His to Hate.

Chapter - 15

Pankhuri had just helped me with offering Prasad of the food I had cooked when Daadisa asked her to leave me alone and join her in the dining room while I got everything out there.

The attendants helped carry the food. I walked ahead of them, telling myself not to trip, not to spill anything, not to collapse dramatically in front of everyone and give Daadisa a reason to say I told you so.

The dining hall was already full.

Rudra was sitting at the head of the table, his back so straight that I felt bad for it. Daadisa sat to his right. Yuvaan was next to her and Pankhuri was sitting opposite to him with Ishaan next to her. The others were here and there.

The attendants placed the dishes one by one and the smell of the food filled the room. For a moment, I let myself feel proud.

Then Daadisa raised her hand.

"Ruko."

Everything stopped.

She looked directly at me.

"Jo khana banata hai," she said, "woh pehle chakhta hai."

I stared at her and blinked. Sorry?

Before I could say anything or even form a proper thought, she continued, "Phir hi Ranaji ko parosa jaata hai."

My brain froze.

What in the name of Jodha Akbar was going on here?

Rudra spoke then, his voice steady. "Daadisa, yeh zaroori nahi hai."

She did not even turn her face towards him, just continued to look at me.

"Yeh hi niyam hai," she said simply. "aur yeh aap bhi nahi badal sakte Rudra."

She finally turned to him. "Yeh aapki zindagi aur suraksha se juda hai aur yahan kuch log aise bhi hain jinhone iss parivaar ko nuksaan pahuchaya hai."

So this was not just about his safety, this was also about reminding everyone who exactly I was and what my father had done to this family.

I clutched the side of my saree in my fist to calm myself down. I was not going to show any emotion here.

Not a chance.

I looked down at the food, then back at her. Then I served myself a plate with everything I had cooked.

"Khayiye," Daadisa said.

She watched me closely, as if she was really expecting me to drop dead after eating the food I had cooked myself. I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

She nodded once, satisfied.

"Ab parosiye," she said.

I stood up again, stepping away from the dining table and as I was about to pick up the bowl of Macaroni to serve Ishaan, I felt my world tilting on its axis and suddenly my feet totally forgot what their job actually is.

To help me keep standing.

"Oh no no no—" I muttered under my breath.

Before I could embarrass myself by actually falling flat on my face in front of the entire royal family, a pair of arms came around my waist.

The world stopped tilting.

I froze and so did the room.

Rudra was standing right behind me.

One second he had been sitting at the head of the table, looking every bit the calm, untouchable King.

The next, he was holding me upright, his arm secure around my waist, the other steadying my side like he had done this a hundred times before.

Which he absolutely had not.

My mind short-circuited.

His grip was not gentle, but it was not rough either.

I slowly lifted my eyes.

He was looking straight at me.

His gaze flicked to my face, then to the loose strand of hair that had escaped again and was now brushing against my cheek, then back to my eyes. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable, but there was something sharp there. Alert.

"Are you...." he started and my brain panicked.

"I swear there is nothing in the food." I announced to the entire dining hall.

Silence.

Absolute. Total. Horrified silence.

"I mean...." I rushed on, because stopping felt dangerous, "there is nothing extra in the food. Nothing weird. Nothing suspicious. Everything is very normal. Extremely normal."

His arms tightened slightly, probably because he thought I was about to faint again because of how idiotically I had said something so stupid.

"I am fine." I continued rapidly. "This was just dizziness. Standing too fast. Happens to people. Regular people, people with a little iron deficiency."

I turned my head just enough to look at him.

"I did not poison anyone." I clarified, just in case.

Someone gasped.

"I literally just ate the food myself," I added. "Dal. Roti. Sabzi. Multiple bites. I am alive. Breathing. See?"

I inhaled deeply to demonstrate.

Still no one spoke.

"I only used normal ingredients, I swear!" I kept going, because apparently this was my moment. "Salt, red chilli, turmeric, coriander, ghee. Standard things. Traditional things. Things everyone uses while cooking."

Rudra was staring at me like he was trying to decide whether to shake me or gag me.

"There is absolutely nothing in the food that is not supposed to be there." I said firmly, nodding to convince myself.

Then, because my mouth clearly hated me, I added cheerfully,

"Except for his halwa."

His brows twitched but it was so low that I don't think even he or anyone else heard it.

The second the words left my mouth, my soul quietly tried to exit my body.

Except for his halwa.

Why. Why would I say that.

I stared straight ahead, refusing to look at anyone, especially him. If I stayed very still, maybe the sentence would float away and pretend it never existed.

Rudra did not react.

Not outwardly.

He did not stiffen, did not speak, did not even blink in a noticeable way. His face remained carved out of the same calm stone it always was. If anything, that made it worse.

His arm was still around my waist.

I swallowed.

"I—" I tried again, softer now, "that was... um... a figure of speech."

Silence.

"Like... how people say except for the weather even when the weather is also normal."

No one nodded. No one understood. Ishaan looked confused. Pankhuri looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. Yuvaan stared very hard at his plate as if this was none of his business and never would be.

Daadisa narrowed her eyes.

Rudra finally spoke. "Enough."

He loosened his grip and moved his hands away, stepping back just enough to give me space. The sudden absence of his arms made me sway again for half a second, but this time I caught myself by gripping the edge of the table.

"Sit," he said, quieter now.

I did not argue.

An attendant immediately appeared with a glass of water and practically pressed it into my hand. I drank it in three gulps, more out of embarrassment than thirst.

Daadisa studied me for a long moment.

Finally, she looked away.

"Parosiye," she said to the attendants instead. "Sabko."

Serve everyone.

Relief loosened something tight in my chest.

The attendants immediately moved into action, lifting lids, picking up bowls, serving dal and sabzi with practised efficiency. I thought that was the end of it for me.

I was wrong.

I noticed Ishaan twisting around in his chair, craning his neck toward the macaroni like his life depended on it. The bowl was still sitting on the side table, untouched.

Without thinking too much, I stood up again and reached for it.

"I'll serve the kids," I said quickly, mostly so Daadisa would not change her mind again.

She gave a small nod, already turning her attention elsewhere.

I carried the bowl over and served Ishaan first. His entire face lit up like I had handed him treasure.

"Macaroni!" he announced proudly, as if no one else in the room could see it.

"Yes, macaroni," I said, smiling despite myself. "Eat slowly."

He nodded very seriously and immediately forgot the instruction.

I served the other children as well, smaller portions, less spice, exactly how Mumma used to do it.

Once the children were settled, I stepped back.

People began eating properly now. I heard muted praises of the food and fought back a smile.

Once everyone had eaten, I started to serve to halwa. My heart gave a small, traitorous thump, but my face stayed composed.

When I reached Rudra, I did not look at his face. I focused on the plate. On my hands. On the bowl I was holding.

Very casually, very carefully, I placed that bowl in front of him.

The bowl.

The one bowl.

The black-pepper-loaded, evil, self-care bowl.

I straightened, stepped back and went to stand by the side again.

My eyes remained fixed on my fingers and kept reminding myself,

Do not look up. Do not smile. Do not laugh.

From the corner of my vision, I saw him pick up his spoon.

I stayed very still.

A second passed.

Then another.

Rudra lifted the spoon again and I held my breath without meaning to as he took a bite.

That's when I heard it. A very small sound, barely there and saw his jaw tighten. It was like he was clenching his teeth for just half a second. I stared very hard at the floor, but the sight of it sent a ridiculous rush of satisfaction through me.

I pressed my lips together.

Do not smile. Do not smile. You will die if you smile.

But the smile came anyway.

It was small at first, just a twitch at the corner of my mouth. Then it spread before I could stop it, warm and traitorous and entirely evil. Yikes, I didn't know I had it in me!

I quickly dropped my gaze to my hands, pretending to adjust my bangles. My shoulders shook once, very slightly, as I swallowed a laugh.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him take another bite.

And then another.

I blinked.

Wait, why was still eating it!?

I looked up again and his eyes found me immediately.

I frowned a little, confused now. Surely this was the part where he stopped. Where he looked up sharply and demanded to know what I had done. Where Daadisa called my name in that tone that meant I was in serious trouble.

But nothing happened but he kept eating it.

I stared at him now, openly baffled.

Why was he doing this?

If it were me, I would have stopped after the first bite. Second at most. I would have made a face. I would have complained and then I would have talked his ear off had he done this with me, telling him how evil this was.

His eyes never left mine, not even when his jaw tightened again.

Not even when he swallowed a little harder than before.

Not even when the corner of his left eye shone faintly again, like it was threatening to betray him.

I stood there, completely frozen, staring back at him like an idiot.

Why was he still eating it?

Why was he not stopping?

Why was he looking at me like this was some silent conversation I had unknowingly agreed to be part of?

He took another spoonful deliberately, as if he was just taunting me now at this point.

I felt my earlier triumph melt into something dangerously close to panic.

This was not how this was supposed to go.

My fingers curled into the fabric of my saree again. I tried to look away, really tried, but my eyes kept flicking back to him on their own.

His jaw ticked again.

There it was. Clear this time.

I swallowed.

Okay, he definitely felt it.

So then why.....

He lifted the spoon again.

I actually shook my head once, very slightly, without realising it.

Stop eating it, you idiot, my brain screamed at him. You're not proving anything.

He paused mid-air for half a second, as if he had heard the thought.

Then he ate it anyway.

My stomach dropped.

This was no longer funny. This was unsettling. And weirdly intense. And making my chest feel tight in a way I did not appreciate at all.

Yeh aap kya kar rahe hain Ranaji, aur Kyun?

Around us, the dining hall carried on like nothing strange was happening. Someone asked for a second serving and Ishaan was still eating his Macaroni, accidentally dropping some of it and laughing about it.

I saw him blink slowly, once, as if forcing control back into his eyes.

Only when his bowl was empty, he stopped, leaned back slightly in his chair, still calm, still composed, and wiped his fingers with the napkin like this was just another meal.

He did not look at me again.

Not even once. My heart was still beating too fast.

What had just happened?

Why did I feel like I had lost something when I had been so sure I would win?

Once the meal ended, people began to leave the dining hall. Chairs moved back. Attendants stepped in to clear plates. Ishaan ran ahead, dragging Pankhuri with him, still talking excitedly about the macaroni. Yuvaan left with a polite nod.

Rudra stood up last.

He adjusted his cufflinks, nodded once to Daadisa, and walked out without a backward glance.

I stayed behind under the excuse of helping the attendants. I did not trust myself to walk properly just yet. My head was still buzzing, my thoughts tangled.

By the time the hall was mostly empty, I slipped out quietly, carrying my plate with me, pretending I still needed to eat.

I found him in the corridor outside the dining hall, near the tall arched windows that looked out into the courtyard. He was standing there alone, hands clasped behind his back, staring outside like he owned not just the palace but the horizon beyond it.

I hesitated for a second.

Then I walked up to him.

"Why did you keep eating it?" I asked.

The words came out before I could soften them. Before I could rethink them.

He did not turn immediately.

For a moment, I thought he might ignore me altogether.

Then he spoke.

"Because I am not a child," he said calmly, still looking outside, "to throw a tantrum over food."

That was it.

That was his explanation.

I stared at him, waiting for more. For some hint of discomfort. Some crack. Some sign that the pepper had actually affected him the way I had seen.

But his voice was flat. Dismissive. Almost bored.

"You could have stopped," I said before I could stop myself. "Anyone would have stopped."

He finally turned his head then, just enough to look at me from the side.

"I chose not to." he replied.

The way he said it made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world.

"You did not have to prove anything," I said, my voice lower now. "No one was watching."

"You were." he said.

That shut me up.

He turned fully towards me now, his expression unreadable again, eyes steady and sharp like they always were.

"Apna khaana kha lijiye," he said, glancing at the plate in my hands. "kal se kuch nahi khaya hai aapne."

The abrupt observation threw me off balance.

"What?" I asked.

"You have been standing since morning," he continued, already turning away. "And you look like you might fall again."

I bristled immediately. "I am fine."

He gave a short, humourless exhale that could have been a laugh in another universe.

"How old are you?" he asked suddenly.

The question startled me. "Twenty five."

He stopped.

Turned back slowly.

"Are you certain?" he asked, his tone cool but his eyes cutting. "Because usually children enjoy doing things like what you did."

It took me a second to understand.

Then my face burned.

"This was not...." I started.

"A prank," he finished calmly. "Yes. It was."

I opened my mouth to argue. To say something sharp. To defend myself.

But nothing came out.

He looked at me for another second, long and measuring, then turned away completely.

And walked off.

Just like that.

Leaving me standing there, plate in my hands, cheeks burning, heart pounding, my small victory reduced to something childish and insignificant.

I stood there long after he disappeared down the corridor.

Angry.

Embarrassed.

And deeply, deeply unsettled.

My fingers tightened around the edge of the plate until my knuckles hurt.

Child.

Prank.

He had said it so easily. Like it was a fact and I laughed for some reason.

Great, Parthvi. Well done. You really showed him.

Except I hadn't.

I had planned that moment so carefully in my head. His reaction. His anger. His sharp words. Maybe even trouble. At least that would have meant something.

Instead, he had eaten it.

All of it.

And then dismissed me like I was an inconvenience.

Worse, like I was silly.

I swallowed hard and finally moved, walking down the corridor without really knowing where I was going.

Why did it bother me so much?

It was just food. Just a stupid bowl of halwa. Just black pepper.

I stopped near a window and set the plate down on the ledge, suddenly not trusting myself to hold it anymore. My hands were shaking now. Actually shaking.

"Get it together," I muttered to myself.

But my body clearly hadn't received the memo.

I leaned forward, resting my palms against the stone sill, breathing slowly until the tightness eased just a little.

I had wanted to feel powerful.

Instead, I felt small.

Not weak.

Small.

And I hated that more than anything.

After a few minutes, I straightened and wiped my hands on my saree, annoyed at myself for needing the pause at all. I left the plate there and walked back to the room, my pace faster now, like I was trying to outrun the feeling sitting in my chest.

Once inside, I shut the door and leaned back against it.

My head fell back with a dull thud.

"Twenty-five," I whispered, mocking myself. "Very mature Parthvi."

Fine.

If he thought I was childish, let him.

I turned away from the window, kicked my slippers off with more force than necessary, and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

My heart was still beating too fast.

And annoyingly, deeply, uncomfortably...

I couldn't stop seeing his eyes on me as he ate that halwa.

Well, this failed. I failed spectacularly this time.

Stupid girl.