The following morning, Alfred got up from his bed and washed himself up, getting dressed in a white shirt, red tie, and black slacks once he was all dry. He looked over at the silk-covered bed, remembering his intimate night making love to the princess. During the wee hours of morning, Princess Amisha got out from his protective embrace as they slept and got dressed back in her sheer nightgown, sneaking back into her bedroom to make it look as though nothing had happened. Alfred was aware of this, and he distinctly remembered her bending down to kiss him once more before she left. He didn't want her to leave, but he knew it inevitable had to happen.
After breakfast that morning, the four other group members approached Alfred to discuss the festival in Delhi to celebrate the betrothal of Rajkumari Amisha Mani and Raja Kumar Chatur. Like any royal wedding, this festival would be quite extravagant, where the future Maharaja and Maharani would interact with their people together and celebrate with them. Francis, in particular, was very excited.
"Oui! A party! I'm so glad we are staying long enough to see the princess get married!" the Frenchman said happily.
"No, Francis," Arthur argued. "The only reason we are staying is to help Mr. Smith and Mr. Winston find where the jewel of Delhi is hiding."
"Aw, quiet you!" Francis said.
"No, you be quiet, wanker!" Arthur said, raising his fist as he grabbed the front of the Frenchman's shirt.
"Stop it, you two!" Matthew ordered. "We'll be thrown out of here!" Suddenly, he noticed the sad expression on Alfred's face, and in his vivid, sky blue eyes were hints of sadness.
"Are you alright, Alfred? You look upset about something," he asked.
"I'm fine," his friend answered. The truth was he was far from fine—the love of his life was being married off against her will, and the bad part was that neither of them could do anything about it.
"You don't sound fine, Alfred. I know when you are upset, and right now…you look upset," Matthew said. His friend sighed wearily, rubbing his forehead gently as he closed his eyes.
"Fine," he told him expressionlessly. "I'm not alright. You're right."
"What's the matter?" he asked. Alfred sighed and looked at him, moving closer to him to whisper to him.
"I am in love with the princess, Matthew," he said quietly so no one could hear him.
Matthew looked at his friend in shock—it wasn't really a surprise that Alfred loved Princess Amisha. Everything about her, from her divine beauty to her compassionate side, her assertiveness toward others to her regal, graceful bearing and the love she had for children, made every one of her people adore her and look up to her with reverence and dignity. To Alfred, she was ideal—he knew that the night he spent with her would most likely never happen again in his lifetime. The emotions felt between the two as they released their tensions to help each other relieve them in a way that no one else could do effectively.
"You are? Isn't everyone?" his friend asked.
"Not like I am, and I'll be damned if she is married off against her will," Alfred told him in the same quiet whisper. "If only there was some way to change the Maharaja's mind."
"No, that will not work, Alfred," Matthew said with reason in his calm voice. "He probably just views you as some commoner who is unfit for his daughter."
"I am not ready for marriage yet," Alfred said, looking him in the eyes. "Even if I were ready, I would still fight for her hand as hard as I humanly could."
"I'd be willing to bet you would need tons of luck to achieve that," Matthew said.
At noon, the procession began in the streets of Delhi. Almost everyone had come from near and far to see and celebrate the long-awaited betrothal of the princess to the wealthy, mysterious Raja Kumar Chatur. Female dancers dressed in colorful clothing made of fine fabrics twirled around, tossing pink rose petals around as a large elephant sludged through the streets with the Maharaja, who waved enthusiastically at his people wearing a big grin on his face as he sat in a chair strapped onto the elephant. The next elephant got the most attention, however, for it carried Princess Amisha with the raja next to her. In her intense blue eyes, there was a kind of hidden sadness, but to please her people, she put a smile on her face and waved. Inside, she hated being betrothed, let alone in the presence of the Raja of Calcutta, but still, she kept a pleasant appearance—no person in a country ruled by an emperor or king would want to see an unhappy royal.
In the crowd, Alfred, Arthur, Francis, Matthew, and Ivan stood in the front, watching elephants and small floats as they went by. Quite a few small children had strange paint colored on their upper bodies, arms, and bare feet, running around in search of treats or their parents to hold their hands. Once the five men caught sight of the princess and the raja in the chair strapped to their elephant, Alfred gasped in awe of the sight of her clothing—it was so extravagant, but more so than what she usually wore.
"Ah, she is trés belle!" Francis said, blowing a kiss at the princess up on the elephant.
Rajkumari Amisha Mani seemed to be dripping in diamonds, at least that's what it looked like from Alfred's perspective. Her peachy-pink dress had many small diamonds and rhinestones sewn into the fabric to make a luxurious design. She wore her sari on her head, and her jeweled bindi had small Swarovski crystals in light pink dropping from the gold part of the jewel. However, he became suspicious of her smile. Oh no, he thought sadly, has she finally fallen in love with the raja? Wait, no! She hates him. He squinted for a better look in her eyes from the yards-long distance. Her eyes look so sad, and she looked a bit uncomfortable. Hmm. Oh! She's trying to please her people by looking happy! Yeah, that's definitely it!
Up in the double chair, Princess Amisha smiled and waved at her people, and the raja was glad to finally see his bride smiling. He snickered and moved closer to her, and once she felt his breath on her neck, she jerked up and looked at him strangely.
"It's good to see you are finally happy with me, Your Highness," Raja Kuamr Chatur said slyly. She ignored him and rolled her eyes, putting the smile back on her face as she continued waving to her people. The raja got frustrated with her disobedience and continued to creep on her.
"Keep showing your people that you are happy," he whispered, making her turn her head around to look at him. "You may never see them again one day."
"What makes you say such things?" she questioned.
"Time is with you or against you," he said. "It will always pass."
His strange words and riddle speak stuck with her for the rest of the festival. At about six o'clock that evening, the princess tried to get her mind off the raja's scary poetic depth to dance with a few children in the city square. As the children giggled and were happy about being with the Rajkumari Amisha Mani, the five amateur archaeologists stood watching her socialize light-heartedly with the young ones.
"Ah," Alfred sighed, refusing to keep his eyes off her.
"She seems to have a way with little children," Ivan said with a warm smile.
"She does," Arthur agreed. Matthew looked at them, and then at Alfred, who looked lovestruck as he kept his eyes on her. It's no wonder he loves her, he thought, I can definitely see why.
While dancing in a circle with five boys and four girls, a strange man she had never seen before tapped her on the shoulder, and when she turned around, she gasped at the pleasant sight of a seemingly lusty young man no older than seventeen with great, almond-shaped black eyes, dark hair, and russet skin, looking at her with a jovial smile on his face.
"It is wonderful to meet you, Your Highness," he said in Hindi, getting on his knees and bowing so low that his forehead touched the ground. Princess Amisha was particularly flattered—though she was not a Muslim, she was familiar with how they bowed reverently in prayer when facing the city of Mecca. In a way, it made her feel like one of the unearthly goddesses she worshipped in her Hindu faith.
"What is your name?" she asked, charmed by the young man. Where is Alfred, she thought in her head as she glanced around for him.
"Just call me Ravi, Your Highness," the young man said, staring into her eyes.
"That is the name of my father," Princess Amisha said.
"I am named for him. He is a great man," Ravi told her, encircling her slowly to admire her extravagant form of dress. The princess felt somewhat uncomfortable with him, but listened to what he needed to say anyway. "I congratulate you for your upcoming marriage to the Raja of Calcutta."
"Oh," she said, sounding sad. "Thank you."
"You do not seem satisfied," Ravi said, moving closer to her as he stared into her intense blue eyes. She sighed and waited for him to speak as her discomfort grew worse.
"In fact, I have a wedding gift for you both. Will you be willing to accept it?" he asked.
Princess Amisha looked at him long and hard before giving an answer. She had never met this person, and that fact alone gave her fleeting suspicions about him. However, he looked so innocent and handsome, which at the same time made the princess' suspicions go away. Ravi held her hand gently and led her away from the city square to a seemingly dark alley way. The princess wasn't scared, but she regretted going with him even though she had no answer for him.
"Well?" the princess asked. "Ravi?" She noticed her disappeared from sight, and as she looked around, a she felt a hard blow to her head.
BAM!
With that, she fell to the ground, her jewels making a noise so loud that Mr. Winston and Mr. Smith, who were walking by with refreshments, heard the sound and rushed to see where and what the source was. Before they could identify it at the exact spot Princess Amisha fell unconscious, they saw Ravi carrying a long, heavy bag made of woven twine with two strong men, and they immediately grew suspicious.
"What do you have there?" Mr. Winston questioned, looking at him with trepidation. Ravi, immediately growing nervous, let a free hand go to point at the mule-drawn, wooden-framed wagon on which they threw the unconscious, shrouded princess.
"Take her to the temple! NOW!" Ravi shouted frantically in Hindi, running to catch up to the rapidly-moving wagon as he jumped onto it, sitting next to Princess Amisha's lifeless body.
Mr. Smith and Mr. Winston looked down at the ground, seeing a bunch of sparkling objects in the darkness. Mr. Winston picked a few of the objects up and took them closer to him, adjusting his glasses only to realize that they were diamonds that fell off the princess' clothing.
"Oh my Lord!" he shouted frantically.
"What are those?" Mr. Smith questioned, looking at his partner with dangerous curiosity.
Running back to the city square, he held the jewel specimens in his hands as he looked around for the five young men who were supposed to be in China to study artifacts from the Yangtze River.
"Mr. Jones! Mr. Bonnefoy!" Mr. Winston shouted.
"Mr. Braginsky! Mr. Kirkland?!" Mr. Smith called out. The young men sprinted upon hearing their names called, and looked around until they saw the two older gentleman holding the sparkling pieces of evidence.
"What's the matter, gentlemen?" Arthur questioned. Mr. Winston, still holding the jewels, held them up in his palm for him to see.
"The princess," he began with a huge amount of worry as the diamonds glistened in the dark. "She's been taken!"