Chapter 22: The Music Lesson

POV: Prince Karna

The warm golden light of the late afternoon slowly softened into a gentle twilight by the time we finally left the stable yards. The crisp smells of dry hay and arena dust gave way to the fragrant aromas of crushed jasmine, night-blooming lotus, and burning sandalwood incense as we walked back up along the elevated stone passages of the upper gardens.

After washing the red dirt from our hands and changing out of our soiled tunics, Shivsundari and I walked side by side through the arched courtyard toward the eastern rooms. Meena followed three paces behind us, having replaced the water jar with a freshly folded wool shawl and a small flask of warm herbal tea. She stepped up quickly to wrap the thick shawl around Shivsundari's small shoulders as a cold night draft began to whistle through the high stone windows.

As we neared the corner, the soft, beautiful melody of a stringed instrument came drifting through the carved wooden wall screens.

"Vasundhara Di must be finishing her evening music practice," I said, adjusting the clean cloth belt around my waist. "She plays for two hours every single evening before the dinner pots are brought up. Father says her rhythm is the most precise in the entire palace."

Shivsundari slowed her steps near the archway, her quiet green eyes drawn toward the open pavilion.

Under a silk canopy lit by silver oil lamps, our eldest sister sat cross-legged on a plush velvet carpet. Her long fingers moved across the strings of a beautifully carved wooden lute with effortless, practiced grace. Each note rang out crystal-clear in the cool night air—rich, deep, and incredibly soothing. Master Kalyan sat on a small stool nearby, holding a small charcoal brazier to keep his hands warm while he listened to the complex, slow rhythm of the evening scales.

In her past life, long before the fire and before she had ever turned eighteen, music had been a rare, distant luxury—something heard faintly from passing vehicles or cheap boxes on the streets. The luxury of sitting in a warm, peaceful room to study an art form was something she had never known during those lonely years. But here, inside these walls, it was simply a natural part of growing up as a child of the royal house.

Vasundhara Di completed a long, slow melody and let the final string vibrate into silence. She looked up, catching sight of us standing in the archway, and a warm, sisterly smile softened her face.

"You two finally smell like fresh water instead of mountain hay and horses," Vasundhara Di teased gently, setting her instrument down on its carved wooden stand. "Did Master Rudra let you run wild through the lower stalls until the gates closed?"

"We were inspecting the new white colts!" I defended proudly, stepping onto the carpet and looking longingly at the hot tea Meena was pouring into small silver cups. "Sundari met the silver-flecked one, and Master Rudra said Mother is already picking out a safe bay horse for her own riding lessons when the spring melt comes!"

"A pony for Shivsundari and more scraped knees for you, no doubt," Vasundhara Di chuckled, shaking her head. She looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "And I happen to know that your writing slates are still half-empty down in the schoolroom, Karna. Master Varun looked thoroughly exhausted when I passed him earlier."

"I promised him I would practice extra hard tomorrow!" I muttered, quickly taking a seat on the very edge of the carpet to change the subject.

Vasundhara Di turned her soft gaze to my little sister, who sat down gracefully on a woven wool cushion, accepting the warm cup of herbal tea from Meena. "Did you enjoy watching the archers and the horses, Sundari?"

"The colt has a calm heart," Shivsundari answered softly, her voice small but clear. Then her eyes moved to the small, child-sized dark rosewood lute that Master Kalyan had left for her weeks ago, which now rested on its low side stand near the carpet. "And the wood carries the sound clean. It doesn't buzz."

Standing nearby, Master Kalyan raised his graying eyebrows in pleasant surprise. He bowed respectfully toward my six-year-old sister.

"An accurate ear, Princess Shivsundari," Master Kalyan said warmly. "It is indeed the density of the front wooden board that keeps the strings from vibrating harshly against the frets. Let us see if your hand placement has improved since our last session. Your father mentioned you were practicing your finger positions by the hearth the other morning."

Shivsundari didn't hesitate. She set her warm tea down on the side tray, stepped closer, and lifted the small rosewood instrument onto her lap, resting it carefully against her thigh just as she had been practicing in her room.

"Hold the small picking ring lightly between your thumb and forefinger," Vasundhara Di instructed gently, leaning over to adjust Shivsundari's wrist. "Do not strike hard. Keep your arm relaxed, just like we practiced."

Shivsundari adjusted her grip, keeping her posture steady and her arm relaxed. She drew her small finger across the main steel string, letting out a pure, steady tone. But just like her practice sessions in her bedroom, her short child fingers didn't quite have the physical strength of her mind yet. When she tried to slide her fingers down to press the lower cord for the middle part of the transition, her small thumb slipped on the hard wood, and the chord let out that same dull thud she had been struggling with.

Shivsundari huffed slightly, her face turning a tiny bit pink as she looked down at her stubborn hands.

"See! I told you it takes real muscle to hold those wires down!" I grinned, nudging her shoulder playfully. "Your fingers are still too short, Sundari. You have to press until your knuckles turn white!"

Master Kalyan smiled in genuine delight, waving his hand. "No, Prince Karna, she is doing beautifully. The placement is completely accurate now, and her shoulder is perfectly loose. The strength in the fingertips will come naturally as she grows."

"If you force it, it resists," Shivsundari murmured softly, wiping her fingers against her blanket before trying the transition again, this time holding the frame a bit tighter. "If you let it breathe, it answers."

Vasundhara Di looked at her little sister with quiet admiration, placing a tender hand on Shivsundari's head. "You are memorizing the positions so quickly, Sundari. Soon you will be joining me for the evening songs before Father and Mother."

"Only if she doesn't spend all her time in the dirt with the horses first!" I chimed in with a loud laugh, though I sat down quietly beside them on the carpet to watch as Shivsundari carefully practiced her transitions under the rising evening stars.