When Alfred left Princess Amisha a few moments after their kiss was over, the Maharaja walked toward her seated figure, looking as her snow white cheeks were a light shade of pink as a result of the man she loved kissing her as skillfully as he had. Princess Amisha looked up at him and began to worry—had he seen she and her lover kissing and embracing each other? The Maharaja looked around at the beautiful flowers and sighed with nostalgia.
"I remember," he began serenely.
"What is it, father?" she asked, looking up at him. He sighed again, remembering the night he confessed his love to his wife.
"I remember first telling your mother how much I loved her in this same garden," he said slowly, savoring every word that rolled off his tongue. She looked up at him, keeping her azure eyes on him with nervousness. "It was the first night we met, and I had asked her to marry me. I was just a young prince, and we were at a party to celebrate the birth of my half-brother. She stood here in the garden, the moon was high and it illuminated her beauty perfectly." The Maharaja looked at his daughter with reverence and pride. "My, Amisha, you look like her—your white skin, your cheekbones, and your beautiful black hair." The young woman sighed, looking at the lotuses growing near the garden's stone fountain. "It is no wonder Mr. Jones loves you."
She gasped. Her mind went as blank as her eyes, staring up at her father with extreme guilt. Oh no, she thought, will he be angry with me for loving a non-royal? Is he going to be concerned about his succession and heir? She just stared at him with worry in her blue eyes as he began talking to her.
"Yes, I can tell you both love each other dearly," the Maharaja said. There was an awkward silence before the princess began speaking again—her father could tell she was anxious.
"You…saw us?" she questioned, looking up at him with trepidation.
"Yes, I did," he told her.
"Are you angry?" she asked. He shook his head.
"No, in fact I am very happy to see you have found someone. He seems like a very worthy man," the Maharaja explained truthfully. Princess Amisha's nerves calmed down, and her eyes lit up subtly.
"You think so, father?' she asked, confirming his feelings about the romance between she and Alfred. He nodded, taking a seat next to her.
"Yes, I know so. I hear he is a bit of a goof, but he has a strong, brave heart. You are both fated for each other. I know it," he told his daughter sincerely.
"I owe him my life for saving me," Princess Amisha said.
"Would you marry Alfred?" the Maharaja asked. "I could reward him with your hand for rescuing you and bringing you back safely." She looked at him with disbelief—was he really saying this? Were these words really coming from the mouth of a king?
"Father, I do not wish to be someone's reward. I wish to be loved by someone. Alfred would probably accept it, but there is also a chance he will not do so because he is a college student," she explained. "It is quite an ordeal."
"True," her father said, rubbing his eyes roughly.
"But father! What about your succession? You need an heir!" the princess exclaimed, the thought having just come to her memory.
"Your cousin, Raja Ugresh Nagendra, is the son of my younger brother. He is only sixteen, but he is the only crown prince by birth who is the heir to the Indian throne. If you wanted to marry Alfred and drop from the line of succession, he would take your place. If you decide not to marry Alfred and marry someone of our status, your husband will become the Maharaja, but if you do marry Alfred, you will need to drop out of the succession so Ugresh Nagendra can rule India," he explained.
The princess looked down at her satin skirt, running her fingers over the silky golden weave as she thought of a possible life with Alfred in America. She loved him dearly and knew she owed him more than her life alone, but was she really willing to give up the lavish life she knew in India just to adapt to a new environment in the West? She had never been there, but she was aware of the unfamiliar mannerisms of Western women; they wore shoes, they wore clothing with no midriff, but what she admired about them was that they were independent and were not treated like objects. Being a princess, she was expected to be married off for a price to someone of the same class. She knew that going to America, she could be free to do what she wished.
"Drop out?" she asked.
"Yes. You cannot rule alone, and if you are a woman who decides to marry a commoner, you and your husband are not eligible to rule. The Maharaja must be Indian, so he is free to marry whomever he chooses," he told her. "It is a big decision, but are you willing to make it?"
"I am unsure. It is so drastic," the princess said. "I have never been to America."
"I am sure it is a nice place, perhaps a lot better than here," the Maharaja told her.
Just moments later, Prime Minister Chowdry approached the Maharaja and Princess Amisha holding a telegram message. It was opened, but Sadar had decided to tell the Maharaja what it said.
"Mr. Chowdry," the king said, standing up. "What is that in your hand?"
"It is a telegram from a Walter Meyer. He is an archaeologist who has been in China, and he telegraphed us to ask where his other group had been," he told him. The Maharaja's eyes widened, but the princess became sad—would this be that last time seeing Alfred?
"Archaeologist? You have told me that the five young men are amateur archaeologists, am I correct?" the Maharaja asked.
"Yes, they are actually the group he has been searching for. It says here that they have delayed the research of artifacts unearthed near the Yangtze, and upon finding out about the group's disappearance in India, Walter Meyer and his associates plan on coming here to retrieve them," Sadar explained.
"I would be glad to have extra guests at my palace," the king said, approving his request. "Please, alert the young men about this. Before they depart for China, their rightful location, we will celebrate their accomplishment of bringing back my daughter."
Sadar nodded and bowed to the royals, promptly walking to find Alfred, Arthur, Francis, Ivan, and Matthew. Luckily, they were all in the great hall, having a conversation. Arthur and Francis were arguing over a petty matter when Sadar finally arrived with the telegram message in his hand.
"Gentlemen!" he called. "I have an announcement from a…Walter Meyer."
Alfred's jaw dropped, growing excited as he heard the name. Walter Meyer, the renowned archaeologist who had been his hero and source of inspiration and admiration, had sent the Maharaja a telegram. How did he know his group was in India, or lost for that matter? Whoa dude, he thought as he smiled brightly, I'm totally excited now! Walter Meyer coming to India for us? Yes!
"Walter Meyer?!" Alfred exclaimed, expressing his excitement boldly.
"The archaeologist we are supposed to be working with?" Francis asked.
"Yes. He is coming to India to get all of you to China so they can begin research. They already have delayed the study of the Yangtze artifacts for one week," Sadar said.
"We must go, then! When is he arriving?" Arthur questioned. Sadar looked down at the message and read what Walter had said about arrival dates.
"It says he is planning to arrive on June 31 or July 2," he told them.
"That's coming up! Tomorrow!" Francis shouted. "July 1is tomorrow!"
Though Alfred was excited about the arrival of his hero in India to get them to China, he didn't want to leave the land where he met his true love. Princess Amisha had been his everything, his one love, and he had saved her from certain death—the last thing he wanted to do was leave her in order to study artifacts in China and go to America to finish up his college education. Don't delay the inevitable, Alfred told himself, you will marry Princess Amisha someday.