By the time she reached the courtyard stone table, her tea had gone cold.
Lawrence sat with an empty cup and finished snacks.
"I apologize if I kept you—" she said.
"You didn't," he said.
His eyes flicked to the card in her hand. Then to her face.
He hesitated, then sat. He didn't ask anything. Garima didn't say anything.
Garima sat opposite him. Documents were already laid out—the notes she called smart notes. Neatly compiled. Organized by category. Filtered down to what mattered.
Garima pulled out a few blank sheets of her own and an ink bottle she had gotten from a priest earlier.
"Let's begin" she said.
He blinked and nodded.
Garima read through the notes, then began writing on her sheets—in a mix of Hindi and English, something only she could fully understand.
Lawrance leaned in.
"What language is this?" He asked.
"Mine"
"Is it 'divine text'?"
"You could say that"
A pause later he asked
"Will you teach me?"
"Do you want to ?"
"Yes it looks like coded words"
"I will teach you, eventually"
She turned the pages towards him.
"For now, help me divide this"
He leaned closer.
She spoke clearly and precisely.
"For now let's study your notes. They are well compiled. Politics and History— the narrative is fluid. The patterns are easy to understand. And the resources and geography— it can help in survival. Lastly, science. A good bunch of ideas. I can start forming the strategies."
Lawrence was quiet.
"You have done this before"
Garima didn't answer immediately.
Her thumb brushed against the edge of the guild card.
During exams, she thought. Study groups in the library. Her friend Maria's colour coded notes. Studying. Remembering. Recognising.
"Yes" She said "But your notes still need bullet points and underlining, let me show you how it's done"
"So– dots to make the sentences visible and aligned"
"Yes"
"And drawing a line beneath the parts we should focus on"
"Yes"
"Not bad"
He accepted that. Not commenting on the diversion tactic the young Saintess used.
They read together. He explained whatever Garima didn't understand.
The rhythm settled quickly.
She wrote on her pages, sorting information faster than she could fully explain it.
She had spent the first two days terrified of feathered pens. Too much pressure—the nib scratched. Too little—nothing happened. Now her hand moved without thinking.
She understood. Systems. And people. Once you learned it, it stopped being an obstacle.
"Information travels faster as rumor than decree." She said, "which means I just have to guide it"
Garima's pen hovered.
Her mind flickered—to the priests and priestesses. Ava's smile. Dylan sitting far away. Hill and Agatha whispering among themselves. Little Riley running. Donna, Zihan..
Then she looked at Lawrance.
She was planning to use rumour to move people. People who trusted her. People who had names.
The pen moved again. Controlled.
"---it can be done," she said again. Quieter this time.
"I don't know if I understand all of this," Lawrance admitted.
"You will eventually." She said "This will work"
He studied her.
"You are confident"
Garima's lips curved faintly.
"I read enough to recognise the pattern. And I have seen the vision too"
And I have read survival and strategy novels to know how things fail. She thought.
Lawrance was quiet for a moment.
"Most people who are confident" he continued "don't need to remind themselves"
Garima looked at him.
"This not criticism, Your Holiness"
"Just your observation?" Garima asked.
He didn't answer.
Garima turned to the map of Arden.
"Lawrence I need someone who can openly criticize. Correct me and challenge me."
I only know about the broader aspects as a writer. She thought. Help me fill the gaps.
She let him think. And paused. Her gaze moved across the territories.
She circled a few.
Lawrance watched her for a moment.
Then—
"You are reading the eastern borders wrong," he said.
Garima's pen stopped.
"The trade routes here—" he pointed out "have been closed for eleven years. The bridge collapsed. Whatever you are planning won't work the way you think"
Garima looked at the map, then at him.
She wrote the aftermath of the attack. After the invasion, a route with a collapsed bridge didn't matter. It was a matter of survival. People passed through it. They have to repair it.
"Why do you think I circled it?" She asked
"I don't know, I informed what I know"
"Good" she said "keep doing that"
Then—
"Your Holiness—"
Ava entered without knocking. Breathless.
Garima stood immediately."What happened?"
"The boy….Conrad" Ava continued "His mother— he brought her here… she is shaking"
"Calm down, Ava" Garima said "Where are they now?"
"In the priestess quarters"
"Take me there"
Ava ran, Garima followed, Lawrance came behind them.
She reached the room. Priest Zihan, Priest Hill and Priestess Agatha were already there–
along with the boy Conrad.
His mother lay on a bed hastily brought in.
Garima looked at her. Too still.
Then—
a twitch.
Her fingers jerked. Her lips moved faintly.
Garima stepped closer and knelt beside her.
She touched her forehead.
Cold skin. Shallow breathing. Slight sweat. Unfocussed eyes.
Hypoglycemia.
"Ava, bring me something sweet"
"What?"
"Now, Ava. Anything .It has to be sweet"
"Since when?" She asked Conrad without looking at him.
She lifted the woman's head slightly, supporting her neck.
"I don't know—she was fine….then she stopped eating yesterday….you said less rice so–"
"Can you hear me?" She asked the woman. There was no response.
The woman's hand trembled harder.
Not good.
"Stay with me," Garima muttered.
Ava returned, nearly slipping.
"Mother," Conrad shouted "Can you hear me?"
"Hold him, Zihan!" Garima said sharply.
Zihan moved immediately, pulling the boy back covering his mouth before he could shout again.
"I–this" Ava held out with a piece of something that looked like jaggery.
Good enough.
"Quickly–soften it with water. She won't be able to swallow it whole"
Ava's hands shook.
"Let me" Agatha came with a small bowl of water.
She broke the piece, softened it and pressed it gently against the woman's lips.
The woman swallowed.
"Again"
"Is she–?" Priest Hill asked.
"Not yet" Garima cut in. "She will be"
Agatha repeated the process—small amounts, careful. Not forcing too much.
A minute passed.
Then another.
The trembling eased.
The woman's breath hitched.
Garima exhaled slowly.
"That's it," she murmured.
The woman's eyes fluttered. Not fully aware— but closer.
Garima adjusted her position, easing her onto her side.
At some point, Conrad broke free from Priest Zihan's hold.
"Will she be better ?" He asked.
"Yes," Garima said "She will be"
Then her hands moved differently.
Just like her grandfather had taught her.
She pressed her thumb just below the woman's collar bone. Then along the inner wrist. Measured points. Breath syncing with touch. Stimulating.
The woman flinched slightly.
"What is that, Your Holiness?" Priest Zihan asked.
"Circulation" she said quietly "we keep her awake"
It was the first time she had tried it.
A few moments later.
"Conrad ?"
He froze, and leaned forward "Mother–mother"
"Slow" Garima said "don't overwhelm her"
Conrad swallowed.
"I am here mother"
The woman's breathing evened out.
"I didn't say starve, Conrad" Garima said flatly.
"I am sorry"
"She must have heard 'less rice' and stopping eating entirely"
"I didn't keep an eye on her…"
"You should, this method can't work otherwise" Garima snapped.
Then she took a deep breath. She can't blame it on this boy alone. She should have told more clearly.
She looked at him properly now.
"Less rice means balance. Not absence. Don't create a problem worse than the first one"
He nodded quickly
"Come here" she said
He went to her
"If you don't understand this" she continued, quieter but sharper, "this will happen again. And next time—"
She didn't finish.
Her hands tightened briefly on his shoulder.
" —The results may not be the same"
"I will make sure it doesn't happen again" he said.
"Good"
Garima stood.
"Don't worry, let her rest here"she said "I will come back when she wakes up, prepare something light for her"
"Yes, Your Holiness" Priest Hill said.
"Thankyou" Conrad bowed.
Garima's hands tightened at her side—
then loosened.
Everything was real. Alive. Breathing.
It would not follow her plan. Not like a story
She would have to be more careful.
The world could go wayward.
Next time, she wouldn't let that happen.
She nodded at the people there
Turned and left.