The Chaos Curse (Kiranmala and the Kingdom Beyond #3) - Sayantani DasGupta Page 0,62
anchor Miss Twinkle Chakraborty’s MeTube channel, where Twinkle had done a little segment on the fancy engagement party. Tiktiki One, who was sticking to Naya’s shoulder like glue, flicked out its tongue as if in excitement to see the clip.
“I’m livestrooming from the event of the milloonium!” squealed the nose-ringed and heavily mascara’d anchor, her face mere inches from her camera screen. “I’m here with my handsoom date, ex–Kingdom Beyoond cricket captoon Suman Rahamoon.”
“Heya, Kingdom Beyond superfans,” drawled Suman Rahaman. He was wearing a glittery black sherwani, and Miss Twinkle was in a white chiffon sari. Despite being in a high-collar jacket, “Sooms” had still managed to keep enough buttons undone to show a bunch of chest hair and his gold chain necklace.
“Gross,” I muttered.
“Oh, come on, I think he’s dreamy,” drawled the rakkhoshi Priya in a sarcastic voice. The effect of her words was even more ruined by the fact that she scratched her bald head with her long-taloned hand as she spoke.
“The doonce floor is hoopin’! They’re dooing the cain-cain, the macaroona, and the elooctric slide,” said Miss Twinkle, mispronouncing dances so old-fashioned I wasn’t sure I even really knew what they were. “And look, there’s the looscious snaky bridegroom himsoolf doing the flooss!”
“Oh, I don’t think I can unsee that,” I groaned. I squinted at the screen, watching Sesha do the side-to-side hip-swinging dance that looked like someone, well, flossing their teeth. It was super weird.
Besides the dancing, Sesha looked just like he always did—green-black hair, perfect skin, piercing eyes, and a-little-too-sharp-for-comfort teeth. He was the only person not dressed according to the engagement party’s black-and-white dress code. His green velvet jacket was close enough to black to pass in some light, but its snaky color still shone through.
“Thank you so much for celebrating our joy with us!” Miss Twinkle’s cell phone camera panned violently left, and caught, through a bunch of other people’s arms, Neel’s mom giving what sounded like a heartfelt speech. She was dressed in a black-and-white sari studded with diamonds. Her hair was flowing lusciously over her horns and shoulders, and her eyelashes were glamorously silky and long. Jewels glittered at her neck, arms, and ears, and she looked like she was actually glowing. Of course, the fancy effect was a little bit ruined by the fact that she kept rubbing her chest and burping as she spoke. “I’m just over the moon to be starting my new life soon, with my all-powerful new husband, ruler of the singular universe! So much better than that last human husband of mine, jerky runaway chicken butt that he was!”
“Is there anything better than a blushing, burping bride?” gushed Suman Rahaman. “Even a blushing, burping bride who’s been known to cannibalize entire villages?”
At these words, Miss Twinkle’s cell phone went all sideways and diagonal.
“Hey, we’re members of the press, and very good-looking besides! We can too have our cameras here,” I heard Suman say. “Do you know who I am? I’m Sooms! Ex–cricket captain and intergalactic heartthrob! Darn it! Don’t you recognize me? I’m the host of Lifestyles of the Rich and Monstrous!”
The camera still didn’t right itself despite all his protests. All we could see was an image of the dance floor and a bunch of feet. In the background, a song about posing like a statue was blaring through the loudspeakers. Some of the partygoers were dancing, and others chanting, “Down with Chaos! Down with Chaos!” as they stomped their feet.
“Yoo coon’t take my phoone!” sputtered Twinkle Chakraborty’s voice. “I’m a moomber of the prooss, you goon! Give it boock!”
But apparently whoever it was didn’t seem to care about her press credentials, because that was the end of the video.
“Dang, that was harsh!” Tuni said.
“Attacking the free press is the first step in establishing authoritarianism,” said Bunty as they cleaned their whiskers.
“Well, that is reassuring, isn’t it, Your Princeliness? Your mother looked … happy?” said Naya in an unsure voice. I could tell she was trying to cheer Neel up.
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “She kinda did seem super happy. If a little burpy. Doesn’t that convince you that she’s getting married to Sesha willingly?”
“I don’t believe it. Maybe the recording was doctored. Or she’s been brainwashed,” said Neel. “Or maybe that’s a body double.”
“Or maybe your mother really wants to marry Kiran’s evil dad,” suggested Tuni.
Neel sighed, running his fingers so harshly through his hair it all stood up. “Or that.”
“As much as I respect all of your input, the truth is, we don’t have