Chapter 14 #4
Despite not practicing professionally, she had remained deeply engaged with the field. Her continuous study of child psychology, combined with her hands-on experience with her students, had kept her updated with real-world application and current educational practices.
What she lacked in formal clinical exposure, she compensated for with clarity of thought, conceptual strength, and practical understanding.
Against expectations, she cleared the interview with flying colors.
Four out of five panelists were genuinely impressed. Only one remained unconvinced, questioning her lack of direct clinical experience with patients. Mr. Samuel, in particular, remained skeptical.
Ironically, Akansha silently wished for the opposite outcome. She kept focusing on her lack of clinical exposure and secretly hoped that Mr. Samuel would reject her. But fate had other plans.
She was selected.
Shaurya had also instructed the committee to finalize the team—academicians, teachers, and subject experts—before formally onboarding Akansha, knowing his wife liked to work best in structured, disciplined environments with detail-oriented teams. And as expected, she met those expectations.
------------
"Any queries?" Mrs. Arora asked formally, assuming Akansha would simply express gratitude and leave.
"Actually, yes, Mrs. Arora," Akansha replied.
"Is it regarding your pay, Ms. Akansha? As mentioned, it will be fixed by the Education Ministry," Mrs. Arora responded.
"It’s not about the pay," Akansha said calmly. "I would like to know about the team I will be working with. If possible, I’d like their basic details—roles, experience, and areas of expertise."
Her confidence visibly surprised the panel.
"I’m sorry, but this is how I work. I prefer understanding the team’s strengths and backgrounds before beginning. It helps me align better. I’d also like to review the details before officially joining. I assume the team has already been finalized?" she asked.
She was aware that primary school teachers had already been shortlisted, but she was uncertain about the remaining members, which is why she asked.
"Yes, Ms. Akansha. The team has been finalized. I’ll have the IT department send you the details," Mr. Khanna replied, recovering from Mrs. Arora’s visible surprise and mild displeasure at Akansha’s assertiveness. "We look forward to working with you."
"Thank you, Mr. Khanna," Akansha said politely. "If there are no further questions, may I leave?"
"Yes, of course, Ms. Akansha," Mr. Khanna replied with a small smile.
He was the most impressed by her among all panelists. Her confidence, in his view, reflected capability rather than arrogance. However, a few others were not as open-minded—especially Mr. Samuel.
"Kindly try to be less direct and more diplomatic. Our head is the Education Minister, and more importantly, the Ch—"
"Thank you for coming, Ms. Akansha," Mr. Khanna interrupted smoothly, sensing the direction the comment was heading. "See you."
Akansha gave a polite nod and left.
Mr. Khanna’s intervention stopped her from responding. Otherwise, she would have firmly put Mr. Samuel in his place.
------------
"The CM recommended her, and look at her attitude. It’s as if she assumed selection was guaranteed," Mr. Samuel scoffed after she left.
"I don’t think that’s the case," Mr. Khanna replied calmly. "The Chief Minister left the final decision to the panel. It was our collective call to select her."
He looked at Mrs. Arora, subtly signaling her to intervene and diffuse the situation.
"Mr. Khanna is right, Mr. Samuel. She is talented, and her understanding of relevant topics—especially her planning ability—is very impressive. Our only concern is her skillset; her attitude can be refined over time," Mrs. Arora said.
Her statement didn’t sit well with Mr. Khanna.
In his view, Akansha was already perfect the way she was.
A senior academician, philanthropist, and businessman, he had spent years identifying rare talent—and he knew talent when he saw it. To him, Akansha was a gem. And her so-called “attitude” was not a flaw, but part of her strength.
"I’ll take your leave," Mr. Khanna said, standing up.
He no longer felt like engaging with outdated mindsets that still equated a confident woman with arrogance.
---------
A week later...
It was her first day at the Secretariat.
A place she had once sworn she would never step into—no matter how urgent the work—if he ever became the Chief Minister.
Yet here she was.
Guided by Akash’s instructions, she entered the Educational Ministry wing carefully, making sure she didn’t miss a turn or look out of place.
It wasn’t just about professionalism; it was about survival.
These weren’t forgiving people, and she had no intention of giving them even a single reason to question her.
She walked into the grand hall where the committee members were supposed to assemble and be addressed by the state’s Education Minister.
And then she saw it.
The black granite nameplate outside the hall.
Shaurya Singh Shekhawatt – Minister of Education.
Her steps stopped mid-stride.
“What the hell?” she whispered under her breath.
She didn’t even notice Mr. Khanna standing just behind her.
“Is there a problem, Ms. Akansha?” he asked gently.
She straightened instantly, forcing control back into her expression.
“N… no. Nothing, Mr. Khanna. Everything is fine.”
But it wasn’t convincing—not even to her.
Akash hadn’t told her. Of course he hadn’t. And worse, she hadn’t bothered to check either. A rare lapse, and it had led her straight into a situation she had been actively avoiding for years.
“You sure? You don’t look fine to me,” Mr. Khanna said, studying her carefully.
“I’m fine, sir. Just… nervous,” she replied quickly.
That made him frown. He had never known her to be nervous. Not like this. Her usual composure was missing—replaced by something tighter, controlled, almost like she was calculating escape routes in her head.
“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. Let’s go inside. The CM will be here any moment,” he said.
“Yes… I’ll come in shortly. Please go ahead,” she replied.
He hesitated for a second, then nodded and left, giving her space without pressing further.
The moment he was gone, she pulled out her phone.
Akash picked up almost immediately—he already knew what was coming.
“Akash… you idiot—why didn’t you tell me? I’m not letting this go—”
Her voice dropped into a furious whisper.
But she stopped mid-sentence.
A familiar voice cut through the corridor.
“Postpone my meetings for an hour, Shweta. I want to interact with the team properly.”
Her grip on the phone tightened.
That voice didn’t belong here in her life anymore.
And yet it was already getting closer.
She closed her eyes for a brief second, forcing herself to steady her breathing. Not now. Not here.
Footsteps approached, measured and controlled.
She didn’t turn yet.
Shaurya Singh Shekhawatt walked in with his secretary beside him, his presence filling the corridor before anyone even announced it.
His gaze landed on her.
For the smallest fraction of a second, his steps slowed.
Off-white and sea-green suited her in a way that was quietly disarming. But he didn’t let it show. Not here.
He continued walking, composed.
“Dr. Dixit… welcome onboard,” he said, extending his hand.
Only then did she turn around.
Her expression was carefully neutral—too controlled to be natural.
And for the first time in a long time, both of them stood in the same space pretending the past wasn’t standing right between them.