Agni obediently followed his master through the crowded streets of Bengal. He still tried to maintain his distance of four feet, but he wasn't as keen on keeping it, as he had been just the day before.

The prince had simply wanted to take a stroll through his kingdom, announcing that the seamstress wasn't free until the afternoon, anyways. Of course, Agni had simply agreed to the prince's wish, because why shouldn't he?

Yesterday, it had been late at night, Agni had decided that he'd always fulfill the prince's orders, as long as it didn't put him in immediate danger. Because, so Agni had decided, that was the duty of a servant. Or rather, the duty of a khansama.

A normal servant probably wouldn't give their own life to save their master, and, after reviewing his former life, Agni could understand why they wouldn't. But to him, this was different. To him, Soma wasn't just an ordinary master or a simple prince. To him, Soma was a God. A celestial being, which had freed him from his former, wasted, life.

It was a situation that nobody but him could understand. At least Agni was rather sure, that a scene like this didn't just play out every day.

Soma entered the palace with a lightness to his step.

"The seamstress will be here in a few minutes, go clean yourself up a bit," Soma ordered.

Agni followed him with his gaze, before bowing and retreating to his room.

It was a plain and nearly unfurnished room in the servant quarters of the palace. There was nothing personal about it. Not, that there was anything Agni could have brought.

After Soma had freed him, they'd directly left for the palace, Agni hadn't even gotten the chance to say goodbye to his past life. Not, that he regretted it. His father probably didn't care about his son's whereabouts and Agni didn't care much about his father's either.

Orange curtains hung in front of a window, in front of which stood a simple bed. Agni hadn't even made it this morning, the blanket was still a mess from the sleepless night he'd had last night.

He may have been reborn, but that didn't save him from the nightmares of a past life. Somehow, being a different person, made it worse. Because now, he realized that there was nothing he could do to reverse these happenings.

Sighing, he filled the wash basin on the window sill and soaked a cloth in it. Maybe it was strange that Agni only now came to realize that he'd stopped caring about his appearance a lot of time ago. And even now, upon knowing that the prince had cut away his long, white hair, he only felt a slight interest in his looks.

Too afraid to move the mirror, which stood and faced the wall, he took a glance at his reflection in the wash basin.

Somehow, the man gazing back at him wasn't all that different from the man Agni remembered. He still had those tired, lifeless grey eyes, and when he lifted his hands, he looked at the same hands that had hurt and killed more people than could ever be made up for.

His hands beginning to shake, Agni put away the wet cloth and turned to leave, when his hand slipped and the basin shattered on the floor.

Sighing, Agni bent to pick up the broken pieces. Then, suddenly, he saw a face appear in the door frame. It wasn't his prince's face, as he'd first thought, but rather a female one. The young woman blushed when she noticed Agni was staring back at her.

"I am so sorry!" She seemed as if she wanted to bow, but quickly stopped herself. Instead, she made to enter, but stopped on the threshold. When Agni nodded, she went over to him and helped him pick up the shards.

Agni, finding he couldn't tear his gaze from the brown-haired girl in front of him, blushed, when she handed him the shards.

"I am Nitya," she answered to Agni's unspoken question, a faint smile on her lips.

When Agni made to answer, Nitya interrupted him.

"You're Agni. Yes, I know. In fact, I think the whole court knows by now. I would say you are a bit of a miracle. You see," Nitya pulled Agni to his feet, "I don't think Prince Soma has ever cared for another human being before."

"I don't think him saving me was a way of 'caring'," Agni answered, "I've never encountered the prince before."

He put the shattered pieces onto the window sill, bending to wipe away the spilled water.

"Mhm, yes. I suppose that's true." When the rag was soaked with water, Nitya handed him a new one. "But still, we servants would never have imagined him doing something like that. The only person the prince ever cared about was himself and Meena."

"Meena?" Agni asked, opening the window and laying the rags on the window sill, to let them dry.

"Yes, Meena. I don't really know what she is to the prince. I mean, she's his wet nurse, or was, well, but, looking at him, you could come to think that he's in love with her."

Agni raised an eyebrow. "But…she…She's a Shudra, yes? Why would the prince fall in love with a caste so beneath him?"

Nitya let loose a dreamy sigh. "Do not ask me. I am that kind of girl that still believes love conquers all. Oh, well. You should probably get going now. The prince is already waiting for you, together with the seamstress. Go meet them in the Lover's Parlor."

An hour and a few lost nerves later, the seamstress had tried various colors and several styles on Agni. Halfway through the session, Soma came to understand that he was the only one who cared about his servant's clothing. Therefore, he stopped asking for Agni's opinion and simply gave his own.

After they'd finally decided to settle with plain sherwanis, the only question remaining was the color they should go for. Soma, seemingly for the first time that day, was at a loss for words.

"Red?" he finally suggested and shot Agni a look. The servant, upon realizing that the prince was waiting for a response, gave a slight shake of his head. Soma huffed a breath, his lips turning into a pout. "Now, really, Agni. You're not making this any easier."

"I am sorry, my prince," Agni answered, while bowing deep, just to be scolded by the seamstress.

Said one finally lifted an orange fabric, brushing it against the butler's skin. "If you allow me, Prince Soma, I do think orange fits your khansama's skin quite perfectly."

When Soma leaned in closer, Agni couldn't stop the blush that crept into his cheeks. But, upon hearing his prince's next words, he nearly fainted:

"Yes, indeed," Soma smiled, looking up at his khansama, "It makes you look quite lovely, Agni."

Nightfall came and Soma lay sprawled out on his bed, a layer of sweat covering his naked torso. When Agni entered Soma's bedroom, after having cleaned up a different part of the prince's chambers, he tried hard to fight the approaching blush.

Soma sat up with a sigh, reaching for his vest, which he'd thrown to the floor, but freezing mid-action. Instead, he looked up at his servant, who stood in front of the prince's wardrobe, obviously waiting for an order.

"I don't understand why you chose to wear a pagri."

Unconsciously, Agni reached for the white turban he now wore. He didn't really know himself why he'd chosen to wear it. It had been a suggestion made by the seamstress and Agni had agreed.

"I think I felt a bit uncomfortable with only the short hair, my prince," he answered. Perhaps it was an unconscious reason he'd had.

Soma nodded. He didn't seem too surprised about it. "Yes. Well, to be honest, I do think I preferred the long hair on you. But that's in the past. Actually, I prohibit you from ever growing it out again."

Bouncing a bit on his mattress, Soma folded his arms behind his head, only to sprawl himself out again.

Agni, surprised, and, admittedly a bit shocked, stepped forward. "My prince?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you?" Agni asked, hoping that he didn't sound rude.

But Soma didn't seem to find it rude. He merely lifted a brow, thinking about his response.

"Ah, well. I think it'd let you resemble the man you were before and who you're not anymore. I mean, I don't exactly prohibit you from doing it – that would just be cruel. I think you should merely take it as a suggestion."

"Then I will not."

Abruptly, Soma set up. "Excuse me?!"

Agni had already turned to leave, but upon hearing his prince's astonished and somewhat upset voice, he turned back around.

"Excuse me, but what did you just say?" Soma inquired, his voice still sounding upset.

"That, in fact, I will not do it then," Agni answered, "Growing my hair out, I mean."

The prince visibly slumped, his gaze fixing on the patterns of his blanket.

"Oh."

Agni, not quite understanding that the prince's reaction was caused by his answer, bowed, before stepping over the threshold.

"I will bring you a glass of water and help you retire, yes?"

Soma didn't look up. He barely forced himself to nod.

"Yes. Please do."