Page 102 of The Encore’s Crown

“Arre, Radhika,” she said, loud enough for me to hear in English. “For him only, hmm?”

The courtyard laughed. Radhika said something quick in Hindi, scandalized. The aunty waved her off and looked directly at me.

“You,” she said.

I straightened like I’d been called before a firing squad.

“Yes, ma’am.”

A few cousins laughed. The aunty pointed at Radhika. “You see? This girl sings like this, men become stupid.”

“I've always been stupid, I can't blame the song,” I said.

The aunty’s face split into a grin.

“Oh. Charming one.”

Another aunty leaned forward. “You must not make her cry.”

Radhika looked mortified. “Masi.”

“No,” the aunty said, still looking at me. “I am old. I can say.”

They all waited. I looked at Radhika. She was watching me carefully. I could feel the edge of something important and had no idea how close I was to it. So I did what I always did when I was outmatched. I told the truth sideways.

“I don’t want to make her cry,” I said.

Radhika’s face changed. I should've lied. I should've made it easy.

So I added, “If I did, I'd be dead before I got near the gate.”

Then the aunty threw her head back and laughed. The courtyard released and Radhika exhaled. The aunty patted my cheek with a hand still dusted pink.

“Funny boy.”

Everyone laughed again, and the pressure broke into warmth. Radhika dropped onto the cushion beside me, face still flushed. She reached for a sweet from the tray between us and broke it in half. She gave me the larger piece. It was such a small thing but it filled me with a feeling I couldn't describe. Radhika took a bite of her half and looked at me from beneath her lashes. I took mine. It tasted like sugar, cardamom, and trouble. I should have been afraid then. Maybe I was. But she was smiling at me, still bright from the song, still brave enough to be shy after singing for millions.

So for a little while longer, I pretended being chosen by her didn't require becoming worthy of it.

Chapter 39

A Man Who Stayed

Kiri

That night, we laid in a bed that felt bigger than mine and Rithy's first apartment, in a guest room the size of a small country, with bursts of color still clinging to our hair no matter how much we washed. Outside, the house had finally gone quiet. Inside, I was trying not to think about the fact that I told her I loved her and the world hadn’t ended.

Radhika had other plans. She climbed over me without warning and pushed at my shoulder. Her skin carried jasmine and heat and all I wanted to do was pull her close and breathe her in for the rest of the night.

“On your stomach,” she said.

I opened one eye. “What if I’m tired?”

“You survived Holi, you'll survive me.”

“You're way more exhausting. Besides, I'll be dead by morning if your dad realizes you've snuck in here.”

She shoved me again, laughing, and I rolled onto my stomach because I was weak for her and she knew it. The sheet slipped down my hips as the cool air touched my back. Then her fingers touched the tattoo curling over my shoulder. I went quiet. She traced the dark line of the naga slowly, from the curve near my shoulder blade down along my arm, following the coils like she was reading something written under my skin.