Chapter 41 #2
Kunwar-sa nodded and turned around.
I hid my face against his chest, aware of the whispers behind our backs and the curious glances cast our way.
“You never miss a chance to embarrass me, do you?” I said as we entered his chamber.
He answered by nuzzling his nose lightly against my neck. “My wife, my embarrassment, and I have no problem with either. Why do you?” he said.
I sighed softly as he set me down on the bed.
He drew a deep breath and knelt before me. I immediately held his shoulder.
“Why are you kneeling?” I asked.
He swallowed and rested his hands in my lap. His gaze softened, and his lips curved into a faint smile.
“My wife… finally, you are my wife,” he said gently. “Not half anymore, my full-fledged wife.” He chuckled at the end.
Happiness tugged at my cheeks, making them ache. A crimson heat spread across my face. He lowered his gaze for a moment, then looked back at me.
“I love you so much,” he murmured. “I don’t know how much ‘so much’ really is, but it’s… a lot,” I sensed the faint tremor of vulnerability in his voice.
“Hey,” I whispered, cupping his cheek. “I know. I know you love me deeply, and trust me, that ‘so much’ means everything to me.”
He kissed my palm, and I couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward to kiss his forehead.
He closed his eyes for a moment, then smiled suddenly. “I didn’t mean to make you emotional. You should rest for a while,” he said.
I gulped. I hadn’t expected him to stop there, ‘You should rest for a while before I take you,’ lingered unspoken in the air.
I smiled and nodded, though something felt off. I could sense it.
“Do you want to go first?” he asked, just as someone entered, carrying a large plate and a bundle of clothes in her hands.
“Choti Beendni-sa70,” she addressed me, and a broad smile spread across my face. She was elderly, so I rose from my seat. “Rani-sa has asked you to change into this fresh pair of clothes for the ritual.”
I nodded, took the plate from her hands, and set it on the table.
“Thank you,” I murmured. Once she left, I turned to Kunwar-sa, who was sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I think you should bathe first,” he said.
I pressed my lips together and nodded.
“And you’ll take a nap?” I asked.
He leaned back on the bed and closed his eyes. “Yes, gladly,” he replied.
I clenched my jaw and lifted my skirt slightly. I was carrying this ton-heavy attire for him, for our marriage, and all he cared about was taking a nap while I struggled to get out of it. Brilliant.
“Kunwar-sa,” I called.
He lifted his head. “Yes, love?” His voice was unbearably sweet.
“I think I should call someone to help me out of this. It’s too heavy, you know,” I said.
He knitted his brows for a moment, then nodded slowly.
“Oh… should I call someone?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes. “No. I have my own voice.”
“Is anyone there?” I called out.
Three attendants came running in, and Kunwar-sa looked at me in shock.
I hate him.
I hate him most.
He wasn’t Kunwar Agastya Dev Singh at that moment.
“Ji,” the attendant replied.
I stood before the mirror and asked them to remove some of my extra jewellery, particularly the choker necklace. I wanted them to take off the rest as well, but I stopped myself. All of it was royal jewellery, and I didn’t feel right removing it unless Badi-maa or Nandani asked me to.
There were still guests in the palace, after all, and I might need to meet them during the rituals.
I exhaled deeply and then asked the attendants to help me out of my attire. Wrapping myself in a white cloth, I went in for a quick bath. I needed to wash the stress off my body.
After bathing, I dressed in the red outfit laid out for me. It was much lighter than the previous one, perhaps meant for prayers and rituals.
Once I was ready, I stepped out of the bathroom and found him asleep on the bed. He had removed his upper garment and was lying on his chest.
I gulped and blinked nervously.
“You may leave now. Thank you,” I said to the attendants. They bowed and quietly left the room.
Walking toward him, I sat on the bed without making much noise, yet my jewellery betrayed me. Soft chimes of tiny bells rang with even the slightest movement of my hand.
“Kunwar-sa,” I murmured, placing my hand on his head. “Wake up. They must be waiting for us.”
He blinked awake, and his eyes were red from lack of sleep.
“Come on, get ready,” I urged.
He stared at me for a few moments, then muttered groggily, “Am I dreaming?”
I chuckled, leaned closer, and gently pecked his lips for just a moment. “No, love. You’re not dreaming.”
He drew in a deep breath and tried to press his lips to mine.
“You smell beautiful,” he said.
I kissed his cheek and whispered, “Come on, get up. You can sleep tonight.”
He rose from the bed, cocking a brow. “You wish.”
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the way he looked at me.
I lowered my gaze at once and sat quietly until he returned, dressed in a simple white outfit.
“Come, let’s go,” he said, holding out his hand.
I stood and placed my hand in his.
We walked together through the corridors and royal garden, making our way to the temple within the palace, where everyone awaited us.
When I was introduced as the third daughter-in-law before the family deity, a surge of emotions swept through me, blessing and gratitude foremost among them.
After offering our prayers, we sought the blessings of our elders. Everything felt dreamlike, as though I were still asleep. A month ago, I had been nothing; today, I was something, and the truth of it was hard to grasp.
Perhaps my patience had borne fruit. Yet, honestly, I had never asked for this, never even dreamt of it. That is the wonder of destiny: what we seek often collides with what we deserve. And when we surrender ourselves to the Almighty, we are granted what is best for us.
I found hope when I had lost all hope. The day I rose from that burning pyre, it was not just my body that learned to breathe again; it was my soul that was finally allowed to live.
And this was not merely about finding Kunwar-sa. It was about finding the right people who understood me and wished me well, even when I was unsure of what was best.
It was the elders who accepted me as I was and promised to make me feel worthy, capable, and whole again. They showed me that what mattered was not my past, but my longing for love.
When I sought only love, I found love, status, and wealth following behind me.
I smiled, watching my love, my status, and my wealth, smiling at Princess Rudraja as she played nearby.
On the day he saved me, I had felt burdened. I had thought of myself as a bird rescued from hunters, only to be caged. But if this were a cage, I was willing to fly within it. For when there is love, even a cage feels like freedom; and without love, even freedom feels like a cage.
I was suddenly free, enlightened, and loved. Free from pain and suffering, and awakened to the truth that I loved him, his soul. And when you love a soul, its sins begin to fade.
After all, we are sinners in one way or another. What matters is the ability to forgive the sins that can be forgiven, without prolonging hatred toward the soul.
Because the soul is a droplet of the divine ocean, it can never be impure.
“Come on, let’s complete the remaining ritual,” Nandani’s voice drew my attention, and I smiled.
Along with the rest of the family, we were led to the guest room of our chamber, where a large bowl filled with milk and rose petals had been placed.
“You both need to sit facing each other,” Badi-maa instructed, and I did as I was told.
Kunwarsa suddenly chuckled and glanced at Princess Aishwarya.
“Do you remember this, Bhabhi-sa?” he asked.
She laughed, and Nandani joined in. I, too, recalled the same ritual from Princess Aishwarya’s wedding.
“So, you already know this,” Badi-maa said. “Agastya has witnessed it before, and Suman, you must have seen it during Aishwarya’s wedding as well. I will drop a ring into the bowl of milk. Whoever finds it first will have the upper hand in decision-making and over the other person.”
I gulped, staring at Kunwar-sa.
“Be careful, Suman,” Nandani warned. “He must not win.”
“Nandani,” Ranaji interjected, “you ruined Ranvijay’s post-marital rituals too with your foolish advice. Keep it to yourself.”
Kunwarsa laughed.
“Don’t worry, Bhai-sa. I won’t let her win. You’ve already surrendered yourself to Bhabhi-sa, and Ranvijay Bhai-sa lost everything to Aishwarya Bhabhi-sa as well. I won’t let men’s power go in vain.”
I knitted my brows.
“Excuse me,” Prince Ranvijay interrupted, “we lost nothing to our wives. You should worry about yourself instead. Suman, you don’t know what all he’s done to win your heart.”
Kunwar-sa’s eyes widened instantly, and he fell silent.
A look of confusion crossed my face.
“She knows,” he said, and everyone laughed.
“You two should begin,” Badi-maa instructed.
I looked at him. He was already staring at me with a wide smile playing on his lips. The moment Badi-maa dropped the ring into the bowl and stirred it, we both plunged our hands inside.
“Taaaaaattttttaaaaaaaaa!” Princess Rudraja squealed as she crawled forward.
We both smiled at her.
“No, papaya. I have to find the ring. You can’t help me with this,” Kunwar-sa said.
Just then, the curly-haired little boy toddled over and sat beside her.
“Anghoothi dhoondni hai?” “Want to find the ring?” he asked in his childish voice, making everyone laugh.
When he dipped his hand into the bowl, Princess Rudraja followed suit, but instead of helping, she began slapping the milk. Droplets splashed onto our faces, and Kunwar-sa clicked his tongue.
“Pumpkin!” he called out.
She let out a delighted giggle.
At the sight of her smile, his fleeting annoyance melted away, and he smiled back at her.
“We have to find the ring,” he said gently, showing her one from his other hand, trying to explain.