Chapter Three #2
She was nothing here. Expected to do nothing, be nothing, exist as a pretty trophy on a shelf.
And Nisha made sure she never forgot it.
It was the end of the second week when things finally came to a head.
Advika was in the main living room, curled up with a book she wasn't really reading, when Nisha swept in with Mihika in tow. The two women were laughing about something, their voices carrying that particular pitch of female camaraderie that made it clear Advika wasn't part of the joke.
"Oh," Nisha said, feigning surprise at finding her there. "I didn't realize anyone was using this room."
"It's a living room," Advika replied without looking up from her book. "It's meant to be lived in."
"Yes, well, Mihika and I need to discuss some things. Private things." Nisha settled onto the sofa across from Advika, Mihika curling up beside her like a cat. "You understand."
The dismissal was clear. Advika was supposed to leave.
She didn't move.
"I'm comfortable here, thanks," Advika said, turning a page. "Feel free to use another room. The house has twenty of them."
Nisha's eyes flashed. "This is my family's home. I'll use whatever room I like."
"And I'm family now too, remember? By marriage if not by choice." Advika finally looked up, meeting Nisha's glare steadily. "So I'll use whatever room I like as well."
Mihika leaned forward, her expression calculating. "You know, Advika, you should really learn to be more... accommodating. Nisha's been part of this family her whole life. You've been here, what, two weeks?"
"Twelve days," Advika corrected. "But who's counting?"
"The point is," Mihika continued, her hand settling on Nisha's arm in a gesture of solidarity, "there's a hierarchy here. An order to things. And right now, you're at the bottom."
The words stung because they were true. Advika had no allies here, no power, no place.
But she'd be damned if she'd let them see it hurt.
"Fascinating," Advika said, closing her book. "And where does that put you, Mihika? You're not even family. You're just... Nisha's friend who hangs around hoping to catch the attention of a man who's never looked at you twice."
Mihika's face went white, then red. Nisha shot to her feet.
"How dare you," Nisha hissed. "Mihika is more family than you'll ever be."
"Really? Because I have a marriage certificate that says otherwise.
" Advika stood as well, tired of playing nice, tired of being pushed around.
"Look, I didn't ask to be here. I didn't want this marriage any more than your brother did.
But I'm here now, and I'm not going to spend the rest of my life being treated like I'm something you stepped in. "
"Then maybe you should have thought about that before you came from a family of—"
"Careful," Advika warned, her voice dropping. "You don't want to finish that sentence."
The door opened, and Rishabh walked in, stopping short at the obvious tension in the room. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," Nisha said quickly, but her eyes remained locked on Advika. "We were just having a discussion about boundaries."
"Looked more like World War Three from where I'm standing." Rishabh's gaze moved between them, assessing. "Maybe everyone should cool off."
"Good idea," Advika said, grabbing her book. "I'll leave you to your 'private' discussion."
She walked out, her head high, refusing to let them see how much her hands were shaking.
The next few days, Nisha escalated.
Little digs at meals. "Accidentally" bumping into Advika in hallways. Loud conversations with Mihika about how wonderful the house had been before the "outsider" arrived.
But it was the tea incident that finally broke Advika's patience.
It was afternoon, and Advika had been in the library—her favorite room in the house, full of books and quiet—when Nisha entered with Mihika and two other society women Advika had met briefly at the wedding.
"Ladies," Nisha was saying, "this is the east wing library. Sidharth's collection is quite extensive. Some of these books are first editions, worth more than—oh." She stopped, as if just noticing Advika curled up in the window seat. "You're here."
"I'm allowed to read," Advika said dryly.
"Of course you are." Nisha's smile was poisonous. "Actually, since you're here, would you mind bringing us some tea? The kitchen is just down the hall. Darjeeling for me, Earl Grey for Mihika, and—"
"I'm not the help," Advika interrupted, her voice flat.
"Oh, I know!" Nisha's laugh was light, practiced. "I just thought, since you're not busy... I mean, it's not like you have anything else to do, right? No job, no responsibilities. I figured you'd want to make yourself useful."
The other women exchanged uncomfortable glances. Mihika smirked.
"Get your own tea," Advika said, returning her attention to her book.
"Excuse me?" Nisha's voice went sharp.
"I said, get your own tea. I'm not your servant."
"No, you're my brother's wife. Which means you're part of this family. And in this family, we help each other."
"Really?" Advika set her book down, her patience finally snapping. "Because from where I'm sitting, 'helping each other' seems to go one direction. You want help, ask the actual staff. That's what they're paid for."
"The staff is busy," Nisha said through gritted teeth. "And you're sitting right here doing nothing."
"Reading isn't nothing."
"It is when there are guests who need refreshments."
Advika stood, her hands clenched into fists. Every day of being dismissed, ignored, treated like she didn't matter—it all came rushing up.
"Fine," she said. "I'll get your tea."
Nisha's smile was triumphant. "Thank you. That's very—"
"On one condition," Advika continued. "You ask me nicely. Actually, no—you say please. And you acknowledge that I'm doing you a favor, not fulfilling some duty as your unpaid servant."
The room went silent. The two society women looked like they wished they could disappear. Mihika's eyes were wide.
Nisha's face flushed. "You're being ridiculous."
"Am I? Or am I just tired of being treated like I'm less than human in my own home?"
"This isn't your home," Nisha spat. "This is the Singhania Estate. My home. Where I grew up. Where I belong. You're just... temporary. A piece on a chessboard that will be discarded when you're no longer useful."
Something in Advika cracked. The last fragile thread of composure she'd been clinging to.
"You know what? I'm done." She grabbed her book and walked toward the door. "Enjoy your tea party. I'm sure the staff will be happy to serve you."
"Don't you dare walk away from me," Nisha called after her. "I'm not finished—"
"But I am." Advika stopped at the door, looking back. "I'm finished being your punching bag. Finished pretending this is normal. Finished smiling while you treat me like garbage. You want to hate me because I'm a Pradhan? Fine. Hate me. But I won't make it easy for you anymore."
She left, her heart pounding, adrenaline coursing through her veins.
It felt good. Terrifying, but good.
For about ten minutes.
Then Sidharth came home.
Advika was in the bedroom when she heard his footsteps in the hallway. Heavy. Purposeful. Angry.
The door opened, and Sidharth walked in, his expression thunderous. He was still in his suit from work, his tie loosened, but there was nothing relaxed about his posture.
"What," he said, his voice dangerously quiet, "did you say to my sister?"
Advika stood from where she'd been sitting on the bed. "She told you her version already, I'm guessing."
"I'm asking for yours."
"She ordered me to serve her tea in front of her friends. Like I was the hired help. When I refused, she made it clear I don't belong here and never will." Advika lifted her chin. "So I left. Apparently, that's a crime."
"You embarrassed her."
"She embarrassed herself."
Sidharth's jaw tightened. "She's my sister. You will not disrespect her under this roof."
The words hit like a physical blow. After everything—after twelve days of being ignored, dismissed, treated like a ghost—this was where he drew the line?
"Disrespect her?" Advika's voice rose. "She's been disrespecting me since the moment I arrived! Snide comments, dismissive looks, treating me like I'm something she scraped off her shoe. But that's fine, right? Because she's your sister and I'm just... what? The inconvenient wife?"
"She's family."
"So am I!" The words tore out of her. "Or did you forget? We're married, Sidharth. That makes me family too. But you wouldn't know it from how I'm treated in this house."
"You've been here two weeks—"
"Twelve days. And every single one has been hell. Your sister hates me. The staff doesn't know what to do with me. And you—" Her voice cracked. "You act like I don't exist. So forgive me if I finally snapped when Nisha tried to treat me like a servant in my own home!"
"This isn't your home," Sidharth said, echoing his sister's words. "This is the Singhania Estate. It's been in my family for generations. You're here because of a treaty, not because—"
"Not because you want me here. I know." Advika felt tears burning but refused to let them fall. "Trust me, I know exactly how unwanted I am. You don't have to keep reminding me."
Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, maybe, or regret—but it vanished quickly.
"Nisha is difficult," he said, his tone slightly less harsh. "She doesn't trust easily. Our parents' deaths left scars."
"And I'm sorry for that. Truly. But her pain doesn't give her the right to abuse me. And your loyalty to her doesn't mean I have to accept being treated like garbage."
"What do you want me to do?" The question sounded torn from him, like he genuinely didn't know.
"Defend me," Advika said simply. "Just once. Tell your sister she can't talk to me like that. Tell her I'm your wife and she needs to at least pretend to respect me. Is that really too much to ask?"
Sidharth ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You don't understand the dynamics here—"
"Then explain them to me! Talk to me like I'm a person instead of a problem to be managed!"
The words hung between them, raw and desperate.
For a long moment, they just stared at each other. Advika saw the war in his eyes—duty versus... something. She didn't know what. Didn't know if he was even capable of seeing her as anything other than a Pradhan spy.
"I'll talk to Nisha," he finally said. "But you need to be more... tactful."
It wasn't the defense she'd wanted. It wasn't the support she'd needed. But it was something.
"Fine," Advika said, exhaustion washing over her. "I'll be tactful. Right up until the moment she orders me around like hired help again."
"Advika—"
"No." She held up a hand. "You want me to be tactful with your sister? Then you need to keep her in line. Because I'm not going to keep my mouth shut when she spews venom. Next time she orders me to get her tea like I'm her paid maid, I'll throw it on her face. And I'm not kidding."
Sidharth's eyes widened slightly. For a second, she thought she saw the ghost of something that might have been respect.
"That would be a mistake," he said.
"Living here is a mistake," Advika shot back.
"But I'm stuck with it. Just like you're stuck with me.
So we can either find a way to coexist that doesn't involve me being the family punching bag, or.
.." She trailed off, because what was the alternative?
There wasn't one. "Or nothing. There is no 'or. ' I'm trapped here."
The word hung in the air. Trapped.
Sidharth's expression shifted into something unreadable. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he just nodded once and walked toward the bathroom.
"I have work to finish," he said before disappearing inside. "I'll be late."
Of course he would.
Advika sank onto the bed, her earlier bravado crumbling. She'd stood up for herself, finally, but it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like she'd just made her already impossible situation worse.
She was alone in a house full of people. Married to a man who couldn't stand to be in the same room as her. Trapped in a life she'd never wanted.
And there was no escape.
Later that night, long after Sidharth had finished in the bathroom and settled into his side of the bed with the pillow wall firmly in place, Advika lay awake staring at the ceiling.
She could hear him breathing in the darkness. Steady. Even. So close and yet impossibly far away.
"I miss my bakery," she whispered into the dark, not expecting a response.
For a long moment, there was only silence.
Then, so quiet she almost missed it: "I know."
Two words. But they were the most he'd said to her that wasn't a command or a reprimand.
It should have made her feel better.
It only made the loneliness worse.
Because knowing he understood and still did nothing about it was somehow crueler than if he simply didn't care at all.
Advika closed her eyes and wished for sleep that wouldn't come. This was her life now. A gilded cage. Beautiful, expensive, and slowly suffocating her.