Suman
I walked out of the library. His words built strange knots in my stomach. The hair on my arms stood straight in shock, and suddenly, I felt my hand being held by a warm, rough, and mighty hand.
He pulled me back into the library. My eyes widened in shock, my breath faltered, and my heartbeats raced.
“ Don ’ t do it ever again,” he said, shaking his head. His gaze was intense and angry, raising the temperature between us.
I bit the inside of my lips in fear, struggling to ask a question.
“ What?” I stuttered, dragging my hand from his deadly grip and stepping back as my eyes betrayed my mind, fixating on his neck. A thick mole, slightly to the right of the center of his neck, held my sight.
He pulled me back. I quickly looked away, bumping my shoulder into his warm, bare chest.
Butterflies erupted in my stomach, and his words, coated in a deep and low voice, “ That I am sending another attendee,” twisted my gut.
I blinked nervously. The words hung in my throat as I tried to say. “ I did not mean—“
“ Do act smart,” he cut me off. His voice had never affected me like this.
"I am sorry," I quickly replied. My voice came out shaky.
I tried to step away from him, but he held my wrist again—gentler this time. The bangles tingled in my wrists as he took his fingers back. I lifted my gaze, staring into his eyes and attentively at my hand.
My throat ran dry. I felt his palm curl around my forearm and glide until it reached my elbow.
A shiver ran through my body when I felt him slip his finger into the hem of my blouse ’ s sleeve. "Wh...what are you doing?" I fumbled, stepping away, but he hushed me down. “ Shhhhh,”
A wave of fright rushed through my body, and I stood frozen under his light grip. As he pulled the half-sleeve of my blouse up to the quarter, he gently brushed his thumb along my arm—slowly yet captivatingly.
“ I met a priest, and he suggested I…” he said, taking a few steps away before returning to me with a black thread.
I gulped nervously when he encircled the thread around my left arm thrice while saying. “ It will help you with the nightmares and fears.”
I shook my head. “ I don ’ t believe any of this.”
He gazed into my eyes, scanning me to the folds of my former existence, and tied it securely so it would never come off. "You do not believe in God?" He intoned, and I shook my head.
"Why?" He questioned.
“ Because he did nothing great in my life for which he could take credit for,” I replied, and he smirked at the end.
“ You ’ re standing here alive in before me. Do you think that happened without God ’ s help?” he asked, and I shook my head.
No.
If he wanted me alive, he wouldn ’ t have let me go there in the first place.
After a long pause of silence, I asked, “ If you believe in God, why are you afraid to give love another chance?” He lifted his intense gaze and stared sharply into my eyes.
It stripped me bare, leaving me weak in the knees.
But there was a magnetic force that kept me comfortable in his presence, and I couldn ’ t stop gazing back at those dark green eyes. His eyebrows were mediocrely thick, his lashes were long. I could feel our breathing shallow.
"You might know that love is not a bed of roses," He drawled, his gaze lowering at my lips. It made me feel even weaker. Attracted. Maybe.
“ Only adjusting you around the waist is certainly not love. So I wouldn ’ t know,” I murmured, feeling his grip tighten around my arm and his expression harden.
“ Then you shouldn ’ t speak of it,” he spat, and I lowered my gaze to his lips, moving as words flowed out in his deep voice. The voice, a source of both madness and safety in my nightmares, had preserved me amidst the surrounding inferno. The voice that now spun my world around a different axis.
Hi voice.
“ I ’ m just trying to shift your perspective. I can ’ t say for certain, but marriage can be a nightmare without love… I ’ m speaking from experience,” I tried to express, my voice trembling.
A half-smile lingered on his face.
“ So, a second chance, huh?” he asked, and I felt intimidated by his words. Though, I nodded. Unconsciously.
“ And what if it happens again?” he asked in a low voice, knitting his brows. His thumb kept brushing the knot on my arm, gently and slowly.
“ Why would it happen again? You ’ re getting married to her; you two will be together,” I said. My chest tightened when I mentioned the word ‘ married. ’
He smiled slightly, leaving my arm, nodding. I clenched my fists.
I quickly looked away, when he leaned in closer to whisper in my ear, “ Someone is acting like a good wife. Are you…falling for me?” His words sank deep into my ear, stirring my dormant senses and creating an intense sensation before I abruptly stepped back from him.
“ No! I am just…saying,” I exclaimed, lowering the sleeve of my blouse before walking out of the library.
“ Prove it,” he said, following me out of the library, and I turned, looking at me.
"What?" I asked.
“ That you are not falling for me? You don ’ t care about me,” he said, walking past me to sit on the couch, where his dinner awaited him.
“ I am not,” I stated.
“ Ugh, I really don ’ t want to eat all this. I don ’ t even like these,” he said, looking at the food.
My eyes widened, and I shook my head in disbelief. Seriously, I stayed up this late to see his tantrums?
“ I brought everything you like. There are no beans, no pickles. It has jaggery, raw onion, and everything you enjoy,” I pointed out, glancing at the plate again.
“ See, I ’ ve caught you. You know everything I like.” he smiled at me, and I immediately stepped back, not believing him.
“ Well… ah, that ’ s because I ’ ve been taking care of you and your family for quite some time now,” I blurt, and he smirked, looking at me.
“ Not at midnights, half-wife.”
My body froze. What the hell did he say? The words hung in my throat.
I immediately rolled up my sleeves and said, “ You brought me this, so should I take it as a sign that you ’ re falling for me, too?”
He looked at my arm before looking back at me.
“ Keep it covered, okay? It will help.” His voice suddenly became concerned, and I dragged the sleeve down, saying, “ I should go.”
This didn ’ t feel right.
I turned to walk away, but he called. “ Suno,” “ Hey.”
I looked back at him.
“ Stay,” he said, and I inhaled deeply, shaking my head slowly. “ Someone will get suspicious,” I intoned.
“ Wow, wisdom came, albeit late,” he mocked, and I sighed in frustration.
“ Come on,” he said, and I couldn ’ t explain why my feet moved toward him as he gestured for me to sit on the couch opposite him.
"I cannot," I said, gulping nervously, shaking my head, and fisting on the couch ’ s top.
He insisted, gesturing for me to sit. Again.
I bit my lower lip, clenched my hands on my skirt, and walked around before sitting on the couch. He leaned forward to tear off a tiny piece of chapatti and began eating after putting it in the corner.
“ Can I ask you something?” I asked softly, and he nodded.
“ What does ‘ dinner not dinner ’ mean?” I murmured, and he half-smirked while pointing at the food with his index finger. “ Dinner,” he said, then lifted his finger toward me and repeated slowly, “ Dinner. ”
I immediately stood up from the couch; my heart raced like a horse. “ Are you…” Mad? The words hung in my throat.
Smiling, he said, “ As I said, I ’ m not in the mood today. You can calm down. “
I shook my head mentally, not believing it. How could he say that? He was to be married in less than six months. And what was I doing here?
He asked, catching my attention, “ Are you okay?”
The silence followed. His change of tone reminded me of his teasing nature.
He was just teasing me.
I nodded. “ Yes, it ’ s just the memory that won ’ t fade away,” I said, and he nodded in understanding.
“ Try putting your brain somewhere else,” he suggested, taking another bite. I bit my lower lip, unsure of where to put it. “ Like what?” I asked, and he smirked a little.
“ Like being… dinner ,” he teased again, and I sighed while rolling my eyes. I couldn ’ t believe it. How could he talk like that?
I shot him a glare. “ I feel pity for your wife.”
He cocked his left brow at me. “ Really?” while taking another bite, and I nodded.
“ Yes, no girl would ever want her husband flirting with another woman. She would be devastated to find out. You need to be loyal to her,” I tried to explain, and he looked at me, responding while taking a deep breath. “ Says the one who is becoming a hurdle in that cause?”
I furrowed my brows, not understanding him, and asked. “ What do you mean?”
He pushed the plate away, and I could sense he had gotten angry as he replied. “ If you keep coming here, talking to me, and thinking about me, I won ’ t be loyal to her. Not at all. We have to forget that, and you can ’ t keep coming here,” he said, more like an order, leaving my mouth open.
“ You asked me to stay,” I reminded him.
“ Ah, th-that ’ s because you wanted it,” he spat back.
I inhaled sharply. “ And since when did a royal prince care about the wants of a maid?” I raised my voice.
He stood up and walked towards me quickly. Before I could process it, he took the knife out of the sheath and placed it on my neck. My eyes widened with shock. My back pressed against the couch as he cornered me against it, putting his foot on either side of my feet. I felt weak in my knees, leaning back, longing for distance, and terrified to my core.
“ Don ’ t make me do amends in my good deeds, half-wife,” he said with tight jaw and low voice, bringing tears of fear into my eyes.
“ Do not call me that.” Yet, I stood firm on my ground. He couldn ’ t call me that.
His eyes softened, and his gaze followed the tear rolling down my cheek. He lowered his knife from my neck and said slowly, shaking his head, “ Please… leave.” His words chilled me as if the ocean wave had hit me hard. Freezing me.
I stepped back with a promise to myself and turned my head away from him. I ’ m never going to see him again.
I left his chamber, wiping the tear from my cheek. Why did I go to him? I should have seen it coming. He was the prince, and I was just the maid. I was becoming a problem in his marriage. What was wrong with me? I ran to my room and wrapped myself in comforters.
4
This couldn ’ t happen.
The past she had suffered and survived couldn ’ t become her future.
Putting the knife back in the sheath, I stared blankly at the cold food. She knew so much about me.
Her words told me a different story, but her gaze…it wasn ’ t lying.
And whenever I find her staring at me with wide, innocent, and heavy eyes, I feel burdened by the layers of responsibility—that now were becoming more than just protection.
A part of me felt responsible for her happiness as well. At one moment, I sensed her eyes searching for a man more than a savior in me, but at another, she seamlessly reminded me of my sins.
I sat, holding my face in my palms. I shouldn ’ t have put the knife on her neck either way. My anger heightened her fear.
But I couldn ’ t stop myself when she clearly wanted to stay with me, hear me, and watch me, and then brought up how I ’ m cheating on my fiancée.
No.
This shouldn ’ t happen, and this won ’ t happen.
I had to stay away from her. Otherwise, I wouldn ’ t do anything to my enemies or maintain my promises to myself.
Stay Away From Women.
It had been three days since we last talked, and things had heated. I couldn ’ t shake off the flashes of her face. The tearful gaze, the shaky breaths, the sound of her heartbeats—it all added up to my growing insanity.
And the more I tried to avoid her, the closer I was drawn to her.
“ Ji, Bhaisa, you called for me?” I asked, standing before Rudra Bhaisa. He lifted his gaze from a list.
I immediately plastered a smile on my face. I needed to forget about caring, worrying, and thinking about her.
“ Yes, Agastya, I spoke with Badi Maasa, Daadisa, and Ranima, and they suggested we have the baby shower. Even the royal priest believes holding it in two days is ideal. So, I want you to take care of the responsibilities. I ’ ll send out the invitations, and you can handle the decorations, menu, and hosting preparations,” he explained, and a broad smile spread across my face.
“ Celebration?” I asked, kneeling before him, and he nodded.
“ Celebration!”
I loved celebrations, so I immediately jumped over him for a hug. He leaned back and patted my back.
“ By the way, what happened in Mehrangarh?” he asked, nuzzling me away.
I gulped, shaking my head. “ Nothing. It seems…normal,” I lied, sitting beside him as I grabbed grapes from the basket.
“ Strange. Are you sure?” he asked, and I nodded, meeting his gaze.
“ Also, Mehrangarh seems pretty foolish.” I chuckled, and he slapped my back. “ You ’ re a prince now. Act accordingly, both in front of others and behind the scenes,” he scolded, only making me smile wider.
I loved Rudra and Ranvijay Bhaisa ’ s care for me.
“ Ranaji.” Suddenly, her voice caught my attention, and I looked up, noticing her bringing a plate with a few attendees.
My smile faded as she knelt by the table, plating lunch.
“ Have you eaten yet?” Bhaisa asked, and I shook my head, gazing at him.
“ , make one for Agastya as well,” he instructed. She replied, “ Ji, Ranaji.”
“ I…don ’ t want to, Bhaisa. Actually…” I cleared my throat. “ I need to work on something,” I said, trying to avoid looking at her.
A strange ache built in my chest as I watched her.
Bhaisa stopped me and said, “ No, eat first.”
I gulped, unknowingly being pulled by her presence. Faded marks and two bangles razed her wrist. She didn ’ t look at me.
“ And how is Rashmika?” Bhaisa ’ s voice broke my thoughts.
I briefly closed my eyes and replied, “ She ’ s good,” while looking at him.
“ I heard you didn ’ t spend Gangaur with her,” he said, and I smiled, shaking my head. “ I wanted to, I really did, but I couldn ’ t return from the temple on time.” It was a half-truth.
“ Oh! Why don ’ t you invite her to Nandani ’ s baby shower? That way, you ’ ll spend more time together. Because, no matter what, she will be your wife,” he said, staring into my eyes. His words held authority.
“ Of course, my wife,” I laughed abruptly, looking away from him.
placed a diced onion and a bowl of jaggery on my plate. My heart sank. A thousand people inhabited the Kingdom, and nobody knew what I liked to eat.
“ Thank you,” I muttered, pulling it closer to me. Rudra Bhaisa began speaking.
She left without responding.
I couldn ’ t eat a single bite, knowing I could do something for her, and I wasn ’ t doing it.
I wanted to see her smile, if not much, then at least how she used to do before that incident. It wasn ’ t like I had seen her, but I had noticed.
After having a few bites, I took leave from Rudra Bhaisa and returned to my chamber.
I was happy about the celebration, but a celebration only meant hectic days for her.
Our life as the royals was easy; we could command, but she had to work with her hands, listen to, and be answerable for certain things.
I understood it was her job, but she was mine now.
No!
She wasn ’ t.
Still, why was I feeling strange and bothered by her presence and absence if she wasn ’ t?
For the entire day, I focused solely on decorations and the upcoming event in the Kingdom. After finishing with the Kingdom ’ s exterior, halls, galleries, and gardens, I finally arrived at Rudra Bhaisa and Nandani Bhabhisa ’ s chamber.
I wasn ’ t eager to go in. I knew that if I did, I would end up confronting her. Yet, I had no choice.
I couldn ’ t ignore Bhaisa ’ s words.
Only a day remained before the baby shower, and close relatives, especially Nandani Bhabhisa ’ s family, had already arrived. When I reached their chamber, I saw everyone seated in the meeting area with Nandani Bhabhisa. I smiled before greeting them.
“ Pranam, Daadisa.” I first greeted Bhabhisa ’ s grandmother, followed by her mother, Trisha, and Abhinandan. I couldn ’ t forget their warm hospitality when I first met them during Holi after Rudra Bhaisa and Nandani Bhabhisa ’ s wedding.
“ How are your wedding preparations going, Agastya?” Daadisa asked as she pulled me down to sit beside her.
I inhaled sharply, struggling to come up with a response. “ Great! Awesome!” I chuckled.
“ I heard you visited your in-laws to celebrate Ganguar with your fiancée. How romantic!” Daadisa remarked.
I nervously shook my head as I noticed bringing in the juice and snacks. She set the plate in front of Daadisa, smiled, and squatted to touch her feet.
“ Pranam, Daadisa. How are you?” she asked warmly, her gaze never meeting mine. I noticed a pale glow with a mole on her right cheek as the sun ’ s rays illuminated her face.
“ God bless you. I am young, slim, and beautiful,” Daadisa said, caressing ’ s head.
Everyone laughed.
I couldn ’ t.
Her lips didn ’ t form a smile either. Was something bothering her?
“ I ’ ve heard you ’ re taking great care of Nandani, . I hope she isn ’ t too much trouble,” Daadisa laughed.
shook her head and smiled. “ Not at all, Daadisa,” she replied before getting up to greet others.
I turned away from her, attempting to exchange smiles with Abhinandan, who returned the gesture while sitting across from me with Nandani Bhabhisa.
Meanwhile, Trisha and Nandani Bhabhisa were engaged in conversation.
walked away to stand in the corner with the other attendees. Her gaze was lowered, her face expressionless, creating a knot in my stomach.
“ Ugh.” I looked at Daadisa and then at everyone else. “ I have to go. I need to finish some work. I ’ ll catch up with you all later,” I said, rising to excuse myself.
Bhabhisa stared at me in disbelief. As I was leaving, I noticed Aishwarya Bhabhisa and Ranvijay Bhaisa entering.
“ What happened?” Ranvijay Bhaisa stopped me.
“ Nothing. I just need to take care of the decorations. I ’ ll continue later,” I explained, and he smiled.
“ Alright,”
I spent the entire evening decorating Bhaisa and Bhabhisa ’ s chamber. I didn ’ t do it alone; I managed everything—the flower selection, the curtains, the colors—all of it.
It looked beautiful. I felt happy and on cloud nine, but one face ’ s smile suddenly became crucial to me.
I wanted to ask her if something was wrong, but I couldn ’ t. Hope was the last thing I could offer her, especially after seeing how drained she seemed.
After finishing the garden and the sitting area where the main event would take place, I walked back to meet Rudra Bhaisa and Bhabhisa before heading to my chamber.
The next day, I woke up early to begin working on the entrance. I called for the helpers and started before anyone else woke up. I couldn ’ t sleep at all the night before.
My gaze fell on her as she worked nearby. She carried a plate of colors, and my brows knit in confusion, wondering what she would do with them.
She didn ’ t notice me standing in the corner as she walked past. She seemed lost. Her face looked tired, with dark circles under her eyes, and her weakness was evident.
“ Here, this is for the Rangoli,” she said, handing the plate to another attendee.
“ But why? You make the best Rangoli. Why aren ’ t you making it?” the attendee asked her, to which she smiled and shook her head.
“ I am…busy with other things,” she replied.
“ What ’ s more important than making the Rangoli?” the attendee countered.
“ I need to work in the kitchen before Nandani wakes up,” she explained, and my brows knitted in confusion.
“ Kunwarsa, where should we hang these red curtains?” a helper caught my attention, and I inhaled deeply, pointing to the top of the gallery. “ There, how many times should I tell you?”
I noticed her walk past me, glancing at me briefly. I immediately followed her.
“ Suno,” “ Hey,” I called, but she continued walking, ignoring me.
My eyes widened at her audacity.
“ Hey,” I called again, quickening my pace, and she responded by walking even faster. I noticed a few attendees watching us. My jaw tightened.
“ Hey,” I shouted again, almost marching a foot behind her, before she turned right and headed to the kitchen.
Noticing the deserted corner, I quickly positioned myself in front of her and looked into her eyes. “ Why are you running from me?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
“ Why are you running after me?” she countered, inhaling deeply, a sign of her displeasure at my interruption.
“ Why did you deny making the Rangoli?” I pressed, and she shook her head, attempting to walk past me as she replied, “ Because I don ’ t want to.”
My brows knitted together. “ Why?” I inquired, spreading my arms before her and gazing into her eyes.
“ I have other important things to do,” she stated, batting her eyelashes.
“ What ’ s more important than making the Rangoli? I ’ ve heard you create the best. Why aren ’ t you making one for the baby ’ s shower?” I asked, and she gulped.
The glow of her face faded as she tried to move past me again. I couldn ’ t help but grip her wrist and pull her back in front of me.
Her eyes widened in shock, her hand gripping mine, her gaze fierce with anger. “ Kunwarsa,” she breathed in a low voice, warning me.
“ This is an important day. Make the Rangoli,” I said, almost pleadingly, my voice lowered.
“ I can ’ t,” she replied immediately.
“ Why?”
“ I have other things to do.”
“ You don ’ t love Bhabhisa and the baby?” I asked, stepping back when she looked uncomfortable.
Her eyes filled with tears. “ I do love them, but I have other things to do,” she insisted, and I found it hard to believe her.
“ You can do those later. Just imagine how happy Bhabhisa will be to see the Rangoli made by you,” I said, and she shook her head.
“ Please,” a tear rolled down her cheek, and noticing an attendee approaching, she quickly turned and dashed into the kitchen.
What was wrong?
She didn ’ t seem herself.
5
Taking my inauspicious presence near Nandani was the last thing I wanted today. It was time for the baby shower, and everyone had gathered while I kept myself busy in the kitchen.
“ ,” an attendee ’ s voice caught my attention, and I looked up from the curry I was stirring.
“ Ranisa is asking for you,” she informed, and I smiled, nodding.
“ I will be there in a moment,” I lied. She walked away.
I couldn ’ t go closer to her. It was against the rituals, and although I didn ’ t believe in any of the myths, I couldn ’ t risk the baby, Nandani, or this family.
Sometimes, the celebration would end, and then I would mention my absence.
I kneeled before the stone grinder and added red chilies, salt, and garlic cloves. Daadisa loved red garlic chutney, so it seemed the best way to keep me occupied.
I took off my bangles in case they broke before I started.
“ ,” another attendee ’ s voice caught my attention.
“ Daadisa and Ranima are asking for you in the celebration.” She laughed, “ It ’ s really fun there. Everyone ’ s dancing.”
Smiling and nodding, I said, “ I ’ ll be there soon. I ’ m preparing something special for Daadisa.” Then she walked away.
When the next attendee called me, I quickly finished my business in the kitchen and stepped outside to find a better hiding place.
As White adjusted the dupatta on my head, I noticed some chutney on my bright yellow outfit. It was an old, faded piece. I sighed, trying to rub it off while walking through the gallery.
Suddenly, an arm held mine and dragged me to the corner. My eyes widened, but the touch immediately reminded me of him, intensified by the scent of mild jasmine and spice.
“ What are you doing?” I asked as he pressed me against the wall. I glanced away from his green eyes and angled my shoulder against his chest when he tried to come closer and hide us behind the curtain.
“ It ’ s been so long; everyone ’ s asking you to come to the celebration. What are you doing?” he asked in a low voice.
I gulped nervously, lowering my gaze.
Why did he care?
“ I ’ m busy,” I replied softly, trying to walk away. His sudden appearance sent chills down my spine.
“ What are you wearing?” he asked after a moment ’ s pause. His voice was now calm and concerned.
“ Clothes,” I replied, subconsciously pushing him away while consciously melting in his presence.
“ Is something wrong? Why are you acting like this? Everyone was fine until the celebration. You can take part in activities but didn ’ t make the Rangoli, didn ’ t come to the celebration…dance?” His last word made me lift my gaze.
“ Hey,” he breathed, gently touching my chin with his fingertip to make me look at him.
When my eyes locked onto his, a thunderous jolt surged down my spine. His brows knitted together, hair cascading over his sweaty forehead, nose sharp, and lips curling into a nervous twitch.
“ What is wrong?” he asked, his voice low and calm.
“ Nothing,” I retorted, pulling my chin back. He moved closer, causing me to retreat, and my left shoulder bumped against the wall.
“ Then come with me to the celebration,” he said, holding my wrist and pulling me. I fisted my hand, standing my ground and shaking my head.
“ I can ’ t.”
He inhaled sharply as I withdrew my wrist from his grip. A tear rolled down my cheek as I cast my gaze downward. “ Why?” he asked, leaning closer to my ear, his voice low.
My breathing shallowed, and my heart raced, feeling his presence so close: authoritative, comforting, yet uncomfortable.
“ I just can ’ t,” I tried to say. I didn ’ t understand why he couldn ’ t see my situation. It wasn ’ t the same as before. I knew people weren ’ t aware that I was a widow, but I was aware of it. And I couldn ’ t overlook it.
“ You ’ re hurting my Bhabhisa,” he said, and I gazed into his eyes.
“ No, I can never hurt her,” my voice broke, feeling a lump in my throat and my knees weak.
“ Then you must have been with her,” he said, pulling me out again as he held my hand.
“ Kunwarsa.” I shook my head. “ Please, try to understand.”
“ Make me understand,” his voice was deep and menacing.
“ I am a widow,” the words slipped out unfiltered.
“ What?” he asked. The noise of attendees running and laughing caught my attention. I looked away from him, trying to walk away.
But he held my hand and said, “ Come with me.”
My eyes widened in shock, and I stood rigid, pulling my wrist from his grip. “ Kunwarsa, please let go of my hand. What are you doing?”
“ Kunwarsa,” I whispered, yelling. “ What are you doing? And why do you even care? I can ’ t go there. It is an auspicious occasion for Nandani. I can ’ t ruin it,” I said, and he looked back at me and stepped forward, making me stumble back and hit the pillar behind the curtains.
“ I don ’ t believe in all this. It ’ s important for Bhabhisa that you stay there; you have to,” he said, lifting his finger at me, and I inhaled deeply.
“ I can ’ t,” I repeated, staring back into his eyes.
He declared, “ I ’ m serious; you have no option.”
“ Yes, I don ’ t have a choice. My life is different now. And why do you even care?” I raised my voice slightly.
He stepped forward quickly, and I shifted onto my toes, feeling his chest nearer to mine. My heart raced in my throat. The anger in his eyes was evident, even though he was trying to conceal it it.
“ It doesn ’ t matter. You didn ’ t live with him, he didn ’ t care for you, and when the hearts weren ’ t one, how could a few rituals bind you together?” he asked, breathing over my face.
“ No!” I blurt out, trying to calm myself. “ It can bind us because I did marry him, and I am his widow,” I said, blinking nervously and pressing my hand against his chest to keep him away. It wasn ’ t right. He shouldn ’ t have been here.
His presence was making me weak. And, strangely, my own words were slipping me into doubts.
“ No,” he breathed, bringing his palm closer to my cheek. I turned my face away. The memories of the last time we got this close, when he tied the holy thread around my arm, still lingered in my mind.
And then, how he sent me away.
It was all a joke to him. I was a joke to everyone.
“ Hey,” he called out, his voice dropping low, and before he could touch me, I pushed him away and walked past.
I noticed him following me as I paced faster through the busy gallery. A few attendees walked past me carrying the plates of flower petals, powered red color, and dancer ’ s anklet bells.
“ , where are you going?” Reva asked, stopping before me. I glanced back at him, who approached closer and took the powered red color plate from Reva ’ s hand.
“ Get another one,” he ordered, and my eyes widened in disbelief. “ Ji, Kunwarsa.” She silently walked away, and oddly, I felt something dangerous was crossing his mind.
I immediately turned to walk as fast as I could. But he gripped my hand and pulled me to the side, behind the curtains. Intensely gazing into my eyes, he asked, “ You were saying something?”, making my heart race. His words were provocative.
I gulped, staring back into his eyes, and pulled myself back.
“ What are you doing? Kunwarsa,” my breath hitched as he stepped closer, forcing me to take a step back, pressing my back against the wall.
He placed the plate in the corner of the flower stand and brought his hand closer to my cheek. I shook my head, stopping him. Tears welled in my eyes, not because of his actions, but because he was so close that I might end up doing something we both would regret.
“ You can ’ t touch me,” I reminded him, glancing away and lowering my gaze, almost pressing my cheek against the wall.
“ Why exactly?” he asked, leaning in closer, his face only a few inches away. I could feel his warm breath on my face. The anger was clear in his tone.
“ You know, exactly, why? What are you doing?” I questioned in my breaking voice, and he sucked in a deep breath.
“ Bhabhisa and everyone are waiting for you. I understand you have a war happening in your mind, but whatever you think—”
I cut him off. “ It ’ s not what I think. My reality is different, and I can ’ t be with—”
“ Why?” he asked, gulping.
I gazed up shakily into his eyes. “ I am a…” My words hung in my throat as I slowly drowned into the intense, wild waves of the green ocean that surrounded me, swallowed me, and added a layer of hope. No!
“ I am a widow,” I finished. Hope was the last thing I should have, or lives would be burnt.
“ Seriously?” he asked, his gaze dropping to my lips.
I reminded him, “ I should stay away from celebrations, colors, pregnant women, and marital rituals—”
He cut me off. “ Happiness,”
I gulped, feeling weak in my knees. His intense gaze warmed my cheeks. “ Happiness,” my voice came out shaky.
His gaze fell to my bare feet before returning to my eyes. I blinked nervously, and my entire body shivered when his elbow bolted the plate of colors. It slammed to the ground with a metallic clang, splattering colors across my face, shoulders, arms, and clothes. I shut my eyes in fear.
“ Oh, I ’ m sorry!” he exclaimed, prompting me to open my eyes and notice a few splatters on his jaw and a broad smile. “ I ’ ll clean it!” He chuckled, hurrying his palm closer to my cheek, but I instantly pushed him away, letting a tear roll down my cheek, and walked away.
He was playing with me.
But before I could go far, he held my hand, stopping me. His grip glided from my wrist to my hand, smudging the red between our palms.
I looked back at him. His gaze softened as he said. “ I will be responsible if anything happens to anyone in your presence.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I struggled to pull my hand from his. “ I can ’ t take risks with anyone ’ s life,” I replied slowly.
He gulped, tightening his hold on my hand, and pulled me closer to him. I almost jumped, crashing into his chest. “ Nothing happened to me.”
“ Should I wait for something to happen to you?” I asked, letting another tear fall. He was making it hard for me. I wanted him to go, but I also wanted him to stay.
“ What will happen to me?” he asked.
I inhaled sharply, shaking my head. “ Anything can happen to you. Didn ’ t you hear, the man who married…” I halted, my tongue unable to roll out the following words. I couldn ’ t even imagine anything happening to him.
“ What?” he asked. I didn ’ t know why he wanted to hear things from my mouth; I didn ’ t want to say.
“ I am inauspicious now,” I made it simpler.
A smile lingered on his face. “ If I touch you, will something bad happen to me?” he asked. I stood frozen under his intense gaze. My brows furrowed as he placed his palm on my cheek, his long fingers gliding down to my ears, almost reaching my neck, with his thumb gently brushing over my cheekbone.
“ Nothing happened,” he stated after a brief silence.
My heart raced. His cologne wrapped around me, and his words spun my world.
What was I doing?
No!
No. This was wrong.
What was he doing here? He shouldn ’ t be here.
I immediately pushed him away. Overwhelming tears streamed down my face as I noticed the red color on his fingers. He couldn ’ t do this to me.
I couldn ’ t do this to him.
He stood, shocked, as waves of reality visibly washed over his face. I shook my head before running away to my room.
When I reached the quarters, I immediately raced to the bathing area. It was empty, as all the attendees were busy celebrating. Stepping down the stairs to the shared pool, I kneeled on the last step and leaned forward to wash my hand.
But as soon as I looked at my reflection in the water, my heart stopped. The red imprints of his fingers weren ’ t just a mistake but a gesture of my belonging to him.
I looked at my palms, smudged with red powder. I immediately turned around to notice the imprints of my red feet on the wet stairs.
Tears welled in my eyes.
No.
He couldn ’ t do this to me.
Why was he making me familiar with the color forbidden for me? Why wasn ’ t he scared of my fate ruining his life? And, most importantly, why was he interested in me this way?
“ ,” an attendee ’ s voice caught my attention, and I turned around to look at her.
“ Yes,” I asked, wiping away my tears.
“ Ranisa is asking for you,” she said, and I smiled, nodding.
He promised me that nothing would happen. Although I didn ’ t believe in superstitions, I still couldn ’ t risk the lives of people I wholeheartedly loved.
But, the red color imprinted on my cheeks, forearms, palms, and feet were not only his ideology, but more like his confidence in my fate, and order to me.
So, I trusted both my fate and his trust in it.
I went to the celebration and enjoyed it to the fullest. Nandani was happiest watching Daadisa and Princess Aishwarya dance for her.