Chapter 1 You Are My Sonia
“What are you doing here?” asked a voice out of nowhere. Evelyn squinted into the darkness and could barely make out the outline of a human next to a horse. But she unmistakably recognised the voice. It was him. She halted the horse she was seated on. In one swift motion, she swung her right leg to meet her left on one side of it and stepped off the stirrup. Raven, her horse neighed nervously. She instinctively reached down to brush off dust from her riding breeches as usual, and just then realised the mistake she’d made. Women of her time did not wear trousers. Did not ride like men, but side saddled. She nearly cursed out loud. She’d gotten too used to being out in the dark, anonymous and alone. What would he say? Or think?
When she raised her head up, he was standing right in front of her. He hadn’t said anything since he put his question out into the night. Nor had he moved from the spot. She couldn’t be sure, but she felt his gaze on her. Was it disapproving? She finally mustered up the courage to respond to his question: “I assume the same as you, Raja. Nothing like galloping through the solitude of the night to clear your head.” She heard his breath and suddenly felt conscious of exactly how close she was standing to him. For a moment she considered challenging him in this duel of silence, but then again life was too short for that. “Well, enjoy feeling her strength between your legs. Good night.” Did she really just say that? To the Raja? She lightly bit her tongue - afraid to let more stupidity escape her mouth. Her friends would have teased her - they still might. After all though, silence wasn’t her strong suit and eventually she was going to laugh about her own words.
Evelyn pulled Raven’s reins lightly and he followed suit behind her. As she reached the stable, she turned her head over her shoulder. He was still standing, where she had left him. Was his gaze following her? It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. It wouldn’t matter. She gave Raven a pat on the neck and he neighed with delight. She shushed him lovingly - not that he understood - but she didn’t want to stir up the other horses and draw attention to the stable. Evelyn ushered him to his box and locked it. She picked up her long black cloak from the floor, where she had dropped it earlier, and wrapped it around herself. She pulled its big hood over her head and her face disappeared in it. Just her piercing eyes were twinkling underneath it. Now she was satisfied that she could slip through the night unrecognised.
She stepped out of the stable and then she heard it: “Good night, Evelyn.” She turned in his direction, but he was already on his horse riding into the fields. He used her first name? She could feel a heat flowing through her cheeks. He knew her first name? She wouldn’t have dared to call him by his name, would she? Arkesh? It felt so strange in her head that the word didn’t even escape her lips. It was inappropriate indeed to be so familiar with a woman you barely knew, but Evelyn, or Evie, as her actual friends called her, didn’t bother much with social norms. She was aware that others around her often did though, and so she took his use of her given name by him to have been intentional. A positive reply to her tongue slip-up earlier. Or her norm defying riding attire. Either way, it had to mean something.
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Evelyn picked up her books and turned to her study companions: “We better hurry or we’ll be late for biochemistry.” As she left the library and walked down the corridor, as so often, she admired the fine Gothic lines of the arches. They felt imposing and the fact that some were older than the very texts she was studying in her classes at Oxford University always brought back a mix of pride that she was here and an immense fear of failure. Of course, it was just the turn of the century and as one of Oxford’s first female students, Evelyn, had fought hard to get permission to join lectures. Like her few female colleagues, she had to work ten times harder than her male counterparts to justify her being there, but none of the women would actually receive a degree. Either way, she was there for the knowledge and to satisfy her hunger to help advance it. She had big dreams, bigger than society allowed girls to have. She was lucky as well: her parents had done everything to support her in her journey. Everything.
Suddenly, Evelyn was ripped from her daydream as she heard mention of something that peaked her curiosity from a group of students in the hall. The Eton boy crew. As she passed them, she slowed down slightly and listened in to catch some further snippets of conversation. “Has news from the British Raj reached you?” “Outrageous.” “What are they thinking?!” “Uprising.” “They are nothing without us.” She’d heard this before, and now was trying hard to suppress her rage. Whatever was the business of the British in India?! How could they subvert an independent people to their abusive rule? She listened in more closely. “You know our little Raja here, boys. I hear his family made all their money from fraternising with the British. And this ungrateful bastard now repays that by associating himself with groups looking to oppose the Raj.“Biting the very hands that feed them.” “That is why he was sent here, right into the mouth of the beast to face the greatness and superiority of the British.” A light chuckle traveled through the group. But Evelyn didn’t feel like chuckling. She felt an animalistic instinct to punch these Eton boys in their faces. Arrogant pricks. She considered stepping in, but she knew that she’d not move the dial with her anger right here, right now. They tolerated her there as a white British woman, but who would listen to her?
She sped up her steps and hurried for her lecture. She had heard all sorts of rumours about the Raja, and wondered if any of it, especially, about his opposition to the British, was true. It was certainly intriguing.
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During the lecture, Evelyn’s focus just wasn’t there. Her mind was traveling back to her encounter with the Raja. Arkesh. The way he had called her by her first name. Evelyn. “Evelyn, you there?“, her friend, Lauren, elbowed her to bring her back into the room. Right, Ancient Greek. She couldn’t afford to slack off right now. Evelyn took a deep breath in and tried to focus, but soon she gave up. No Ancient Greek was going to get into her head today. It’d have to wait. She had to clear her head first. She quietly left the lecture theatre - both terrified and a little amused at her atypical behaviour. It was the first time she’d ever skipped a class and it was a little bit exciting.
