"No, Your Majesty. Our sun, it is a pale thing. It hides behind clouds more days than it shines."
"In summer the fields turn green as emeralds, but by the eve of winter the mist rolls in and the world becomes grey and silver."
"Sometimes we do not see the sun for weeks. Men grow pale as milk for want of it."
I laughed softly. "Pale as milk... yes, I see that in you now. Like fresh curd set in moonlight."
I let my gaze travel openly over his throat, the small triangle of chest exposed where his coat had come unbuttoned in the ride. He noticed; the tips of his ears coloured.
"And your women," I continued, stepping over a fallen branch, the silk of my saree brushing his calf as I passed close, "I have seen only British men in my lands--soldiers, traders, messengers. Never a memsahib. Do your women not travel? Or do they fear our heat... or perhaps our men?"
William's laugh was low. "Both, I think. The Company prefers to keep wives and daughters in Calcutta or Madras for now, where there are English gardens and afternoon teas. Out here the jungle and fever frighten them. And," he glanced sideways at me, eyes bright with something daring.
"Perhaps they have heard of the beauty of Tamil jasmine, and believe no English rose could compare."
I arched a brow, pleased in spite of myself.
"Flattery from a British tongue. Dangerous."
"Only truth, Your Majesty.
We walked deeper. Monkeys chattered overhead; somewhere a peacock called.
"Tell me something true of your people, then," I said. "Not the Company's lies. Your true customs."
He thought for a moment.
"We dance in great halls with chandeliers of crystal. Men wear black coats, women gowns that leave their shoulders bare."
"We drink wine and speak politely even when we hate one another."
"On Sundays we sit in cold stone churches and sing hymns to our Lord," He paused.
"And when a man courts a woman, he brings her flowers and asks her father's permission. Nothing is done without permission."
"Here among the common folk the fathers forge an alliance, and courtship if love were to arise is performed in secret." I said with a gleam in my eyes toward him.
"And of you, your majesty?"
"I, along with other women of royal descent, have the privilege to choose my father's choice, I can decline the offer or accept."
"Your late husband must have been ever so fortunate to have found favor in your eyes, your majesty."
I let out a chuckle. "Yes Muthu was of great interest in my eyes, compared to my other suitors when I was young."
"However, I did not let him consummate the marriage until a year after, deciding if he truly was worthy to enter my temple."
He remained silent.
"What of you William, has your hand been taken in marriage?
"No, your highness" He let out a soft chuckle.
Perhaps you are in the process of courtship."
"Neither your highness, I have only felt the touch of a woman's hands when it came from the lady of the night."
"I am sure a man of your figure would have no shortage of women to choose from."
"You are too kind, your majesty, I worked under my father as a carpenter and I did not have time for the matters of the heart."
"Then why are you here in a land far from yours?"
"For adventure...I wanted to see what the world had to offer, from the people, to the structures, to the landscape, and to the beasts."
"Have you found it pleasing?"
"...Very much so...."
We gazed at each other before I shifted my eyes elsewhere."
I notice his cross necklace and decide to take the conversation in a different route.
"Are you a man of faith, William?"
"Yes, I am of the Christian truth."
How could he so arrogantly call his belief the truth? Even I would not be as bold as to claim with complete certainty the gods of my ancestors. This was the arrogance that was seeping into Bharat, something I must safeguard my people from.
"I know of the Christian faith William, many of my people in the coastal west have known about the Jewish savior from long before your people set their foot on this land."
He remains silent.
"Tell me, are you an ardent follower of Christ?
" I am not as passionate as the priests in the cathedrals, your majesty, my discipleship with my savior has not been as faithful since my arrival in this land."
Of course, the British do not follow their book when they are scheming and conspiring against others. All of them whether they be British, French, Dutch or Portuguese are like vultures circling until the moment to gorge themselves arrives. The arrogance of men, always lusting after their brother's possession. I have never looked upon another kingdom with intent, yet their greed grows whether it be the men of my land or these foreigners. My anger was rising, it is best I keep the conversation pleasant.
"What do you know of my belief, William?"
"I have taken great interest in studying this land's culture and various differences in faith, I presume your majesty, you belong to the Shakta sect?"
"Your assumption is correct, what do you know of my sect?"
"In the simplest of terms, the supreme is regarded as she instead of he."
"Your goddesses, even the obscure village goddesses that have only isolated followers, are all manifestations of the supreme Goddess Adi Para Shakti."
"What is your opinion on this, William?"
"It is a welcome change your majesty, all around the world, the ultimate deity is a male, but in some parts of this land it is the one who brings life into creation."
I was flattered, maybe he isn't like the others.
"The magnificence of the sculptures and statues of the goddesses are pleasant to the explorative eyes of the British."
"We indeed have fine architects and sculptures in this land, I assume you appreciate their craftsmanship?"
"Certainly, the work of their hands shows their devotion toward their goddesses."
As we ventured deeper into the forest's embrace, the conversation between William and I flowed like a gentle stream, weaving through topics of faith, culture, and the subtle undercurrents of desire that simmered beneath our words. The dappled light played across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the way his lips curved when he spoke of distant lands. I found myself drawn to him, my thoughts wandering to forbidden territories, even as the guilt of Muthu's memory lingered like a shadow. Yet, in this verdant sanctuary, away from the eyes of my court, I allowed myself to savor the thrill of his presence, the broad span of his shoulders, the confident stride that matched my own.
Suddenly, a rustle in the underbrush ahead caught my ear. I held up a hand, signaling William to halt, my senses sharpening like the edge of my dagger. Through the thicket of teak leaves and vines, at a distance that would daunt even the most seasoned hunter, perhaps two hundred paces or more, I spotted it: a large magnificent stag, its antlers branching like the crown of an ancient king, its coat a rich chestnut that gleamed in a rare shaft of sunlight piercing the canopy, it's white spots decorating it's body for the coming of my arrow. The beast stood proud, unaware of our approach, grazing on tender shoots with an air of regal indifference. It was larger than any I had seen in seasons past, its muscles rippling under its hide, a true prize that would honor Vellacci's request for venison.
"Look there," I whispered, my voice low and steady, pointing with a subtle tilt of my chin. William followed my gaze, his blue eyes narrowing as he took in the sight.
"A fine specimen, Your Majesty," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear as he leaned closer than necessary.
"But the distance... It's formidable. Perhaps we should circle around, draw nearer for a surer shot. The wind is with us; we could approach without alarming it."
I turned to him, a smile playing at the corners of my lips, amused by his caution. His concern was endearing, born perhaps of the chivalrous customs he had described, but it underestimated me--the warrior queen who had felled British officers in the heat of battle, who had led charges with sword in hand and fire in my veins.
"No, William,"
"The forest offers what it wills, as I told my daughter. And I will take what it offers now, from here. Watch, and learn the ways of Sivaganga's huntress."
He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly, but he nodded, stepping back to give me space. I unslung my bow from my shoulder, the familiar weight of the polished yew comforting in my grasp. Nocking an arrow from my quiver, I drew the string taut, feeling the tension build in my arms and shoulders, the same tension that echoed in the air between us. My eyes fixed on the stag, I calculated swiftly in my mind: the arc of the shot, the subtle breeze whispering through the leaves, the rise and fall of the terrain that might bend the arrow's path. Years of training under the sun and stars, of honing my skill in the fields and forests, guided me. My breath steadied, my focus narrowing to a pinpoint, the world fading to nothing but the target and the string humming against my fingers.
With a fluid release, the arrow whistled through the air, a streak of deadly precision slicing the distance. It found its mark true--plunging deep into the stag's chest, straight through to the heart. The beast let out a startled bellow, its massive body rearing in panic, antlers slashing at the air as blood bloomed dark against its hide. It bolted, crashing through the undergrowth in a frenzy of hooves and snapping branches, but I knew its flight would be short-lived.
"Come!" I called William.
He followed without hesitation, his long strides matching mine as we pursued the trail of broken foliage and crimson droplets. The chase was exhilarating, my heart pounding not just from the exertion but from the shared pursuit, the way his body moved beside mine, powerful and graceful, stirring something primal within me. We leaped over roots and ducked under low-hanging vines, the forest alive around us with the echoes of the stag's desperate flight.
It wasn't long before we found it, no more than a hundred paces from where it had been struck. The great beast lay still in a small clearing, its flanks no longer heaving, eyes glassy in eternal repose. The arrow protruded from its heart, a testament to the shot's lethal accuracy. I approached slowly, murmuring a quiet prayer to the goddess of the hunt, thanking her for the gift and honoring the stag's spirit as it returned to the earth.
William stood beside me, his chest rising and falling from the run, his gaze shifting from the fallen animal to me with wide-eyed astonishment.
"By the heavens, Your Majesty," he breathed, his voice husky with awe.
"That shot... at such a range, with such speed."
"I've seen marksmen in the British ranks, veterans of campaigns across the seas, and none could match that precision."
"You calculated the wind, the drop,everything in mere heartbeats. It's... extraordinary. You are extraordinary."
His words sent a warm flush through me, not just pride in my skill, but a deeper heat at the admiration in his eyes. He stepped closer, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of English soap mingled with the sweat of our chase, his blue gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that made my yoni ache anew.
"I've heard tales of your prowess in battle," he continued, his tone dropping lower, more intimate, "but to witness it... it's as if the gods themselves guide your hand."
I met his stare boldly, allowing a slow smile to curve my lips, my body alive with the victory and the unspoken promise hanging between us.
"The gods favor those who act without hesitation, William. And in this forest, away from prying eyes, perhaps there are other pursuits where hesitation has no place."
My words hung in the air, heavy with invitation, as I reached out to trace a finger along the fletching of the arrow, my touch lingering near the stag's wound, a subtle reminder of my power, and the desires it ignited.
William bent again to the stag, this time sliding his broad shoulders fully beneath the carcass. With a low grunt he lifted it clean, settling the heavy weight across his back as though it were no more than a rolled carpet. Blood seeped warm through his white coat, staining it crimson, yet he did not flinch. His boots sank slightly into the soft earth as he straightened, waiting for my nod.
"Follow," I said, and turned toward the hidden path.
He walked behind me in silence, the stag's antlers swaying above his golden head like a macabre crown. The forest closed around us, and soon the circle appeared, the ring of ancient trees, the lotus blooms glowing along the edge, the great banyan rising at the heart.
William stepped into the clearing and lowered the stag with care, laying it upon the grass as gently as a mother lays a sleeping child. Only then did he straighten, breathing hard, sweat glistening at his throat. He looked around him, eyes wide with wonder.
"This place... it is sacred," he said softly. "The flowers, the tree... it feels older than time."
I walked to the banyan and rested my palm against its trunk, feeling the slow heartbeat of memory beneath the bark.
"My husband made this place for me," I said, voice steady. "Muthu Vaduganatha Periyavudaya Thevar."
"It was here that I challenged the former king to a duel, before I decided to consummate the marriage with him, no eyes were upon us on that day."
"It was an arduous struggle but I managed to come out the victor in the end, with my sword gently kissing his throat as he was against this banyan tree."
"His pride was wounded but there was no anger in his eyes that day, and that is when I decided he would be the one to enter my sacred temple."
"We made love, and rutted here in this sacred place like wild beasts."
And here, William Windsor, you will now speak the truth you carried across half of Bharat."
I turned to face him fully, the green silk clinging to my skin, the gold in my navel and nipples catching the dappled light.
"Speak your colonel's message."
William drew a slow breath, then met my gaze without wavering.
"Colonel James Dickinson, commanding the East India Company forces in the Carnatic, sends respectful greetings. He proposes an alliance, Your Majesty. A treaty of friendship and mutual defence. In return for your warriors and your knowledge of the southern passes, he offers arms, gold, and the promise that Sivaganga will remain sovereign and untouched. The purpose is simple: together we crush Tipu Sultan of Mysore before he grows stronger and turns his eyes southward."
The words struck me like a slap. I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, fire coursed through my veins,hot, familiar, murderous. Cunning bastards. I saw it all in an instant, clear as the arrow's flight that had felled the stag: the old British game, played from Bengal to the Cape. They flatter one king, arm him, set him against his neighbour. When both lie bleeding, they descend with fresh treaties and fresh "allies" to swallow the pieces.
They had done it to the Marathas, to the Nizam, to half the princes of Hindustan. And now they thought to use me, Velu Nachiyar, widow of the man they murdered as their blade against Mysore. Tipu and I were not on good terms, because the weaponry I provided to his father was meager. Hyder felt cheated, and it was the truth, I did cheat him on that day, not to spite him, but to defend my kingdom from ever having to fall under my eyes again.
However, Tipu has his kingdom and I have mine. Although the relationship between us is not amicable, I will never attack his kingdom out of greed. I did not share the folly of men. I would much sooner raise my sword against the company than at Tipu.
In two swift strides, I crossed the clearing, my dagger unsheathed in a blur of motion honed from years of battle. Before William could react, I pinned him against the ancient banyan tree, the rough bark pressing into his back as the cold edge of my blade kissed his throat. His blue eyes widened in fear, a flicker of genuine terror flashing through them, though he held himself still, his breath shallow and controlled. The stag's blood still stained his uniform, a macabre reminder of the hunt's violence now mirrored in this intimate confrontation.
"You British may think the men of this land are fools," I hissed, my voice laced with venom, my face inches from his, "but I, a woman, see right through you."
My grip on the dagger tightened, the gold piercings on my body glinting in the dappled light as my chest heaved with restrained fury.
"Your kind comes here to fan the flames of division among the people of this land, and capitalize on the weakening kingdoms."
"You come here to seduce with your wealth and materials, whispering promises while sharpening your knives in the shadows."
William remained quiet throughout my tirade, his fear evident in the subtle tremor of his Adam's apple against the blade, yet he stayed calm, his piercing gaze locked on mine. He let me finish, not interrupting, not pleading, simply enduring, like a man who knew the storm must pass.
"I, Queen Velu Nachiyar, refuse this alliance," I snarled, pressing the dagger just enough to draw a thin line of red on his pale skin, a bead of blood welling up like a ruby.
"Go tell that vile serpent, I would rather raise my sword against him before I draw it against Tipu."
With a deliberate motion, I dropped the dagger to the grass at our feet, the metal thudding softly against the earth. The intensity in my eyes shifted, no longer fueled by anger but by a raw, unbridled lust that had been simmering since the moment he entered my court. His beauty, his composure under threat, it ignited something primal in me, a fire that burned away the remnants of my rage.
"I understand, Your Majesty," William said softly, his voice steady despite the fear that lingered in his eyes.
"I will deliver the message as you command."
I stared at him, my breath coming in heated bursts, my body alive with desire. I opened my mouth to speak, to command or confess, but words failed me. Instead, I surged forward, enveloping my arms around his neck and capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. It was fierce, demanding, my tongue invading his mouth with the same precision I'd used to fell the stag. William was taken aback, his body stiffening for a heartbeat, but then he relented, his strong arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me flush against him. His hands splayed across the silk of my saree, feeling the curve of my hips, the warmth of my skin beneath.
We kissed for what felt like an eternity, the forest around us fading into insignificance. His lips were soft yet insistent, tasting of salt and the faint metallic tang of his own blood from the nick on his throat. My fingers tangled in his golden hair, tugging gently as I pressed my body harder against his, feeling the hard planes of his chest against my breasts, the gold piercings on my nipples hardening under the friction. A low moan escaped me, muffled against his mouth, as his hands roamed lower, gripping my backside with a possessiveness that sent shivers through my yoni.
Finally, I broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to stare into his eyes once more, my lips swollen and tingling. He released me instantly. William opened his mouth, his voice husky.
"Your Majesty, I apologize if..."
I pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him with a firm touch.
"Remain quiet, William. I will ask you three questions, and you will answer them. Nothing more."
He nodded, his blue eyes darkening with a mix of anticipation and submission.
"First, William Windsor, do you harbour animosity toward me from my actions just now, the venom I spewed against your colonel, and your people."