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“I’m sorry. I was out of line. Please accept my condolences for your loss,” I said stiffly.
Was it my imagination or did Isha look a little disappointed as she stepped away from me? Damn the woman! She brought out the snarly, gnarly beast in me, and she didn’t even know that it would follow her around like a puppy at the crook of her sexy little finger.
I needed to get out of here. But there was talk of the old lady getting a formal state funeral, which meant that I couldn’t leave until it was all over.
I wished I didn’t have to be here at all. I mean, I loved meeting my sister, but my relationship with her husband was… complicated, to say the least. Diya might have forgiven him for his betrayal, but I hadn't. Because he had betrayed me as much as he had betrayed her.
I understood why he had to stay away from Diya, but he hadn’t given me the courtesy of a simple explanation. It wasn’t as if I’d have held him to his promise of marrying her once I found out what he was going through. It hurt like hell to know that he hadn't trusted me with the truth. That he hadn’t trusted me to stand by him, no matter what.
We were more than friends. We were brothers, damn it! The Jai and Veeru of the adjoining princely states of Trikhera and Jadhwal. We were at school together, first boarding school in India, and then at Eton. It hurt to know that it meant nothing to him. He had left me out of the most important decision of his life.
But I wasn’t here to bond with Dheer. I was here to meet Kirorimal Talati, the man who had practically become Dheer's fixer since he just started unravelling the mess his father had left behind. From what I’d heard, if there was anyone who could get me what I wanted, it was Kirori Ji. It galled me to be indebted to Dheer for anything, but I had jumped at his offer to speak to his fixer on my behalf because my dreams were bigger than my grudge. I’d make a deal with the devil if it got me what I wanted. And right now, I wanted only one thing.
“This state funeral is turning into a three-ring circus,” grumbled Dheer, walking up to us.
My sister finally stopped glaring at me and turned to comfort her husband. This was a family matter. I wanted to step away and leave them to it, but I suddenly had the uncomfortable realisation that Dheer and his family were now my family by extension. I had to stay and support them as much as I could.
“How can I help?” I asked reluctantly.
Diya beamed at me. Dheer stared at me in surprise because I hadn’t had a kind word for him since he blew back into Diya’s life like an ill wind. Isha, meanwhile, stared at in suspicion.
“Why are you being nice?” she demanded.
I pretended not to notice how my sister nudged her in the ribs immediately.
“I’m always nice,” I pointed out.
“Not to us,” she retorted. “Never to the Trikheras.”
A wave of shame and guilt washed over me for the disgraceful way I had behaved with her. Dheer deserved everything I dished out, but not Isha. She was blameless, and yet, she had borne the brunt of my hatred for her brother.
“Better late than never,” said Dheer diplomatically. “Thanks for the offer, but my team will take care of all the arrangements. Meanwhile, Kirori Ji will be here soon. Trust me, Veer. He will get you what you want, no matter what. That man knows everything that goes on in our state even if he pretends to be a lowly Sarpanch. He’s a kingmaker if ever there was one.”
He was right, I realised a few hours later, as I met Kirori Ji in Dheer’s study. He was a slight, unassuming little man, dressed in a simple white kurta-pyjama and a multi-coloured turban.
“Khamma Ghani, Hukum,” he said bowing his head first to Dheer and then to me.
His sharp eyes raked me up and down, and he must have liked what he saw because he smiled warmly.
“Why is the princeling taking such a sudden interest in politics?” he inquired as he blew on his steaming hot chai.
“Because there’s no other way to get what I want,” I replied.
“And what is it that you want, Hukum? Money? Land?”
“I want power,” I replied, leaning back in my chair.
His eyes cooled a bit and he studied me thoughtfully.
“You’re a rich, educated royal, Hukum. Power, you already have in spades.”
I shook my head.
“Not enough to stop the land mafia, Kirori Ji.”
“And what would a playboy prince even know about the land mafia?” he asked in surprise.
“I know enough to want to stop them,” I replied coldly.
