Chapter - 11
I was sitting on the floor with my back pressed against the couch, my shoulders slowly sliding lower every few minutes because the cushion was clearly not meant to support two fully grown people using it like this.
Jai bhaiya was beside me, sitting in almost the same position, one leg stretched out and the other bent, the pizza box open between us.
We were watching India vs. England.
A big bowl of popcorn was resting near my knee, and every time Jai bhaiya moved even a little, I was scared it would spill.
"Eat fast," he said, not looking away from the screen. "Before Mumma comes and ruins everything."
"I am eating!" I replied, shoving another bite of pizza into my mouth. "You're the one talking too much."
On the screen, the bowler ran in. The batsman swung. The ball went flying.
We both shouted at the same time, jumping slightly even though we were sitting.
"That's a six!" Jai bhaiya yelled.
"I told you he would hit it." I said proudly, wiping my hand on a napkin.
That was when Mumma's voice came from the other room, loud and very clear.
"Parthvi. Jai. Start getting ready. We have to leave for the wedding soon."
Neither of us reacted.
I slowly leaned forward, picked up the remote, and increased the volume of the TV.
The commentators became even louder.
Jai bhaiya glanced at me from the corner of his eye and smirked but then Mumma appeared in front of us with her arms crossed, watching us in silence.
Before I could say anything, she leaned forward and smacked the back of Jai bhaiya's head.
"Are you both deaf?" she snapped.
"Ow, Mumma!" he protested, finally turning to look at her. "Why do you always hit me like that?"
She didn't answer him. Instead, she turned to me and smacked my head too.
"And you," she said, "don't act innocent. I know exactly what you were doing with the remote."
"We're not coming," Jai bhaiya said immediately. "You and Papa go. We'll stay back and watch the match."
"Yes," I added quickly. "Someone has to protect the house."
Mumma let out a tired sigh and shook her head.
"You both are impossible! No one will come to both of your weddings if you don't go." she muttered and walked toward the bedroom.
"How is that supposed to be a bad thing!?" I asked, baffled. Bhaiya just shrugged, taking a handful of popcorn and stuffing it into his mouth.
As she passed the door, she raised her voice again. "And drag your father away from the TV. He's not going to move on his own."
Papa was sitting on the chair of the dining table, fully dressed, eyes glued to screen like us and we were not cruel enough to snatch the joy of watching cricket away from a person so mumma herself grabbed his arm and tried to pull him up.
"Come on." she said. "We are already late."
"Just one more over," Papa said, not even looking at her. "The match is at a good point."
"That's what your children said too." Mumma replied sharply. "And look where they are."
Jai bhaiya stretched his arms and slid even lower against the couch, his back almost flat now.
"Best decision ever." he said happily.
"Obviously, it was my idea." I replied, picking up another slice of pizza.
We were almost lying on the floor now, our backs barely supported, legs stretched out in weird angles.
After a few minutes, Jai bhaiya spoke again.
"Turn on the AC."
I looked around. The remote was on the table, too far away.
"I'm not getting up." I said. "You do it."
"No chance." he replied. "You are closer."
I stared at the remote for a second, then lifted my leg and stretched it out carefully. Using my toe, I pressed the power button.
The AC beeped and turned on.
Jai bhaiya stared at me like I had done something magical. "You have serious talent."
Before I could enjoy the moment, Mumma appeared at the door again.
She walked straight toward me and smacked my head once more.
"Use your hands like a normal person," she scolded. "One day this laziness will get you both killed."
Papa laughed quietly. "Relax."
Mumma gave him a look that shut him up instantly.
They left. The match continued and the pizza box slowly emptied.
Everything felt easy. Comfortable. Normal.
And then, I opened my eyes.
The ceiling above me was decorated and unfamiliar. Too high and too quiet.
There was no TV noise. No laughter. No smell of pizza.
Just silence. I was lying on the bed in the palace in what was supposed to be my room.
The dream faded slowly, leaving behind a dull ache in my heart. I stared at the ceiling for a long moment, blinking, trying to breathe normally.
That life felt very far away now. How was my family? Were they okay?
I turned my face toward the window where the morning light was coming in and stayed there quietly, holding onto the memory for just a little longer before letting it go.
Eventually, I forced myself to get up. I took a bath slowly, letting the warm water run over me longer than necessary.
It helped a little. When I came back into the room, I sat at the edge of the bed, drying my hair with my towel and that is when I heard two little feet stomping towards me since the door was already open.
I looked up just as Ishaan appeared at the door, his hair messy, his cheeks round and his eyes wide with curiosity. He stopped a few steps inside the room, like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to come in or not.
He looked at me. Then at the towel in my hands. Then at my wet hair.
"Your hair look like they are a nest from my colouring book." he announced seriously.
I blinked and I could not help myself from laughing.
"A little," I said. "I just took a bath."
He considered this information carefully, nodding once like he understood something very important. Then he walked closer, his small feet making soft sounds on the floor.
"Why is your hair like that?" he asked, pointing at the towel.
"So it can dry." I replied.
He frowned. "My mamma uses a machine."
"I know," I said. "This is the slow version."
He seemed impressed by that.
He climbed onto the edge of the bed without asking and sat there, his legs not even reaching the floor and watched me rub my hair with full focus.
"You live here?" he asked suddenly.
I paused for half a second. "For now."
He nodded again. "I live here forever."
"That sounds long," I said.
He smiled proudly. "I'm three."
"That explains it." I replied.
He laughed. A full, open laugh that didn't hold back at all. It caught me off guard and I found myself laughing again.
He leaned closer and touched the end of my towel with one finger. "It's soft."
"So are you!" I said before I could stop myself.
He looked pleased with that. Very pleased.
"Are you sad?" he asked next, like it was the most normal question in the world.
I froze for a moment.
"I'm not sad." I lied to him gently.
He accepted that answer easily. "Okay."
Then he slid off the bed and stood in front of me. He raised his arms suddenly.
I stared at him. "What?"
"Pick me," he said.
I hesitated. "Ishaan, I don't think...."
"Pick me." he demanded, more firmly this time.
I laughed under my breath and put the towel aside. Carefully, I lifted him up and settled him on my lap. He was lighter than I expected and he leaned against me immediately.
"You hair smell nice." he said.
"Your hair smell nice too." I replied, ruffling them.
"My mamma says I smell like a baby." he said, scrunching up his nose like it was a bad thing.
"That is the best smell."
He sat quietly for a few seconds, playing with the edge of my sleeve.
Then, very seriously, he said, "You can stay."
I looked at him. "Stay where?"
"Here," he said, spreading his hands around the room. "So you won't be sad."
Something in my throat tightened again.
"That's very nice of you." I said.
He nodded, satisfied with himself.
Just then, there was a soft knock on the door.
Ishaan turned immediately. "Mamma."
The door opened and Pankhuri stepped inside. She stopped when she saw Ishaan sitting on my lap.
"I see you made a friend." she said.
He grinned. "She's very nice."
I smiled up at her. "He decided that very quickly."
Pankhuri smiled too, relief flickering across her face.
"Come, Ishaan." she said gently. "Let her finish drying her hair."
He sighed dramatically but climbed down.
Before leaving, he turned back to me. "I'll come again."
"I'll be here." I said.
He nodded once more and left with his mother and my chest felt tighter again because right now, all I wanted was to run home and give mumma a very tight hug and then hide behind papa from all the monsters in my head and around me and then lock myself and Jai bhaiya in the room and re-watch that IPL 2023 final, all at the same time.
I missed home, I missed them.
It had been close to one month now since I had seen them, heard them.
I took a deep breath and stood up. I finished drying my hair slowly, braiding it loosely because I didn't have the energy to do anything else. Then I walked to the window and looked outside. The palace grounds looked the same as always. Big. Calm. Unbothered.
I was still standing there when there was another knock on the door.
This one was slower.
"Come in." I said.
Pankhuri stepped inside alone this time and closed the door behind her.
"I hope Ishaan didn't trouble you." she said.
"No," I replied immediately. "He was nice. Very nice."
She smiled at that, but it didn't fully reach her eyes.
She walked a little closer and sat on the chair near the bed. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then she folded her hands together.
"I wanted to talk to you." she said carefully.
I nodded. "Okay."
She took a breath. "You should know... everyone in the palace knows who you are."
I didn't react. I already knew that.
"And the kingdom knows too." she continued. "People are talking. There are discussions everywhere."
I kept my eyes on the floor.
"The wedding preparations have started," she said next. "It will take place next week."
Next week.
The words landed somewhere inside me, but nothing really moved. No shock. No panic. Just a dull heaviness.
"I see," I said quietly.
She looked at me closely. "You don't have to say anything right now."
"There is nothing to say," I replied. "This was decided long before I came here."
She nodded slowly. "I know. But I wanted you to hear it from me, not from whispers."
"Thank you," I said. And I meant it.
She stood up after that. "If you need anything... you can ask."
I gave her a small smile. "I will."
After she left, I sat back on the bed and stared at the wall. My head felt empty but maybe that was better than feeling too much.
By the time afternoon came, my stomach reminded me that I hadn't eaten anything all morning because all my appetite was gone that time. A maid knocked and brought a tray of lunch. She placed it on the table carefully.
Before leaving, she hesitated.
"Ranaji asked me to tell you that you are free to go to the gardens whenever you wish." she said.
I looked up at her. "The gardens?"
"Yes," she replied. "Any time."
I nodded. "Alright. Thank you."
When she left, I looked at the food but didn't touch it right away. My thoughts were still somewhere else. At home. With Mumma. With Papa. With Jai bhaiya shouting at the TV.
Next week.
I picked up my spoon finally and started eating, slowly, telling myself the same thing again and again.
No matter what happened next, my family would be safe and that was enough.
I finished reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by evening and then left my room to find the garden from last week because I was convinced that it would take me at least half an hour to just find it.
I took three staircases down and then walked towards the left when a flower pot kept near one of the thousand pillars drew my attention.
It reminded me of something from home. Mumma's balcony. A plant she refused to throw away even though it barely bloomed.
I slowed down.
Then I turned my head to look back for just a second, checking if I was allowed to walk that far in.
And I walked straight into someone.
Hard.
My forehead hit a solid chest and I stumbled back with a sharp gasp.
"Ouch."
The word slipped out before I could stop it. I stumbled back a step, my balance off for a second, my hand flying up to my forehead on instinct.
A pair of hands caught my arms before I could stumble and I slowly lifted my head. Rudra was standing right in front of me.
Too close.
His hands were still on my arms as he looked down at me and that is when I realised how tall he really was.
I did not even come up till his shoulders!
He let go immediately, stepping back. I took one step back too, putting more space between us.
"I was going to the garden." I added, not sure why I felt the need to explain.
He nodded once.
"Right." I said to nothing and no one in particular and turned slightly, intending to walk past him.
"Parthvi." he said.
I stopped and turned back slowly, my hands curling into loose fists at my sides.
"Yes?"
He looked at me for a long second.
"You should not be wandering like this." he said finally, his voice calm but firm.
Does he have dementia? He literally just nodded when I told him that I was going to the garden!
I frowned slightly. "But I was told that you have allowed me to go to the gardens. That's why I came out of that room on my own today."
"I did allow you," he said. "but that was not the point."
"Then what is? I'm not doing anything wrong," I replied. "I stayed in my room all day. I ate when food was brought. I spoke to people only when they spoke to me first. I read a book. I wanted some air." I asked, my voice calm even though my chest felt tight.
"That is exactly it." he said. "You treat this like it is a pause in your life instead of your life now."
I shook my head. "I don't."
"You do." he said firmly. "You remember your home, your family, your life before this and you hold onto them like this is something you will wake up from."
The words hit closer than I expected.
"I'm allowed to miss my family." I said quietly.
"Yes." he replied. "You are. But you are not allowed to forget why you are here."
WHAT THE FUCK WAS THE DEAL WITH THIS MAN? WAS HE BIPOLAR?
I stared at him, genuinely trying to understand what he wanted from me and failing miserably.
I took a slow breath. "I haven't forgotten why I'm here," I said. "I'm reminded of it every single minute. By the walls. By the people. By the way everyone looks at me like I might break something just by standing there."
"That is still not enough." he replied.
I let out a small, humourless laugh before I could stop myself. "Then what exactly is enough for you? Should I sit in my room all day and stare at the wall so you feel better about this arrangement?"
His jaw tightened.
"You should remember that this place is not a refuge for you," he said. "It is a consequence."
"There it is." I said.
"So the other about you not wanting to destroy my life was just bullshit. You did not really mean those words Ranaji, did you?" I spat the words out, my heart burning with hatred.
The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I had crossed a line.
Not because I was wrong, but because I had finally stopped being careful.
His eyes darkened, not with anger that flared and burned, but with something colder.
"You should be very careful about how you speak to me." he said.
I lifted my chin slightly. My heart was pounding, but I refused to let my voice shake.
"I am being careful," I replied. "I have been careful since the day I stepped into this palace. Careful with my words. Careful with my steps. Careful with my breathing. But I'm tired of pretending I don't hear what you're really saying."
"And what do you think that I am really saying?" he asked, taking one step closer to me.
I took one back.
"That I'm not allowed to live." I said. "Only exist."
His jaw clenched.
"You are allowed to live," he said. "Just not comfortably."
"That is a very convenient line." I said quietly. "It lets you sleep at night."
"You think I sleep?" he shot back.
I blinked.
"For you, this is loss," he continued. "For me, it is memory. It follows me everywhere. Every room. Every corner of this palace. My mother's blood did not disappear with time."
I didn't answer him immediately, not because I didn't have anything to say but because I suddenly had too much.
I looked at the floor between us. The stone was smooth, polished and clean. It did not show stains. It never would.
"I know you didn't forget her." I said quietly. "I can see that."
He didn't move.
"But you look at me like I chose to be that reminder for you." I continued. "Like I woke up one day and decided this would be my role."
"You are the reminder, Miss Sharma." he said. "Choice has nothing to do with it."
That stung more than anger would have.
"You are cruel, you just choose not to believe that.
I know what my father did to your family and I know that I will always be here now, in front of all your family and you and you all will always keep reminding me that I am the daughter of a criminal and honestly, I am okay with that as long as I know that my family is safe out there Ranaji but what I will not do ever is believe you and your words.
" I announced, looking at him in the eye.
Not one expression changed on his face.
"I did not get out of that room because I was trying to defy you.
I got out because you allowed it. I know my boundaries very well around here but I will not stand here and pretend to be grateful to you for letting me breathe because I would rather die of suffocation than letting you believe that I want this stupid, stupid life. " I continued.
He exhaled once, sharp and controlled, like he was holding back an entire storm behind his ribs.
"You speak of wanting to die very easily, Miss Sharma," he said. "But you forget something important." His voice dropped, "If you fall, your family falls with you. "
My breath caught, but I forced myself to keep standing straight.
He went on, still calm,"Do not talk to me about suffocation. Your father is alive because the law allows it and because you have obeyed it till now."
The words punched the air out of my lungs.
I hated him more than anything I had ever hated in my life, including leather pants.
Gosh Parthvi, not now!!!
"I am going back to the room before you accuse me of existing without your permission ." I added, because if I stayed even a second longer, I knew my tears would betray me.
I turned around before they could fall.
My footsteps were steady but my throat burned.
The door to the room closed behind me, and only then did I let out the breath I had been holding.
Next week.
The words echoed again.
And the room felt smaller than it had ever felt before.