𝐑𝐔𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐀

Ch12 Old Wounds, New Beginnings #2

Hearing this, my mouth practically fell open. I had seen many spoiled, lazy men before, but never anyone with such discipline. And of course - he was a prince, destined to be a king.

I dismissed the servant and walked toward the garden, curious to see what Rudraksh was doing at this ungodly hour...

The moment I stepped into the garden, my eyes went wide - completely frozen at the sight before me.

There he was... Rudraksh Vardhan, sitting cross-legged in the center of the garden, wearing nothing but a white dhoti. The soft morning light kissed his skin, and for a second, I actually forgot to breathe.

His body looked like it had been carved by the gods themselves - broad shoulders, perfectly chiseled chest, every muscle sculpted in definition, yet moving so effortlessly as he breathed.

A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, catching the early sun and making him look almost unreal - like a divine warrior straight out of ancient legends.

The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the calm expression on his face, the way his jawline tightened and relaxed with every breath - everything about him screamed power and peace at once.

I had seen him angry, arrogant, even intimidating, but this Rudraksh...

this was different. This was the man behind the title - raw, serene, breathtaking.

My heart started racing so loud that I was sure the entire garden could hear it. I tried to look away, but my eyes refused to obey. His damp hair brushed against his neck, a few rebellious strands falling over his forehead, and for some reason, I wanted to push them back.

What was wrong with me? Just two days ago, I was calling him "dusht aadmi," and now... here I was, staring at him like some lovestruck fool. The calm energy radiating from him pulled me in like a magnet.

And when a soft breeze brushed past, making the dhoti's edge flutter slightly, I instantly turned my face away, cheeks burning red.

"Hey Gauri Maa..." I whispered under my breath, clutching my saree pallu."

I suddenly realized that for the past five minutes, I had been standing there-staring, wide-eyed, completely lost in the sight of Rudraksh-without even blinking.

Embarrassed, I forced myself to look away, gathered my senses, and rushed inside to the prayer room, pretending to focus on the morning rituals.

But no matter how hard I tried to shift my thoughts, that image of Rudraksh-sitting cross-legged in the garden, the early sunlight glistening against his skin-refused to leave my mind.

One part of me was furious. What is wrong with me? I scolded myself. Why am I even thinking like this?

And yet, the other part of me... well, it couldn't help but giggle silently and whisper, How can someone look that perfect at four in the morning?

Lost between shame and a strange ticklish feeling in my stomach, I somehow finished all my chores. While I was preparing the prasad in the kitchen, Rudraksh came out of the puja room, his face calm and composed after prayer.

And for a moment, I thought, maybe I'd imagined everything. Maybe the man I saw earlier wasn't real at all.

But then, just a few minutes later, his angry voice echoed through the house, loud enough to shake the roof.

Every servant froze in fear, and my hands stopped mid-air, the ladle trembling slightly.

"Roy!"

His tone could make even the bravest soul want to vanish. Roy-the poor servant-ran up the stairs, already pale with fear.

I followed quickly, curious and a little worried. When I reached upstairs, I saw Rudraksh standing outside his room, fury in his eyes, and his shirt clenched in his hand.

He threw it straight at Roy's face and growled,

"This shirt's top button is broken. I told you I wanted to wear it today! Why didn't you check it last night? What am I even paying you for?"

Roy stuttered, trembling, mumbling apologies. But Rudraksh wasn't listening-his anger was radiating like fire.

And that's when something inside me snapped.

How could he treat his staff like that? Just because they work for him doesn't mean they deserve to be humiliated.

Without thinking twice, I walked right up to them and said sharply,

"Roy, you may go."

Roy looked at me like he'd just been saved from a tiger's den, nodded quickly, and ran off.

Rudraksh turned to me, his jaw tight, eyes narrowing as if I had crossed some invisible line.

He looked dangerously calm when he spoke, his voice low,

"Why did you send him away?"

But I didn't care. I held his shirt in my hand, grabbed his wrist before he could walk away, and dragged him inside his room.

He frowned, irritated.

"What is this, Rivanya? I'm already getting late."

I turned around, meeting his glare with equal fire.

"I'm helping you," I said curtly. "Put this shirt on. I'll fix the button."

He raised one eyebrow, that signature smirk tugging at his lips.

"Oh really? And how exactly are you planning to do that?"

I looked at him and said, coolly, “You ask too many pointless questions. Come on let’s see.”

At that he followed me inside without another word.

I went to the drawer, looking for a needle and thread. “Put the shirt on,” I called.

After a moment’s hesitation Rudraksh shrugged and slipped into the shirt. He muttered, “What are you doing? I don’t have time for this don’t waste my time.”

I pulled out a needle and thread and shot back, “Neither do I. I’m not here to idle around with your hands.”

I walked up to him and added, “And anyway, poor Roy was the one you took out your anger on. Why scold him like that?”

Rudraksh drew his brows together. “If the work isn’t done properly, what else am I supposed to do offer him a blessing?”

I answered, blunt as ever, “He’s a human being. Everyone makes mistakes. That doesn’t mean you can chew him up and spit him out.”

He stared at me, silent and sharp, but I ignored his look and bent over his shirt to stitch the broken top button.

I worked carefully: my fingers moving steadily, the needle weaving through fabric.

Rudraksh stood unnaturally still. I kept my head down, but the closeness made everything electric his chest rose and fell under my hand, and I felt warmth from his body seeping into me.

The heat was more than physical; it reached into some corner of me and woke things I hadn’t expected.

A faint, intoxicating scent his cologne, wood and spice and something darker threaded around us. I felt a small, guilty thrill. He’s not so bad, I thought, even as my brain argued it was only fabric and thread that I was fixing.

Finished, I straightened and took two steps back. “There. All done.”

He fastened the button and said lightly, “Impressive, Mrs. Vardhan. You really do know a lot.”

Then he closed the distance and, bending slightly so his face hovered in front of mine, he smiled in a way that was half amusement, half challenge. “What other hidden talents do you have, Sugarplump?”

That nickname "Sugarplump" fell from his lips and something inside me softened. The way he said it sent a little swoon through my chest; it was ridiculous, and it was intoxicating. I swallowed and tried to steady myself.

“I have a lot to do,” I told him, trying to sound brisk. “I’m not as free as you.”

I started to turn away, but his voice stopped me.

“Suniye... Mrs. Vardhan”

(Listen… Mrs. Vardhan.)

The words made me pause. He had a strange way of calling me that made my name sparkle. I turned without looking back. “Yes?” I answered.

“Today we’re installing the idol of Maa Gauri in the house. The jewellery has arrived, everything is set but we haven’t chosen a mangalsutra yet. I have the jeweller coming at seven. Will you help pick it out?”

“Of course,” I said. “I’ll help.”

He hesitated, then asked, softer, “You really kept the fast today, Rivanya?”

Hearing my name spoken by him made me feel oddly warm. “Yes,” I replied.

Rudraksh drew a long breath and then asked, “Look Rivanya, you don’t need to do all this for me. Our marriage how it happened it’s not right. There’s no love between us, no real bond. So why are you doing these wife-like things for me?”

I met his eyes steadily. “Even if our marriage is only in name, even if there’s no love between us, I respect what it means. Your name is linked with mine now, and that cannot be changed neither by you nor by anyone else.

I’ll observe my duties as your wife because it is my right and my choice to do so. No one can stop me from honoring that, not even you.”

He said nothing for a moment; only watched me. I turned and walked away, heading downstairs toward the kitchen, the morning light following me.

I reached the kitchen and went back to finish the half-done chores, but my mind wasn’t in it. The only thing that kept circling in my head was how I would tell everyone in Kashi the truth tonight.

Just the thought of it made my hands tremble. I could already imagine Mamaji’s reaction his anger was something the entire city feared. Once he learned that Papa had forcibly married me to Rudraksh because Alisha ran away… his rage would burn through everything.

He already hated Papa, and this would only add fuel to that fire. What would he do now? What would become of us all?

I sighed deeply, trying to calm my heartbeat, when a servant entered the kitchen and bowed politely.

“Madam, it’s time for Sir’s coffee. Should I make it?”

I looked up and said, “No, I’ll make it myself. Where is your Sir right now?”

“Ma’am, he’s in his office room,” the servant replied, still bowing.

“Alright, you can go,” I said softly.

Once he left, I prepared Rudraksh’s coffee. The aroma of roasted beans filled the kitchen, calming me slightly. After pouring it into a white porcelain cup, I carried it upstairs to his office.

I stopped at the door and knocked lightly. From inside came that deep, commanding voice,

“Come in.”