Chapter 5: Standoff at Sunrise
Stepping outside, I saw Arjun kneeling shirtless in the verandah, morning light glinting off old scars and sweat. He looked stubborn, eyes fixed on the dusty floor. The verandah buzzed with silent onlookers—soldiers, cadets whispering behind their hands.
Years of battles had left his body a map of scars. Each line told a story of sacrifice, far from capital comfort. My anger wrestled with reluctant admiration—perhaps, in another world, we’d be allies.
Fresh welts crossed his back. I wondered if the punishment was as harsh as it looked, or just for show. The soldiers watched, waiting to see if I’d demand more.
A clever ploy—now, if I wanted further punishment, I’d look cruel. Chivalry, or cunning? My anger softened, but I kept my face still.
Nair barked, “You scoundrel! The Ration Officer is magnanimous and won’t hold this against you. Hurry, apologise!” The words rang out, drawing glances. Arjun didn’t move, silence more eloquent than words. Nair’s tone was that of a father scolding a stubborn son.
Since I arrived, Arjun kept his head bowed, deep in thought. When he finally looked up, I saw surprise in his eyes—as if remorse was unexpected.
I couldn’t help a twitch at the corner of my mouth. I’d seen the Singh family’s striking looks as a child—Arjun had inherited them all. Border sun had burnished his skin to healthy wheat, scars adding a wild edge. But the handsomer he was, the more infuriating his words.
“Next time I’ll use more force, so the Ration Officer can sleep a few more days,” he said, flashing a provocative grin. A soldier watching whispered, “Arre, Major saab, zara dhyaan se! She’s not like us border wallahs.”
“Insolence,” I snapped, hand tightening on my sword. Nair was quicker, lashing Arjun with his stick, cursing him for show. It looked harsh, but I knew the difference—palace punishments had their own rhythm. I shot Nair a half-amused, half-exasperated glance. The soldiers relaxed, sensing the storm had passed—at least for now.