#bhanumati

A slightly alarmed, but mostly amused guard directed them towards the stables, mumbling, “His Highness, the Crown Prince is there with his friends.” He opened his mouth to add something else, but neither of the girls were listening. For the umpteenth time, Bhanu wondered why, of all Princesses of Aryavarta, it was her Suyo had to kidnap.

2.

Karna was sitting on the ground, giggling. He brightened up when he noticed Vrishali, brushed his fringe away with muddy fingers and tried to stand up. Vrishali heaved a theatrical sigh. Bhanu stared as Karna meticulously lifted himself up, brought a foot underneath himself, stood up and immediately tripped. She could not not wince as he face-planted, but Karna sat up with a dopey grin, hilariously unfazed, and made wiggly fingers in the air.

“Ugh,” Vrishali grumbled, but went to him anyway. Karna gave her a blinding smile and slurred, “Vaish ish preg-eeee.”

“Huh?” Vrishali tried to grab the parchment he was waving around. Karna whined, “Letaah to meee.”

Ignoring him, Vrishali unfolded the letter, raised an eyebrow and turned to Bhanu will a joyous smile, “My sister is pregnant.”

“That is so wonderful!”

Bhanu rubbed her forehead. Vrishali merely rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, and it would have been better if this fool did not try to celebrate it by drinking this early in the morning,” Vrishali groused. Karna rested his head on his wife’s shoulder and snuggled close. She shook him, “Radheya, no don’t sleep, where are Suyo and Ashu?”

Poor Karna, probably the world’s happiest drunk, mumbled, “I dunno.”

3.

He did not need to tell them. A loud whinny came from somewhere east. Moments later, Duryodhan, half hanging from a furious horse, rode in, cursing like Kalki come to earth. Ashwatthama followed, zigzagging across at a more sedate pace.

“Su-yooooooo,” Karna giggled. The angry stallion jerked, threw Duryodhan off and snorting majestically, trotted off. Duryodhan sat there, looking dazed. Ashwatthama plodded right up to him, then tripped on him, and they fell together in a tangle of limbs. “Oof,” Duryodhan said.

“Oof,” Karna echoed. Then he stood up, trotted up to the heap of drunken morons, and dropped himself on them. “Oof,” Karna said again.

Vrishali groaned. Bhanu sighed.

+1.

“I did not,” Duryodhan shrieked in his totally masculine way.

“You did, Suyo,” Vrishali told him levelly, but with a smile. Bhanu wished she had her superpower of dealing patiently with idiots.

“I can hold my liquor, Bhabhi, I’m a man and the Crown Prince of Aryavart!”

“No you can’t,” Ashwatthama snorted, “none of us can.”

“Besides, your post has no relation to liquor consumption,” Bhanu added unhelpfully.

“No I can! Karna, tell them!”

Poor Karna blushed redder (his complexion wasn’t helping) and mumbled, “I think we did all that.”

Duryodhan gave him and look of utter betrayal and jumped on him yelling, “Traitor! Traitor!”

Ashwatthama looked on for a moment, then shrugged and leapt in.

“Whose side are you on?” Karna demanded, while simultaneously fending off two very capable hands hell-bent on tickling him. Ashwatthama didn’t even bother to answer. Bhanu was pretty sure he had no idea himself.

Vrishali leant over and fetched their nail paints. “Mine got smudged, and I’ve got to look good at my sister’s baby-shower,” she said simply, noticing Bhanu’s raised eyebrow.

“That’s ages away.”

Vrishali shrugged and frowned, inspecting her nails.

“Mine got smudged too,” she told her.