The Royal Silence

1. Bestfriends

Age 22

It was supposed to be a normal night.

Few drinks, loud music, and Samarth being his usual late, dramatic idiot. But here I was standing alone in this overly expensive club, holding a glass of drink, waiting for my so-called best friend.

And instead…

I had her.

The girl. The one with eyes that looked at me like she’d already mentally married me, divorced me, and was now suing me for alimony.

She kept staring like I am dessert, dinner, and damn breakfast combined. I cleared my throat, awkwardly shifting on my feet.

Okay, Yugant… relax… I told myself. She’s probably just And then she started walking toward me.

fuck.

I panicked, straightened my shirt, looked around like the club security might rescue me from being eye-fucked alive. But nope it was just me and Miss Predatory Gaze 2025.

“Hey…” she purred, her voice sugary enough to give me diabetes, trailing her fingers along my arm like she owned it.

I stiffened.

My brain short-circuited.

Where was Samarth when I needed to be rescued from public harassment?!

She got closer, hand dangerously brushing against my chest, lower… lower…

Oh hell no.

I stepped back, trying to maintain distance like a virgin sacrifice being dragged to doom.

“My friend’s coming,” I blurted, raising my glass as a fake defense shield.

She giggled the type of giggle that says I’ve already decided your fate, sweet boy.

“Relax, handsome,” she whispered, cornering me against the bar. “You look scared.”

I AM scared.

Terrified, actually.

Was this how girls felt? Violated by eye contact alone? God, karma was real.

Just as she reached for me againlike I was her goddamn property “Am I interrupting your love story, Raizaada?” Samarth’s voice.

I swear I’ve never been happier to hear that idiot speak in my life.

I turned, relief flooding my system as I saw him standing there stupidly late, annoyingly perfect with that jawline that made girls trip over themselves.

The girl literally shifted targets mid-hunt.

Her eyes left me and glued to him.

And just like that I was forgotten. Discarded.

She smiled wider, swaying her hips toward Samarth like he was the main prize.

Traitorous female.

I leaned in close to Samarth, muttering under my breath, “You’re fking late, Rathore. I almost lost my fking virtue.”

He snorted, clapping a hand on my shoulder, smug as ever. “You? Losing your virtue? Bro, you’ve been single since birth, even fate’s not that cruel.”

I elbowed him hard.

The girl was still there, practically drooling over him now.

“Remind me why we’re friends,” I hissed.

“Because I’m the better-looking one, and your only hope to survive female attention,” he grinned.

I rolled my eyes, already regretting tonight.

the woman correction, full-grown predator slid her eyes to Samarth, practically licking him alive.

Samarth, the overconfident gym junkie Rathore himself, suddenly froze like a deer in headlights as she cornered him.

“Hey handsome…” she purred, eyes traveling down his body like she had an X-ray scanner built into her pupils.

Samarth backed up so fast he nearly tripped straight into me. This six-foot-tall gym rat literally used me as a shield.

I smirked, whispering, “Big man scared of aunty?”

He glared. “Bro… her eyes undressed me thrice already… abort.”

Before I could process his idiocy, the woman’s voice dropped lower silk mixed with pure danger. “I like you,” she told Samarth, then turned to me, smirking wider. “But I like him too…”

She stepped closer, gaze darting between both of us, full of sinful promise. “Why not both?” she whispered, fingers trailing up Samarth’s arm, then mine. “Tell me… your price for tonight.”

I swear my soul left the building.

Samarth choked on his own breath, panicking. “You first!” he hissed in my ear, pushing me slightly forward like a traitor.

I shot him a death glare, elbowed him back toward her. “No, no… premium abs package here — worth at least 50k an hour,” I deadpanned.

He shoved me harder, his face pale with terror. “You’ve got CEO biceps… sell yourself, Raizaada!”

Meanwhile, the woman practically purred, eyes gleaming like she’d already paid. “Name your amount, boys… I can afford both,” she teased, voice dripping with wickedness.

Samarth leaned in, whispering so only I could hear, pure panic in his tone: “Bro, what if she’s got a dungeon? What if she… cuffs us?”

I snorted, trying not to laugh, whispering back: “Bro, you’re the one with abs, you’ll suffer more —sacrifice accepted.”

We both awkwardly turned to her, plastering the fakest, most uncomfortable smiles ever. Samarth blurted, “Five lakh for him, ten for me — final price.”

I choked on air.

“TRAITOR!” I mouthed at him.

The woman grinned wider, leaning impossibly closer. “Oh, both of you? That’s a deal I’d pay triple for.”

Her hand grazed lower… trailing places she shouldn’t have been near.

Samarth and I panicked in unison.

“Fuck, fuckk, she’s touching my soul...”

“She’s buying us in EMIs, we need to run”

Before she could utter another filthy word, we bolted pushing past dancers, guards, escaping like two scared chickens from a burning coop.

Outside the Club

We gasped for air, leaning against my car.

“Bro, you sell me to her I nearly lost my innocence,” He accused.

I shoved him, eyes wide. “You nearly SOLD me for five lakh that’s half my worth!”

We bickered like idiots, still recovering from near public humiliation.

Then, Samarth mimicked her voice, dramatically twirling his hand: “Name your price for tonight…”

I doubled over, wheezing with laughter “Her eyes were calculating EMIs on your six-pack!”

We laughed till our ribs hurt, pushing each other, traumatized for life.

After nearly getting auctioned off in that club, we weren’t risking round two.

We bought some drinks, grabbed snacks, and headed straight to our flat safer, quieter, predator-free.

The moment we entered, we kicked off our shoes, Socks flew. Door slammed. Freedom.

Samarth went to grab the glasses from the kitchen, doing his typical neat-freak routine.

But me?

Patience was overrated.

I grabbed the whiskey bottle, unscrewed the cap, and attached it straight to my lips. The liquid burned sharp, bitter, stinking of bad choices. But God… it was good.

“Bastard!” Samarth’s voice yelled from behind.

Before I could lower the bottle, he marched over and slapped the back of my head hard enough to rattle my brain cells.

“You don’t have patience, do you?” he groaned, snatching the bottle from my hands.“You practically kissed the damn bottle now I gotta drink your jhoothi whiskey? Gross, bro.”

I leaned back against the couch, smirking lazily.

“Oh come on, Samarth… don’t act shy. You’ve always wanted to taste me indirectly.”

His face blanked. Processing.

Then pure horror. “Yugant… I swear—”

But I wasn’t done. I slid closer, grin widening. “Just think of it as an intimate exchange… one bottle, two hearts… one soul.”

He looked seconds away from jumping out the window. “Bro, stop flirting with me I’m straight, your charm won’t work.”

I chuckled, snatching the bottle back, winking.

“Never say never, Rathore.”

Before he could react, I grabbed his shirt, tugged him close like I was proposing — then shoved the bottle to his lips.

“Here. drink my jhoothi drink proudly.”

He spluttered, tried to protest, but I tilted the bottle, whiskey pouring straight into his mouth.

Coughing, glaring, he finally shoved me off.

“You’re insane.”

I sat back, victorious. “And yet… you still drink my germs. Soulmates, confirmed.”

He shook his head, wiping his lips dramatically, muttering, “I need new friends.”

But he was already laughing.

And so was I….…

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It was another one of those mornings but not the normal, stupid, hangover mornings. This one… sucked.

Samarth was packing his stuff, stuffing clothes into that dumb black duffle like he was just going on a short trip but we both knew, it wasn’t.

I sat on the bed, watching him, my mood completely off. But hell if I’d show him that.

“Is it really that important to go?” I asked, voice low, keeping my expression neutral.

He paused, folding a shirt, eyes dropping for a second. Then he nodded serious, calm, in that typical ‘Rathore has decided’ way.

“I can’t stop, Yugant. You know this.”

Yeah… I knew. But knowing didn’t make it suck less.

I exhaled, ruffling my hair, trying to mask the tight feeling in my chest. Then, like always I defaulted to teasing.

“Well… just don’t forget me when you go there,” I smirked, tossing a pillow at him. “Rajasthan girls are dangerous. You’ll probably meet some pretty Rajasthani kudi and lose your mind.”

Samarth rolled his eyes, zipping his bag. “Shut up.”

But I wasn’t done.

“What’s her name again?” I teased, leaning forward, eyes narrowing playfully. “The one you talk on video call… with bright smile? ”

His jaw tightened and yeah, there it was. That faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Bro… you’re blushing.” I pointed, laughing. “Full-on Bollywood hero vibes… Rathore gone soft for a mystery girl.”

He shook his head muttering, “Yugant, I swear.”

I cut him off, dramatic hand to my heart. “My best friend’s leaving me for love… I feel betrayed.”

“Shut up,” he groaned, laughing now, throwing a rolled-up pair of socks at me.

I caught it, grinning. “You better call me. Every damn day. Or I’ll personally fly to Rajasthan and drag your ass back.”

He smiled, that serious look softening just a little.

“Yeah… I will.” We both knew life was about to change.

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Age : 25

The city lights blurred as I drove down the empty Mumbai highway, the engine humming low beneath me. Music played faintly in the background, but my mind was already miles away exhausted after endless meetings, deals, and paperwork.

My phone buzzed on the seat beside me.

Samarth.

I grabbed it, sliding my thumb across the screen, already smiling.

“Finally remembered me, Rathore?” I answered, teasing.

His chuckle came through, familiar and grounding.“Shut up, Raizaada.”

“Where’ve you been? Ghosted me for yearsdon’t tell me Rajasthan kidnapped you permanently.”

He paused for a second, voice softer. “I’m in Mumbai.”

The smile spread wider across my face.

“Back in the city? Bastard, you could’ve told me sooner, I’d have arranged a red carpet.”

But something in his tone felt… off.

“You don’t sound thrilled to be back,” I added, narrowing my eyes, focusing back on the road.

“What’s up?”

Samarth exhaled, words dropping heavier now.“I’m looking for someone.”

I raised a brow, grin creeping in.

“Let me guess… the girl? The mystery Rajasthan beauty that had you blushing like a teenager?”

“Yugant…” His voice sharpened, irritation seeping through. “This isn’t the time for jokes. Can you help or not?”

“Relax, Romeo,” I chuckled. “I’ll help”

And then… it happened.

She appeared.

Out of nowhere, a girl stepped right in front of my car — white dress glowing under the streetlight, head turned away, unaware of the vehicle flying towards her.

“Shit—!” I slammed the brakes, tires screeching across the asphalt. The car jolted violently.

The phone slipped from my hand, landing somewhere under the seat as the world stilled.

I barely registered anything except the faint thud as she lightly collided with the hood and tumbled onto the road.

Fuck. Fuck.

I jumped out of the car.

There she was.

Lying on the road, her back facing me, motionless for a heartbeat too long.

Her arms curled in, wrists decorated with delicate oxidised bracelets, glinting in the faint streetlight. Her hair—straight, neat, not too long, resting just below her shoulders.

She wore a simple knee-length white dress, dirt staining the hem, juttis on her feet traditional, pretty, out of place on this chaotic street.

Everything around me blurred all I could see was her small, still figure sprawled across the asphalt.

I stepped closer, cautious but my heartbeat slammed against my ribs. Her small frame lay still, curled slightly on the road like the world didn’t exist.

I reached out, gently placing my hand on her shoulder.

“You okay?” my voice came out rough, laced with leftover panic.

She flinched at my touch a sharp, instinctive recoil but then slowly, her head turned toward me.

Her hair dark, messy, strands falling forward shielded most of her face. But then… I saw them.

Her eyes.

Honey-brown with golden fleaks, wide, shimmering with unshed tears under the harsh glow of my car’s headlights. Eyes that didn’t look hurt they looked… scared. Lost.

She nodded faintly, barely moving, like she wasn’t sure if she trusted the ground beneath her.

“C’mon… get up.” I extended my hand, palm open.

For a second, she just stared.

At my hand.

At me.

Back to my hand.

God, please don’t faint on me, I thought, pulse still racing.

Finally her fingers slid into mine. Small, cold, delicate.

I helped her up, her grip featherlight, as if holding on too tightly might shatter her. She straightened, settling the simple white dress clinging awkwardly to her frame, brushing dust off her knees. Then… pulling her hair back from her face.

That’s when I noticed the fear still lingering in her honey-gold eyes, clouding her features, making her look far too vulnerable for this brutal city.

Frustration prickled at the back of my throat.

I didn’t hit her barely touched her but still, she stood there trembling like a lost bird.

“Why the hell were you running in front of my car, hmm?” I asked, tone turning sharp, covering my unease with sarcasm.

“You trying to get some accident money scam going? You’re doing a shitty job if that’s your plan.”

She flinched again, blinking rapidly, staring — and I saw it. Her lips parted slightly… trying to speak, I assumed.

But no sound came.

Instead, my eyes caught it the tiny mole, sitting on the left side of her lower lip.

The smallest detail. But suddenly… the world seemed quieter…..

She looked… weak. Too weak.

Small frame, pale face, her eyes barely holding up — she looked like a literal child. Minor, scared, absolutely in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Great.

Just my luck to almost run over a lost, possibly underage, mystery girl.

I sighed, adjusting my jacket, the city noise humming behind me.

“Do you… need any help?” I asked, trying to sound less annoyed, more… responsible or whatever.

She nodded instantly, eyes wide.

Okay… she’s terrified, clearly in trouble… and probably younger than I thought.

Still, my mind ticked.

Why the hell isn’t she talking?

Maybe she’s scared. Maybe she’s just stubborn.

Nah… not jumping to conclusions yet.

“Alright… give me your home address,” I offered, already preparing to drop her off and wipe my conscience clean.

She just… stared.

Blinking.

Big honey-brown eyes darting between me and the empty street like I asked her to solve algebra.

Then, she shook her head.

“What do you mean you won’t give your address?” I frowned, hands on my hips.

Again… she shook her head.

I threw my hands up dramatically, turning toward my car.

“Okay then, go to hell! You wasted enough of my time already.”

I opened the door, sliding into the seat—Paused.

Mom’s voice echoed in my brain like divine guilt.

Help others, Yugant. Especially girls.

Damn it.

I groaned under my breath, head thinking lightly against the steering wheel before I climbed back out.

One last try.

I turned to her again, exhaling hard.

“Alright. No home address? Fine. Just tell me where I can safely drop you. Anywhere.”

She blinked, then turned, scanning the surroundings like Sherlock Holmes at work.

Her small hand lifted, pointing toward…

The traffic police uncle standing across the road, lazily scratching his beard.

I squinted.

“You… wanna go to that 50-year-old uncle?” I asked, eyebrows raised, already regretting this.

She shook her head.

Again.

My patience? Hanging by a thread.

“Muh mein zubaan nahi hai kya? Kbse mundi hilaye jaa rahi ho?” I blurted, frustrated.

(“You don’t have a tongue or what? You’ve been nodding your head for hours now.”)

She paused expression blank then to my horror, she stuck her tongue out.

Actual tongue. Pink. Functional.

I choked on my own breath, muttering,

“Fuck off… kahaan fas gaya main…” (“Where the hell have I gotten stuck…”)

I dragged a hand down my face, breathing through the chaos. “Uncle ke paas jaana hai?” I asked again, pointing at the officer.

She shook her head, eyes rolling slightly like I was the idiot here.

And then it clicked.

Police station.

“You wanna go to the police station?” I clarified. She nodded furiously.

Finally… progress.

I exhaled hard, waving toward the car. “Sit in the car.”

She followed, tried opening the door, but fumbled pathetically with the handle.

I groaned again, reaching over, unlocking it for her like babysitting was suddenly my job.

“Buckle up, Miss Silent Drama Queen,” I muttered as I slid back into the driver’s seat, engine roaring to life.

At least she had some brain cells working.

I dropped her off at the police station, handing her over to the constable like she was some lost kitten I rescued off the street. Then I returned home, totally forgetting I had to call Samarth.