Each evening, the family gathered in preparation for dinner. The mat was cleared, and the low table was placed at the centre. Many hands made light work of the setup: Sein arranged the cutlery and glasses of water, while Kin La and Thiri washed up and changed into their house clothes.
Meanwhile, Chit, brimming with excitement like a playful kitten, bounced around, delighted by the growing household. With both Sein and Ungyi around, she had no shortage of attention or distractions during the day.
Maiah was as usual rustling up something in the kitchen, the rich aroma of her cooking teasing their appetites. When the food was ready, they all crowded around the table, now a little fuller with Ungyi's presence.
Maiah placed a steaming container of soup on the table. The broth, infused with the delicate flavours of fish, banana stems, and shallots, carried the warmth of earthy spices, mingling with lemongrass and garlic, stirring a familiar sense of home in Sein.
Each bowl received a generous mound of noodles, crowned with slices of boiled egg, fresh coriander, and a dusting of vibrant chilli powder. Finally, Maiah ladled the thick, turmeric-hued soup over it all, letting the golden liquid cascade through the layers, binding them into a perfect harmony of flavours.
"We are grateful for our food," they all said in unison.
The moment Sein took her first sip, the salty, sour, and spicy flavours swept over her, carrying her back to the bustling streets of the capital. To that particular night when she and Zeya had slipped away, to share this very fish soup under the glow of lanterns.
***
After their successful adventure sampling the capital's street fare, Zeya was eager to take Sein to a renowned food stall in the northern district, famous for its fish soup, a dish so beloved it had become synonymous with the city's cuisine.
Sein accepted without hesitation. Every chance to see him was precious, knowing their time together would inevitably end when he married. But for now, she would savour every moment with him.
Sein and Zeya departed via the north gate, wearing clothes that would ensure they would blend in with the populace. Again, the guards had been paid by Saw Win to turn a blind eye to the comings and goings of the young prince.
Once they were out on the city streets, unbound by the confines of the palace, Sein felt a newfound sense of freedom as they strolled side by side. Zeya openly displayed his attentiveness, occasionally his hand would graze Sein's back, subtly guiding her away from obstacles or shielding her from oncoming crowds. Sein was equally less guarded, her eyes shone with admiration, solely focused on Zeya as they chatted.
"What have you been doing today?"
"Nothing much. I've been studying the human anatomy."
"Well, if that's 'nothing much,' I'd be quite interested to see what you consider something significant."
"You know what I mean. It's just something to keep me occupied. I'm far more interested to hear about your day."
"Are you truly curious about my daily duties, or just being terribly polite? Either way, it's rather lovely having your attention."
"I'm all yours—I mean, all ears!"
Sein laughed clearly enjoying the chance to mimic his slip of the tongue from when they first met.
"I see that little blunder of mine has made a lasting impression," Zeya replied, with a wry smile. "You do have a knack for recalling all my words."
"Seriously, you do have my full attention. Tell me about your day."
"Well, if you insist. This morning I was assigned administrative tasks, hands-on experience in governance, they call it. A rather practical approach, I suppose, but not the most thrilling. To be honest, it was tedious shadowing the chief advisor who manages the day-to-day affairs of the state.
"And this afternoon, my mother paid me a surprise visit, apparently to spend some quality time with her son. But I soon realised her real purpose was to encourage me to take a more active part in public festivals and ceremonies. She insisted that I represent the royal family and connect with the people which I have eluded so far. That, of course, is why I didn't manage to make it to the Archives to see you."
"I'll forgive you since you're gracing me with your presence this evening," Sein jested, then turning serious, she noted, "You don't sound too enthusiastic about public appearances."
"I'd rather not have my face recognised by the people. It would mean giving up moments like this, to be able to slip out and wander freely as I wish." Zeya glanced over at Sein. "You know, I'll have Khin Yu stuck to me, like sap from jackfruit trees, whenever I leave the palace. And we wouldn't be able to…"
He trailed off but Sein understood what he meant. She wouldn't be able to accompany him.
As they navigated the city streets, lit by the warm glow of lanterns spilling out from the houses, their steps fell into a natural rhythm, each absorbed in their own thoughts.
Since they were venturing out later than before, Sein spoke up, "Zeya, is there enough time to head for the northern district? Will we be back before the music event concludes this evening?"
Zeya sensed her concerns and responded, "I assure you, we'll be back right on time. You have my word. Trust me."
"I trust you completely," Sein said, glancing at him.
Then, as if suddenly wary of how sincere it sounded, she tilted her head and added lightly, "Is that what you say to all the ladies you take out into the capital?"
"Absolutely," Zeya replied without missing a beat. "Every single one."
They paused under a tree as Zeya scanned the cross streets to check their direction.
Then he continued, "Once out on the streets, I shall do my upmost to entertain until first light. By morning, one will be acquainted with the harsher realities of life in the capital."
"Wonderful," Sein said, catching the glint of mischief in his eyes. "What harsh realities are you exposing me to today?" She reached out and brushed away a stray leaf from Zeya's shoulder.
"Apparently even being as charming as I am, doesn't get you to the front of the queue when there's good food involved. Outrageous, really."
"Since you're in disguise, no one knows you're prince charming. If they did, you wouldn't have to queue at all. I mean, wouldn't they bring their fish soup on a golden platter to the palace just for you?"
"But where's the fun in that? The real excitement is in being part of the scene, elbow to elbow with everyone else, soaking in the smells, the chatter, the joy of it all," Zeya reasoned, there was a glimmer of warmth and fondness in his eyes. "And are you in the habit of going off in the evenings with a lord?" He arched an eyebrow.
With a quiet, amused chuckled, Sein responded, "Of course, I'm out wandering the streets with some lord or another. But I must admit, you are the first prince."
At that, Zeya smiled tenderly.
"Well then, I'd best make a lasting impression, hadn't I? Just so you don't, you know… mix me up with some other hopelessly charming prince."
He straightened, adopting a mock formality.
"I shall now behave as a true prince ought and formally request the honour of your hand. If you'd be so kind, Lady Sein."
Zeya extended his right hand, the other tucked neatly behind his back.
"I don't make a habit of granting such requests to charming princes you know," Sein returned playfully as her hand reached out to his. "But I suppose I can make an exception, just this once."
When his fingers closed around hers, a flutter of nervous excitement surged through her as she became acutely aware of the softness of his skin and the warmth of his hand holding hers. Thank goodness it was dark and he couldn't see the blush that blazed across her cheeks. It was the first time he'd requested for her hand, and Sein found herself wondering if there was any meaning behind it.
I'm sure Zeya is just playing a role, she convinced herself.
Together, they continued along the main road, their strides matching effortlessly, wrapped in a comfortable silence. That was when Sein noticed, the streets were bursting with life. Men congregated in tea shops, their voices animated as they shared stories or focused on spirited card games. Other couples likewise held hands and strolled leisurely.
A gentle breeze carried the tantalising aromas of home-cooked meals from nearby houses. Occasionally, a group of young people paused by a friend's home, calling out invitations to join them. Sounds of laughter and the hum of city life played in the background. It was a lively part of the capital. No one paid any attention to the prince and lady. It was true, it felt good to be part of the vibrant scene, holding his hand.
***
"Sein, do you not like fish soup?" Maiah asked anxiously. "Is it not to your liking?"
Realising she'd been caught up in her thoughts rather than eating, Sein smiled and replied, "It's delicious, Maiah. It made me think of the fish soup from the capital. But yours is even better."
This was true. Maiah's fish soup was light yet full of hearty flavour. A zesty freshness, Sein couldn't put her finger on, perfectly balanced the richness of the dish. She was truly impressed.
Delighted by the compliment, Maiah said, "I'm glad. It's my mother's recipe. Her family originated from the capital. I thought it may comfort you to have something familiar."
Sein was touched by her thoughtful gesture.
"Will you teach me how to cook fish soup?" Sein asked, surprising herself.
She rarely set foot in a kitchen. As a lady, it had always been frowned upon to perform menial tasks, and she was never permitted to handle food. But she was not a lady anymore, was she. She was free to do as she wished. Learning a new skill would give her a welcome distraction. And she had to admit, she enjoyed being useful to this family.
"Yes I will," Maiah said, smiling. "I'll teach you the secret to this recipe. It's the lemongrass that gives it the lightness."
When Maiah promised to teach Sein, she wasn't aware what she was getting herself into. First of all, Sein didn't even know an onion needed to be peeled before chopping. Her knife skills made Maiah winced many times, in fear of Sein cutting her fingers off. And since she'd never cooked with fire, Sein couldn't judge the heat and burnt the onions on the first few attempts, creating a bitter soup.
What took Sein the longest time to master was preparing the fish. It was inconceivable to touch a raw one, caught from the river that morning. Its scales were slippery and its clear eyes staring back at her. She couldn't help but feel intimidated by that stare. She blanched at the very thought of cutting into it.
Maiah patiently encourage and suggested, "Stare back at the fish and give thanks. It's providing us with nourishment. And don't worry, it'll take time to get used to handling fish."
Eventually Sein managed to gut, clean and fillet it, but never enjoyed the process. By the third month, after cooking fish soup when ever fish was available, Sein managed to achieve the impossible.
"This soup tastes like my own," Maiah remarked, her eyes wide in disbelief, or was it relief. "You've worked so hard at it. I admire your persistence and determination."
Sein grinned, "Others might see it as stubbornness."
"There is nothing wrong with being a bit of an ox," Ungyi spoke up. "Persistence, determination and a little of stubbornness are sometimes necessary to pursue what truly matters."
"Well said," Maiah beamed.
Sein wouldn't let Maiah clear up, not wanting her to have to clean the mess she created in the kitchen. Instead she accepted Kin La's help. She noticed the girl wasn't her usual chatty self.
When they were washing the dishes, Sein asked, "What's wrong? You're not happy with something."
"It's nothing," Kin La responded.
"I can tell there's something bothering you. What is it? I'm here to listen."
"It's just that it's easy to see that the boy from Yamayo likes Thiri but… when it comes to myself," Kin La sighed. "I don't know. I mean I know I'm not a pretty girl, not like you or Thiri. I'm very plain and ordinary. No one pays any attention to me."
Sein listened patiently, familiar with that spiral of self-doubt born of comparison, how other stars always seemed to shine brighter when you were only one among many. More often than not, she herself had felt plain and ordinary, despite reassurances from others she wasn't.
When she did receive attention and admiration, it did little to ease her sense of unworthiness. Being considered beautiful, she'd come to realise, carried its own burdens. Other ladies saw her as competition and treated her as such, while lords regarded her less as a person and more as something to possess.
"Kin La, beauty begins here." Sein rested a hand against her own chest. "You may be charming to look at, but without kindness, humility and warmth, the appeal fades quickly. And with those qualities, even the most ordinary face can become truly beautiful."
Kin La's brows furrowed as she considered this. With no sisters of her own, Sein was unpractised at offering comfort and found herself searching for what to say next, when Kin La spoke up.
"How can you tell for sure whether a boy likes you?"
Sein was lost for words. She was never sure how Zeya felt about her. How could she advise Kin La on such matters?
"I'm hardly an expert on love," she replied. "If anything, I'm the least qualified to give advice… my one experience didn't turn out well."
"What happened?"
Kin La was immediately interested. She passed the last bowl that had been cleaned to Sein, who wiped it dry.
What could she say?
There was this boy, and he turned out to be the Crown Prince. He seemed to like me but how could that be possible. He's now married to a princess. I was deluding myself.
"Oh nothing really," Sein replied cautiously. "I suppose it was a disaster to fall for someone who couldn't return my feelings."
Again those words Lady Meena said, 'Do not choose a mango that is out of your reach' haunted her. Closing up like a clam, she changed the subject swiftly, "Tell me about this boy you like."
Kin La hesitated, then seeing Sein really did wish to listen, she began, "He's you know, kinda cute… he seems nice. He's around a lot when it's ploughing time. You know, to check on the oxen. This week he's been at the field everyday."
"I see," Sein said. "He looks after animals?"
She picked up the broom and started sweeping the floor.
"Yes, he's a healer, just like my father."
"Your father is an animal healer?"
"No, he healed people. He was a medic," Kin La said, her eyes downcast. "My father was killed by bandits a few years ago on his way home from the north. We don't really know what happened. The roads are not safe like they used to be."
Sein leaned the broom against a wall and walked over to Kin La to put an arm around her shoulders.
"I'm sorry to hear about your father."
Her mind shifted to her own father, but before she could entertain any more thoughts, Thiri entered the kitchen to ask, "What's taking so long? Come on, you two. The cards are all set up. Grandpa and I will play the two of you. We're gonna win!"
The following morning, as golden light stretched across the land, Sein drew water from the well before walking to the fields where people were preparing for the upcoming harvest. The irrigation channels, freshly cleared, shimmered in the sunlight, ensuring the crops remained well-watered.
Sein breathed in the familiar scent of tilled earth and freshly cut wheat as she passed familiar faces, pausing here and there to exchange a few words about the weather and the state of the crops.
By mid-morning, the sun had climbed high enough to drive the workers into the dappled shade of a line of trees bordering the road. Sein joined them, refilling their water skins from the vessel she carried. Beneath an old oak, they shared steamed buns along with stories and jokes, their bursts of laughter scattering birds from the branches above.
Sein paused, taking in the scene and chuckled inwardly. How had she become someone who knew everyone? When did she start enjoying chatting with so many people? She barely recognised herself.
Perhaps it was because there were none of the social hazards of court society, and she felt at ease, free from judgment. People were honest, direct, and straightforward. There was no need to be concerned with ranks, formal language, or appropriate etiquette. She could simply be her true, authentic self, similar to the way she was with Zeya.
The real purpose of this visit to the fields was to check out the boy Kin La spoke about. Sein felt strangely protective of her, like a big sister. Who was this guy playing with Kin La's heart strings?
When she saw the man in question, she was pleasantly surprised. He looked to be a few years older than Kin La, with gentle manners and a kind face. He was talking with an older man, whom Sein recognised as one of their neighbours. However, it was clear the young man's attention often strayed to where Kin La stood.
What struck Sein was the way his eyes lingered on the girl. She recognised that look; it was the same way Zeya gazed at her. Her heart quickened at the realisation. It was plain that this man admired Kin La, but despite having feelings for him, Kin La showed no signs of reciprocating it. Perhaps that was the problem. He was uncertain of her heart, and she of his. Something had to be done.
When determination sets in, Sein was an unstoppable force. She casually walked over to the young man and introduced herself.
"Would you be so kind as to come and take a look at our duck?" she asked boldly. "He does not seem well."
Kin La, overhearing this, was concerned. She asked, "What's happened to Bhell?"
"A little out of sorts," Sein replied, trying to be vague. "I hope, Maung, you will be able to have a look at Bhell. Will you come around sun set?"
"I will," Maung promised.
Sein knew he was unlikely to refuse her request, as it was an opportunity to help Kin La's family. In truth, it was a small test, a way to measure his genuine interest in Kin La.
The stage was set. Sein was pleased with herself. Maiah had taken Ungyi back to live with her brother-in-law and would not return until the following morning. That meant, the house was entirely hers to command, and went home to set about making fish soup, the only dish she knew how to cook well.
When Maung turned up, it wasn't a surprise to anyone. Sein had already warned Chit and Thiri of what to expect, and of her cunning plan.
"Kin La, would you show Maung where Bhell is," Sein requested, her eyes twinkling.
After examining the duck and finding nothing amiss, Maung and Kin La returned to the house. It was perfect timing; Sein had finished cooking. Thiri had laid the table, with an extra bowl at the request of Sein.
"I cannot find anything wrong. I believe your duck is healthy," Maung said, standing in the doorway.
He had his sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms. Kin La entered the house, hesitating at the doorway.
"I am glad to hear it. Bhell must have recovered from the upset this morning. We are grateful you took the time to come," Sein said graciously. "Will you stay for dinner? It is the least we can offer for your time. We have already laid the table for you to join us." She wasn't going to take a refusal.
"Much appreciated. If it is not too much trouble."
"We absolutely insist," Sein returned, beckoning for him to step inside.
He looked slightly uneasy, his eyes darting repeatedly to Kin La. She showed the way to the table.
Once they had said their prayers to Spirit of Sustenance, and served, Sein turned to Maung, "How did you become interested in healing animals?"
"My family are farmers," Maung replied shyly. "We raise oxen for ploughing the fields and chickens for eggs. I have always liked animals and wanted to use herb knowledge to heal them when they are sick."
Sein smiled. "That is an admirable pursuit."
"Tell Sein, where your love of animals came from," Kin La urged, with a look of tenderness in her eyes.
"It was an encounter with a tiger when I was a young boy," Maung said, smiling at Kin La. He turned to Sein and continued, "My grandfather and I were in the lowland forests on our way home. We were preparing to camp for the night, when we came across a tiger. I remember the roar, it was terrifying. I was paralysed with fear."
"What happened next?" Thiri asked, the suspense fuelling her, when Maung paused recalling the event.
"My grandfather remained calm and he stepped forward as the tiger approached. He put his hands together and prayed to Spirit of Animals to send pure, unconditional love and kindness to the tiger. Then he said out loud, 'We have not come to harm you, and we will not harm you. Please leave us in peace.' And the tiger turned and disappeared back into the forest. My grandfather said the tiger was with her cubs, and they had an understanding, they were both protecting their young."
"That is truly extraordinary," Sein remarked.
"Since that experience, I have much respect for animals and I hope to look after those that are injured or sick."
"You mentioned using herbs to heal animals. Where did you learn about these herbs?" Sein asked.
"A teacher from the next village has many books on herbs. He is helping me study them so that I can learn the art of healing. I am not very skilled at reading complicated text."
"You are learning though," Kin La spoke up.
Maung beamed at her and replied, "I am."
When Maung managed to eat a spoonful of the soup, he complimented, "This is delicious. Much appreciated, Sein."
"I am glad you like the soup. It is this family's recipe and Maiah has kindly shared it with me," Sein said then before she fired off more questions, she stopped herself.
She didn't wish to sound like she was interrogating him. Really she wanted to ask, What are your intentions towards Kin La?
After eating, Chit and Thiri followed Sein's cue by clearing the table and making themselves scarce. They left Kin La with Maung to give them a chance to speak in private.
Sein felt a certain amount of satisfaction seeing the fruits of her labour. A little nudge was all it took to get Maung and Kin La talking. Eventually they were able to figure out that their feelings for each other were mutual.
Perhaps when two people were fated to be together, love was meant to grow this easily, this naturally. The idea stung. Her own fate, it seemed, had already followed the course set out by stars. But the stars weren't everything. They'd not foretold her early death, or ascending to spirit-hood. And now that she was Spirit of Cloth, surely she could choose her own path.