Ch21 Accepted by All, Denied by One #4
“Please, come inside.”
I turned to lead them in when suddenly, at the entrance, Rivanya appeared.
She stood there holding the aarti plate, her face partially hidden behind a modest veil. For a moment, I was taken aback. Then I realized this must be Dadi Maa’s guidance.
Good.
At least Gurumaa wouldn’t think that Rivanya was ignorant of our customs and traditions.
Rivanya stepped forward slowly, her head bowed, the veil covering half her face. She performed the aarti for Guruji and Gurumaa with practiced grace, then bent down to touch their feet and seek their blessings.
Not once did she raise her eyes.
I guided Guruji and Gurumaa inside and seated them comfortably. With a subtle gesture, I signaled the servant. He brought two brass lotas of water and a large plate. I knelt down and washed both their feet.
Truth be told, I had never truly believed in rituals. These customs always felt unnecessary to me formalities more than faith. But Dadi Maa had insisted. And whether I liked it or not, I was the future ruler of Vardhanpur. These responsibilities came with expectations I could not ignore.
As soon as I finished, Rivanya returned with water for them.
Guruji accepted it without hesitation.
Gurumaa, however, waved it aside and said coolly,
“All this can wait, Rudraksh. First, I want to properly see your bride.”
Saying this, she stood up.
She walked straight toward Rivanya and lifted her veil herself.
Rivanya’s face was revealed calm, composed, yet visibly nervous. Her eyes remained lowered, her lashes trembling slightly, betraying the storm she was holding inside.
She did not look up even once.
And standing there, watching the scene unfold, a strange unease crept into my chest.
I knew Gurumaa.
Her blunt nature. Her sharp words. Her uncompromising judgment.
For the first time, I found myself silently hoping almost praying that she wouldn’t say something harsh. That she wouldn’t hurt Rivanya with her words.
Because no matter what I told myself…
No matter how much distance I tried to maintain…
The thought of Rivanya being wounded especially in front of everyone made something tighten painfully inside me.
And I stood there, tense and alert, waiting for Gurumaa’s verdict fully aware that whatever came next could change everything.
Gurumaa spoke again, her eyes fixed on Rivanya with an assessing gaze.
“Truly, Rudraksh… just as your grandmother said, your wife is very beautiful.”
Hearing this, I felt a subtle release in my chest. For a brief moment, I thought perhaps this would go smoothly after all.
But that relief lasted barely a second.
Gurumaa continued, her voice firm and unyielding,
“However, beauty alone is meaningless if it is only skin deep. A person’s wisdom must be just as refined especially when she is destined to become the future Queen of Vardhanpur.”
The words landed heavily in the room.
Rivanya did not respond. She stood silently, her gaze lowered, her fingers clasped tightly together. Her stillness spoke louder than words of nervousness, of respect, and of the pressure bearing down on her fragile composure.
Sensing the tension escalating, I stepped in, trying to steer the situation away from turning harsher.
“Gurumaa, please… have a seat.”
Gurumaa turned her sharp gaze toward me immediately.
“Do not try to divert the matter, Rudraksh. I do not need you to tell me what I should or should not do.”
I fell silent.
I knew better than to argue with her especially now.
She turned back to Rivanya and asked coldly,
“So tell me, Rudraksh’s bride… what is your name?”
Rivanya swallowed before answering. Her voice was soft, almost fragile.
“Rivanya…”
Gurumaa nodded once.
“A beautiful name,” she said. “Do you know its meaning?”
Rivanya hesitated for a fraction of a second before replying,
“Yes. Rivanya is one of the names of Maa Gauri.”
Her fear was evident not dramatic, not loud but unmistakable. The way her shoulders stiffened, the way her voice trembled just slightly, the way she still refused to lift her eyes.
And watching all of this
Anger stirred inside me.
Not because Gurumaa was questioning her but because Rivanya was being forced to stand there, proving herself, enduring silent judgment, all because of outdated beliefs and rigid traditions that my family still clung to.
She was standing there alone, answering calmly, respectfully… while the weight of being “the future Queen of Vardhanpur” was placed on her shoulders without mercy.
And for the first time, I realized something uncomfortable.
This interrogation wasn’t just testing Rivanya.
It was testing my patience.
And I wasn’t sure how long I could keep my restraint intact.
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