THE TEARS OF KUMARI KANDAM
CHAPTRE 89

A pair of newlyweds come for a honeymoon to one of the villages that got the nickname fairyland, Pahaad. Even rumors of the previous King and Queen Kumari Kandam often come to the Thighad to relieve fatigue. Similar trees colorful leafy maple, calm flowing river with sparkling pebbles like diamonds, and the sky is always decorated with orange. Who would not round his mouth when treated to such a sight?

"Darling, I want to stay here."

"Hm? Is that what you want or our child?"

"It's certainly both of us's wishes."

The groom laughed. "alright. I'll ask the residents tomorrow."

"I love this cottage."

"This lodge? Hmm yeah, no problem. I think a hundred sacks of salt are enough. I'll work harder. Let's say what you want again."

"You and our son. I want you to be mine forever." The bride hugged her groom who was busy unpacking the contents of the bag.

"The servant is already yours, Your Majesty."

"Sad. Calling me that again. I told you I didn't like it because it would only remind me of my shitty past."

"Oh come on, Your Majesty. You know I didn't mean it that way. The time when you became Queen Kumari Kandam was the time when we could finally meet again, right? How can you think that's annoying."

"Then should I call you a slave from Svarg*?"

Svarg* is a shelter for beautiful-faced male slaves. Some of them were sent to brothels, and some were sent in secret to the queen's palace or harem.

The groom laughed again. "If that's what you want, Your Majesty."

HOSH HOSH HOSH

Dreamlike. All happiness is true only dreams. Jihan had expected it, because the dream was the ninth time. Jihan's tears dripped over her cheeks, which were losing more and more of her tone. And just like last night, Jihan is back to being crazy. Jihan would jump out of her bed, and run towards Sanjeev Rajak's former room, hoping to find the rest of the potion, Vakr*, even if it was only half a drop.

Vakr* is a herb that can make a person's inner eyes open.

If there is still a Vakr potion left, Jihan plans to return to the Lagaam Continent to meet Gaana who got a message from her lover. There might still be another message, Jihan thought in doubt. But the new tool-scented room was empty, even the layout had been completely changed. Jihan was forced to accept, because her orders before going to Lagaam were indeed to clean the room that she considered cursed.

"Depart."

"Okay, Princess." The coachman immediately moved to the southeast without asking where Jihan wanted to go. Because it was the jealousy of the time, the coachman drove Jihan to that place, precisely to the navel of the lover, Firdoos Shyamali.

"We're here, Princess."

"Go back to Sitaara" Jihan replied as she walked out of the carriage.

"I'm sorry? Then what about you, Princess?"

"I'll fuck him till dawn."

The coachman was confused as to what to respond. Normally Jihan would only look at Firdoos Shyamali's navel for a moment, spit at him repeatedly, and then return to Sitaara. But this time it was really the first, not the ninth. Finally the coachman chose to disobey the order and wrestle with the insects of the night, rather than having to leave the insane person to die of cold alone. But when Jihan came back the next day.

"Explain the situation" Jihan told a waiter.

"They came shortly after you, and said they wanted an interrogation. They also carried three stamped warrants, Princess."

"But what the fuck is that? Not only the Chief Investigator Kumari Kandam but also the Chief Investigators Chamakadaar and Jvaala? Shouldn't the Chief Investigator Lagaam be coming? Hah, it's troublesome for that bunch of idiots. Bring me Shisha*."

Shisha* is a Middle Eastern method of smoking using tubes containing water, bowls, pipes, and hoses. In the tube there is a special tobacco that is heated and added flavorings or aromas, such as fruits.

"You look very messy, Princess."

Jihan did not reply, only blowing Shisha's smoke into the ceiling.

"Could something have happened, Princess?" Chief Investigator Kumari Kandam asked again.

"Just calm. The appearance of the woman who had just been raped was much worse than this."

The three Chief Investigators spontaneously cleared their throat together, misbehaving.

"Say point. Why did you come at such a rude time," Jihan added.

"Previously please understand our impoliteness, Princess. The situation is urgent, so we have no other choice."

"We have orders from our King, King Arshaq Zamir, King Braheim Bhaavesh, and King Jvaala to interrogate you regarding the escape of Sanjeev Rajak from Chamakadaar prison."

"I don't understand," Jihan replied to the Chief Investigator of Chamakadaar.

"Based on the results of the investigation at the scene are the traces of the last hole excavated by Sanjeev Rajak, as well as the testimony of witnesses namely former brothel workers and residents of Raseela Village, he said, You are set as the only person most likely to hide Sanjeev Rajak."

"What's? He escaped from Chamakadaar prison by digging in the dirt? Crazy fucker." Jihan took a sip of Shishanya, then turned to the Chief Investigator of Jvaala. "It's a pity but I have absolutely nothing to do with that old man."

"Please cooperate with you, Princess." Chief Investigator Jvaala placed the warrant for interrogation, search and detention on the table.

Jihan looked at the three letters alternating while playing the smoke of Shishanya. "I admit I met him that day. But our goals were different, and we parted ways. That's it."

The three Chief Investigators were staring at each other. Jihan understood the meaning of that look. Right, the look of disbelief. Finally Jihan allowed them to search, only until Shisha was wiped out. But the three Chief Investigators and their people resigned themselves, even though the cinnamon-scented Shisha tube looks still half. For they have not succeeded in obtaining evidence, or the evidence has indeed been obliterated. I don't know.

Jihan looked at the third carriage of the Chief Investigator who started to move away from Sitaara. "Are you the ones responsible for cleaning that old jackass' room?"

"Yes, Princess."

"Where did you throw away the corpses that were made guinea pigs by him?" ask Jihan again.

"We dumped some of it to Maan* and some of it to Daant*'s residence*."

Maan* is a tree that has a function like a preservative. In the reign of King Kumari Kandam I, maan is widely used to store animal meat during the Muslim sacrifice.

Daant* crocodiles that usually inhabit rivers that are still not touched by humans.

"His race is not old enough that it is crazy but you are too. Why don't you bury them back in their burrows, huh?"

The dozens of female servants hurriedly kowtowed before Jihan.

"Take their bodies back, then bury them in any empty burrows. Now!" exclaim Jihan.

One problem is solved. That was what Jihan thought until one of her guards came to deliver bad news, as bad as her mood for the past nine days.

" ... Chief Investigators Kumari Kandam, Chamakadaar and Jvaala and his men did not actually return. They hide and they hide. Then when the servants came out of Sitaara, the three Chief Investigators immediately ambushed the procession of their carriage and brought it to His Holiness Braheim."

Jihan clucked, "Cih. Apparently they're not a bunch of idiots."

"Please give the order to finish off the servants before they open their mouths and endanger your safety, Princess."

"Come out" Jihan said to her bodyguard.

"I'm sorry?"

"It turns out you're the real idiot. I said get out, goddamn it!"

Jihan regulated her breathing while looking at her beloved mirror which was now a useless piece. Jihan's mood deteriorates, realizing the price of her conspiracy with Sanjeev Rajak. The servants who were now being led before Braheim were different from the servants who had been grooming them in Kumari Kandam every day. They are loyal servants. Jihan was convinced of that because she grew up with them.

"Prep pen and paper. I will send a reply letter to His Majesty Braheim."

"Please, Princess." A servant deftly prepared what Jihan asked. "Do you want to save those servants, Princess?"

"Yes." Yeah."

"Sooner or later they will definitely give up and open their mouth. So according to the servant there is no point in saving them."

Jihan started writing. "They're similar to that nag and, he's. One of the very few people willing to be on my side without expecting anything in return."

The waiter fell silent, beginning to doubt his assessment of Jihan. It turned out that there was still a hearted demon, and that demon was now in front of him, writing a reply letter without regard to the body and his Saree* that was covered in burial red soil.

Saree* or shari is a type of fabric used by women in India, Bangladesh, Nepal, and Sri Lanka. Saree or shari consists of unsewn sheets of fabric, the variations vary with a length of 4-9 meters worn on the body with a variety of styles.

"Take this letter to His Holiness Braheim. Then get the horse-drawn carriage ready and everything I need for a week."

The servant only received the letter that had just been given the stamp while trying to digest the meaning of Jihan's words.

"Somehow I feel like I'm going to be forced to stay there longer" Jihan added.