Colorful lanterns were lit on the city square, colored dye was painted on the faces of little children, and cheerful music played—all to celebrate Rajkumari Amisha Mani's safe return. People from all over India came to celebrate her return and to socialize with her. Temples were crowded with distraught people who prayed for her safe return after the Maharaja declared her missing, and without a doubt, they were answered.
Meanwhile, Walter Meyer and his two Chinese associates had arranged to bring Alfred, Arthur, Francis, Matthew and Ivan to China the day after the night of festivities, but for the time being, they stayed and enjoyed themselves. Meyer, curious about the situation regarding the princess, approached Alfred and Matthew during all the merriment to find out more.
"Mr. Jones, Mr. Williams," he said, addressing them primly. "Did the princess go missing? How was she returned?" The two young men looked at each other conspiratorially, trying to find an answer.
"Well…long story short, the group and I brought her back," Alfred told him.
"Really?" Meyer asked in shock of his accomplishment. "Where was she taken?"
"I don't know if we are allowed to tell you, Mr. Meyer, with all due respect," Matthew said, waving his hand slightly as he cut into their dialogue.
"It's all good," Meyer told him. "I was just curious, that's all."
"Yeah, don't mention the kidnapping in front of the princess. She gets…uh, very…well, she's traumatized from the experience," Alfred told him discreetly.
"I promise," the famed archaeologist said. "You can trust me."
"Great!" Alfred said.
"Also, I have another question. I hope it isn't too personal," Meyer said. Matthew looked at the two make subtle eye contact, but Alfred decided to answer him anyways.
"Yeah, Mr. Meyer?" the American wondered. The archaeologist smiled and laughed at what was on his mind.
"About the princess…do you like her?" he questioned. Alfred began giggling, his cheeks turning a bright shade of red.
"Mr. Meyer," he said, still chuckling from his question.
"I saw that you and her were the last two coming out the garden yesterday. The other men and I had already made it out there," the archaeologist added. "Are you sure you weren't just talking to her?" Alfred shook his head, still laughing hysterically with a slight bit of embarrassment.
"Mr. Meyer, of course I do. I love her with all my heart," he said, answering his question as his laughing faded away.
"Won't His Majesty be mad?" Meyer asked.
"Ah, beats me. I think he talked to the princess about marrying a commoner. She would have to drop out of the line of succession," Alfred explained in brief. Walter Meyer's eyebrows rose in a shocked expression.
"Mr. Jones, you're nineteen. You're too young to get married! What about your college education?" the archaeologist asked as several happy children ran by with lit sticks that gave off sparks.
"Silly, of course I'm finishing college!" Alfred said sarcastically with a smile. "I need my degree first. Then…I'm coming back here and I'm marrying that princess. Life with her will be perfect—a couple little ones running in a big backyard, we'll have a nice house, I'll have a good salary, we'll have a dog, we'll watch our kids grow, and we'll grow old together. Everything will be the way I want it to be!"
"I'm happy to see you're setting goals for yourself, but from one man to another," Meyer said, tapping his shoulder gently with the drink in his hand. "Do not rush through life. Take things slow and appreciate everything you have. Think things through, because you may regret any hasty decisions."
"Thanks, Mr. Meyer!" Alfred said with excitement as he went of to find Princess Amisha.
His eyes wandered the vicinity, seeing Arthur socializing with Mr. Winston and Mr. Smith, while Francis was speaking sweet nothings in French to a few attractive young women. Matthew was just standing alone in deep thought with Mr. Meyer, and Ivan was drinking vodka-spiked lassie. However, Princess Amisha was talking with a few poor folk near a flower bed in the middle of the city square. They were dark and elderly with grey hair, but there was a young woman and two children surrounding her as well to converse with the coveted royal.
Alfred stopped and admired how beautiful Princess Amisha looked. Of course, she was always perceived as beautiful to the ones who had laid eyes on her throughout the day, but tonight, she was wearing different colors and she had her piercing in her right nostril. She wore an extravagant outfit composed of a bright pink midriff-bearing top and a green, gold-accented skirt made of fine silk. Her sari seemed fastened to the crown of her head, and it was the same emerald green color as her skirt, accentuating her long, loose curling black hair as it hung down her back gracefully. Just when he approached her, the people walked away, but it was only because they had finished their conversation with the royal.
"Hey, princess," Alfred greeted with a smile. "Some party, huh?"
"Yes," Princess Amisha said, looking up into his eyes.
"Even better, it's all for you," he indicated calmly, his palm grazing her cheek in a simple caress. "You look lovely, by the way." She smiled a closed grin at the man she loved.
"Thank you," she told him. Suddenly, Sadar approached the couple and gently took the princess' hand, causing their confusion.
"Your presence is needed, Your Highness. Your father is about to make an announcement!" he ordered, taking her with him. She looked back at Alfred and waved as she walked away.
"We will talk later, Alfred!" she told him.
Within a matter of minutes, the stage area set up near the city square had the prime minister standing before a large, gradually growing crowd of people behind a podium and microphone. Men, women and children of all ages gathered about, some with praying hands of gratitude, to listen to what Prime Minister Chowdry had to say.
"Presenting His Supreme Majesty, Ruler of all India, the Maharaja Ravi Adhiraj and his daughter, Her Royal Highness Rajkumari Amisha Mani," he said as the two royal walked onto the stage from their positions. Everybody cheered for his presence as the princess thanked them with a spiritual gesture consisting of a bow and praying hands. Alfred and the rest of the men watched her, looking up at her place on the stage respectfully as the Maharaja began speaking Hindi into the microphone.
"My beloved people, it is with great pleasure that I lead you in the welcoming back of my daughter, Rajkumari Amisha Mani, after her disappearance just recently. Thank the gods above for her safe arrival and those who saved her!"
The painful thoughts of being badly and irrationally mistreated by Raja Kumar Chatur reentered the princess' mind as she looked down sadly, but in order to please her people, she stood up and did the spiritual gesture again. The Maharaja was handed a pillow from a servant boy, on it being seven medals. Alfred couldn't quite see what exactly was on the red satin pillow, but he held one up and recited names one by one, handing each medal to the princess so she could place them around each man's neck.
"Roger Smith." That was the first name, and the brown-eyed Englishman approached the princess, who smiled as she placed the medal over his head and on his neck. He smiled a cheeky grin at the princess, who thanked him as the crowd cheered.
"Lewbert Winston." Next came the other Englishman, who was particularly excited as he waved enthusiastically to the foreign crowd. The medal was placed on his neck, following another statement of gratitude from Princess Amisha. The crowd cheered again.
"Matthew Williams." The shy, blond young man stood up and blushed as the princess thanked him for saving her as she placed the medal around his neck.
"Arthur Kirkland." The young Englishman smiled at the crowd as they cheered for him, with Princess Amisha placing the medal around his neck as she thanked him.
"Francis Bonnefoy." Though the Maharaja had a bit of default pronouncing his French moniker, Francis still got up and blew kisses to the crowd. When he got to the princess, he began speaking his native language.
"Puis-je obtenir un baiser avec ça?" he said flirtatiously. The princess, who was confused, looked at him strangely.
"What did you say?" she asked, wanting him to repeat himself.
"A kiss?" Francis asked, puckering his lips slightly—luckily Alfred didn't notice his seductive gesture.
"No," she said. "Please go line up with the other men." He frowned joining them reluctantly as the next name was called.
"Ivan Braginsky." The tall Russian walked over, waving to the people with a smile as he bent down to receive the medal around his neck. He smiled down at the princess, and the last name was finally addressed.
"Alfred Jones."
At an instant, Alfred walked up to Princess Amisha, who placed the medal around his neck. They shared an embrace that everyone said "aww" at, and he looked down into her eyes.
"Thank you for saving me," she told him, letting him go.
"Thank you for being my one love," he said to her. He was tempted to kiss her, but because there were people around, he didn't want to ruin her reputation.
Later that night when the festivities were over, Alfred was sitting on the bed in his guest bedroom, facing the open window and balcony as the cool, summer breeze blew into the room. The sun had set hours before, and there were still festivities and lanterns being lit in the city. He could see the celebrations still going on from a mile away through the open window, and before long, he heard a door open. Turning around, he saw Princess Amisha stand there in her finery, but she didn't have a sari covering her graceful black hair. Smiling, he waved at her slowly as the sight of her blue eyes and pale white skin got his attention.
"Hello, Alfred," she said, coming closer to him and taking a seat next to him on the bed. He looked at her, gazing deeply into her eyes.
"My princess, you are so beautiful tonight," he said. "You always are."
"I wish you were not obliged to leave," she said sadly.
"My birthday is coming up. It's on the fourth," Alfred told her, trying to get her mind off circumstances. "When is yours?"
"September 21," she told him, admiring his handsome features.
"I'll send you a gift I know you will like on your birthday," he told her, finding his arms locking her in an emotional embrace.
"That sounds nice," she said with a sigh. "Well, Alfred, it is our last night together." Getting certain, more sensual connotations in his head, he looked down at her, gazing into her vivid blue eyes lustfully.
"Yes?" he wondered in a whisper. "Do you want to make love?" She nodded, and their final together began. Moans and gentle caresses filled their nighttime hours, and every kiss, every embrace, drew them closer together. Neither time nor distance would break them apart—Alfred and his princess were inseparable.