Veerata arrived a few minutes after Uncle Madhava left. 

Joining her palms, Satya bowed low and welcomed him to the store. Aunt Sulochana greeted him in her usual offhand manner with a quick bow and curt words. 

His return greeting sounded friendlier than she'd expected. Curious, she watched him. As usual, he wore the finest silk garments and gold ornaments. Catching her eye, he smiled back. 

Did he not mind her aunt’s rudeness? Or did he prefer to overlook it?

They waited as he inspected the ground floor consulting room. Except for the floor mats, oil lamps, writing desk and medicine shelves, there was nothing else in the room. Veerata flipped through the ledger and complimented her precise book-keeping skills. Thanking him, she bit down a contented grin.

“What about the room upstairs?” he asked, eyeing the staircase.

“It’s the storage,” Satya replied. “I keep all my supplies there. Shall I show you?”

At that moment, Satya’s neighbour, the florist, popped her head through the open front door. “Satya, are you there? Is the store closed today? Where are the patients—”

The old woman stopped at the threshold, gaping. Convinced she'd been disrespectful, she fumbled through her greetings to the young general. In vain, Veerata tried to reassure her against the erroneous notion. Aunt Sulochana took charge of the situation and accompanied the florist back to her own shop while Satya led Veerata up the stairs. 

She waited at the centre of the room as he walked a full circle, inspecting the items resting on the tall wooden shelves along the walls.

“Quite a few poisons here, I see,” he observed, peering into an earthen pot on one shelf. “I hope you’ve taken proper precautions while storing all these items.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Poison is a key ingredient in most medicines,” she explained. “Acharya comes here once a week to check on everything. I store all the items here as per his instructions. The seeds in that pot are from Kupilu. Its extract can be lethal in high doses. Some hunters also use it to make poison arrows. I’m impressed you recognised it.” She grinned.

His burning amber-coloured eyes flashed with ardour. “I haven’t seen you smile like that since the first time we met.”

All of a sudden, she felt conscious of his intense gaze, wishing Aunt Sulochana would be back soon. As he took a step towards her, her eyes dropped to the floor in confusion.

“Acharya hasn’t allowed me to use Kupilu in draughts,” she babbled on, turning to the closed door, ten steps to her right. “I distil it in cow milk and clarified butter to make a topical cream. Perfect for skin rashes and mild abrasions. I’ve got some samples downstairs. Let me show you. You can take some with you, if you like.”

On impulse, she hurried towards the door. Veerata was quicker. Before she could open it, his left arm appeared over her shoulder. Pressing the wooden door, he blocked her exit. Satya turned to face him, backing into the panel behind her in alarm. 

He was standing so close, his eyes still fixed on her. A strange sensation rose from the pit of her stomach to her chest. Once again, his height amazed and intimidated her. Her head stopped short of his collarbone, where she spotted a pearl necklace adorning his robust chest. His extravagant attire fascinated her for the very first time since he entered the store.

A golden circlet sat on his head, a matching pair on his sinewy upper arms, and pearl danglers hung from his ears. His curly black hair, oiled and tamed into a stiff top-knot on his head, cascaded down his neck to his broad shoulders. A rich blue silk upper garment and a bright red cummerbund covered his muscular torso. The lower garment, made of white silk, defined the subtle contours of his powerful thighs and legs.

As he arched his head towards her, the aroma of jasmine and sandalwood filled her senses. 

“Do you dislike me?” he asked.

Satya blinked. “Pardon?”

“Do I frighten you?”

She shook her head. “N-No!”

“Then why are you trying to run away?” His voice was a mixture of reproach and affection. 

Speechless, her eyes darted about the room behind him. His right hand rose and tucked a loose strand behind her left ear. As his fingers brushed against her cheek, a singular thrill crawled over her skin.

“You’ve been so distant from me since yesterday,” he whispered. “I thought I did something wrong.”

“You’re mistaken.” Taking a deep breath, she looked back at him. “I have no reason to run away from you.”

A delighted smile lit up his handsome face, overpowering her restraint. Her heart raced faster than ever, acutely aware of his chest rising and falling in relief. She could no longer feign ignorance at his obvious ardour.

“May I see you again tomorrow?” he asked.

“Tomorrow? For what?”

“Do you want to go for a ride with me on my horse?”

“Where?”

His eyes rested on the top of her head. “Through the forest... to the lake... or perhaps to the next town?”

What is he talking about?

“I have classes all day," she replied.

“That’s true.” He clicked his tongue, disheartened. “I probably have meetings all day and more parchments to sign. What about tomorrow evening?”

“I can’t leave the store.”

“Perhaps the day after?”

“I’ll think about it.”

As she spoke, his eyes wandered down her forehead to the tip of her nose and rested on her lips. Her heart pounded louder, unable to understand his scrutiny. The next instant, his right hand cupped her left cheek. He leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers.

Her eyes widened in disbelief. A kiss? No!

Slamming both her palms into his chest, she pushed him away. “Stop it,” she cried.

He drew back a few steps, astonished.

Glaring at him, fists clenched at her sides, she yelled, “Senapati, I’m grateful to you for many things. I respect you a lot. But you’re taking this too far. Please don’t touch me like that again.”

Panting hard, she averted her eyes.