36. Fellowship Exhibition
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– four Months Later
“I’m not going.”
I folded my arms, standing stubbornly in the middle of the Rathore Palace study. “It’s too far. It’s abroad. I can’t just get on a plane and go alone.”
Rajvardhan Uncle and Nandini Aunty stood in front of me, calm but firm.
“Beta,” Nandini Aunty said gently, “this is a National Fellowship Exhibition. Your paintings were selected at a national level. Do you know how many artists apply for that?”
“I know,” I muttered. “But I still don’t want to go alone.”
I turned to Samarth bhai. “You’ll come with me, right?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but Nandini Aunty spoke. “He can’t.”
I looked at her with almost crying face.. “Why?”
“Because your brother has responsibilities here now,” Rajvardhan Uncle said, his tone steady but authoritative.
“We just reclaimed Rathore Palace after years,” he continued. “The estate accounts are a mess. The legal transfers are ongoing. The political ties Maheshwar destroyed need rebuilding. Staff restructuring, land audits, security protocols everything is unstable.”
Nandini Aunty nodded.
“Samarth cannot leave right now. Not even for a week. He has to do very important work, right Samarth?”
My eyes moved back to Bhai as he gave a slide nod.
“You said you’ll always be there.”
“And I am,” he replied calmly. “But being there doesn’t always mean standing beside you physically.”
“That’s convenient,” I muttered and turned back to Aunt. “ Aap chaliye na?”
She smiled warmly like always.
“We returned to Rajasthan to rebuild our legacy. Your brother’s duty is to restore Rathore power and stability. Mine is to strengthen alliances and ensure the palace stands politically.”
She lifted my chin slightly.
“And your duty is to build your own name. To make sure Rathore doesn’t just reclaim land but respect.”
Rajvardhan Uncle stepped ahead, voice deep and composed:“Rathore Palace ko sirf diwaron se nahi, uplabdhiyon se mazboot kiya jaata hai.”
( Rathore palace is not strengthened by its walls, but by its achievements.)
I swallowed.
“So you won’t come?” I asked Samarth bhai again.
He stepped forward and placed his hands on my shoulders.
“I can't, I have to handle a very important thing here.”
I felt my throat tighten. “I’m scared,” I admitted.
Nandini Aunty smiled faintly.
“Dar ko haath pakad kar paar karte hain, beta. Usse bhaag kar nahi.”
(Cross fear by holding its hand, not by running from it.)
I know they want me to step out. To live my life. To breathe without holding Bhai’s hand.
But they don’t understand one thing. I am completely dependent on him.
Emotionally.
Mentally.
In ways I don’t even admit out loud. The thought of stepping into another country alone made my stomach twist. But they weren’t wrong either.
Maybe I’ve hidden behind him for too long.
Maybe it’s time I test who I am… without his shadow protecting me, because have his whole life ahead. More beautiful than mine.
I inhaled slowly.
“I think… I should try this opportunity,” I said quietly. All three of them smiled.
Proud.
“When will I have to go?” I asked, my voice steadier now.
“Within two days,” Bhai replied immediately. “I’m booking your tickets today.”
Two days. That fast?
“Where will I stay?” I asked, trying to calculate how real this suddenly felt.
“You’ll be staying in Florence, Tuscany, Italy,” he said calmly.
My eyes widened.“Italy?”
“Yes,” Rajvardhan Uncle nodded. “The exhibition is being hosted at a heritage art gallery in Florence. It’s one of the most respected art circuits in Europe.”
“You’ll stay at a hotel,” bhai continued calmly. “It’s very close to the exhibition venue. The fellowship committee has tied up with them. It’s secure, professional, and other selected artists will also be staying there.”
Nandini Aunty added reassuringly. “You won’t be wandering alone in an unknown place. Everything is arranged.”
Saying I was excited would be an understatement.
I was ridiculously excited. The fear that had been sitting heavy in my chest just minutes ago? Gone.
Vanished.
All it took was one word.
Italy. Florence.
I tried to hide the sudden sparkle in my eyes, but I’m sure they saw it.
“How many days will the exhibition last?” I asked, unable to stop myself from smiling now.
“Officially, four days,” Bhai answered. “But the fellowship program runs for ten. There will be networking sessions, private showcases, interaction with curators, collectors, and sponsors.”
“Ten days?” I repeated.
Rajvardhan Uncle nodded. “This is not just about displaying your paintings. It’s about building international connections.”
“Okay, so I need at least fifteen pairs of clothes, four pairs of footwear, makeup, skincare, everything. I need to pack.”
I practically ran toward the stairs but froze midway.
Passport.
I slowly turned back.
“Bhai… my passport and visa?”
He looked up at me from below, calm as ever. “It’s ready. Don’t worry.”
Relief washed over me so fast I didn’t even think. I ran back down and hugged him tightly.
When I say I’m completely dependent on him, I’m not exaggerating.
He patted my head like he always does, kissed my hair lightly, and said, “Now go pack.”
I went back upstairs, heart lighter than it had been in months.
The moment I opened my room door, I felt it again that comfort.
The belonging. My room was done in shades of blue and grey. Soft. Calm. Elegant. Exactly how I like it.
When we returned from Mumbai four months ago, Uncle and Aunty had asked how I wanted my room redesigned while they were refurbishing the entire mansion.
Correction.
It’s not a mansion anymore.
It’s a palace.
And honestly? It deserves that title.
Coming back from Mumbai was one of the best decisions of my life. There, I felt like something inside me was constantly cracking.
Even after coming back, that hollow feeling stayed for a few days.
But slowly… it faded.
I stopped reacting to certain names. Stopped replaying certain memories.
And now Raizaadas are gone from my life, from my mind. From everywhere, and the life I’m living right now?
I never imagined it.
I’m cherished here.
It’s not that I never had love growing up I did. But one incident destroyed every beautiful memory.
Now, as those memories are rebuilding themselves slowly, I want them to stay. Forever.
I opened my closet and pulled out two big suitcases.
Then went back and forth, stacking piles of clothes on the bed.Bhai wasn’t lying when he said he could buy me new things.
He did.
My wardrobe now looked like something out of a fashion magazine.
The life I’m living right now feels like a fairytale. I never realized Rathores were this wealthy. When Maheshwar Pratap was in control, I struggled for basic things. Bhai worked like a dog.
Now?
If I even sneeze, three people appear with water, tissues, and probably a doctor on standby. The contrast still shocks me sometimes but this shows how important I am in their life.
I stuffed another pile of clothes into the suitcase and tried to close it. It wouldn’t budge.
I pressed harder.
Still nothing.
With a frustrated sigh, I sat on top of it and pulled the zipper with all my strength.
“What a stubborn thing,” I muttered.
“It’s not stubborn,” a voice replied calmly. “You’re just dumb.”
I looked up to find Aunt and Bhai walking into the room.
I smiled awkwardly, scratching my scalp, and quickly got off the suitcase.
“I was just checking if it can handle my weight.” I said. That was such a terrible lie.
“Yes, we just saw,” Aunt teased, walking closer.
She opened the suitcase and pulled out half the clothes I had thrown in randomly.
“This isn’t how it works. You should at least learn the basics of packing.”
“Yes, I will,” I said sweetly, hugging her from behind.
She swatted my arm lightly. “Stop buttering me and watch carefully. You’re 24 now.”
In two seconds, she folded one of my dresses neatly and placed it properly inside.
Okay, that looked easy but I’m too lazy for that level of discipline.
“Mom, pack these medicines too,” Bhai said, placing a box on the bed.
I looked at the box and sighed.
After coming back from Mumbai, Bhai had taken me for a complete medical check-up and that’s when we found out how bad my thyroid levels actually were.
My T3 and T4 levels were abnormally high, and my TSH was extremely low classic hyperthyroidism. No wonder I was losing weight rapidly, feeling restless, having mood swings, irregular sleep, and constant fatigue.
I used to think it was just stress. It wasn’t.
My metabolism was running like a broken engine. The doctor said prolonged stress had made it worse. And if we had ignored it for longer, it could’ve affected my heart rhythm.
That scared Bhai more than it scared me. It wasn't like I stopped taking medicine in the past few years, I didn't. But when I went to Mumbai, I forgot about them for those three months, before that I took care of myself selling my paintings.
I was immediately put on medication to regulate hormone production, along with supplements and strict diet instructions.
It’s been four months now. The levels are stabilizing. I’ve gained a little weight not much, but enough for everyone to stop worrying every second.
My cheeks look slightly fuller. My hands don’t tremble like before. I sleep better. Well, I always sleep better. No compromise here.
Aunt carefully placed the medicines inside a pouch and looked at me seriously.
“You will take these on time. No drama.”
“I know,” I replied.
Bhai gave me that look the one that says I’ll check.
“I’m serious, Dhwani,” he added. “Different time zones. Don’t skip.”
“I won’t.”
Just as Aunt finished packing my medicines, my phone started ringing.
Dhrithika Calling.
Bhai glanced at the screen but didn’t say anything. He never stopped me from talking to her. She was the only one from that house who stayed in touch normally.
I picked up.
“CONGRATULATIONS,” she shouted, her voice bright and steady.
I pulled the phone slightly away. “Why are you talking like I just conquered a kingdom?”
“You kind of did. National fellowship. Abroad. That’s not small.”
I sighed. “Fine. Thank you. Happy?”
“Very. Which series are you taking?”
“The Honey Brown series. And the textured abstracts.”
“Good. Don’t forget that layered one. It has depth.”
“Since when did you start understanding depth in art?”
“Since my friend became impossible to handle.”
I snorted.
There was a small pause then she asked, “You’re going alone?”
“Yes.”
“There was a small pause, then she asked, “You’re going alone?”
“Yes.”
“Samarth bhaiya or Uncle–Aunt aren’t coming with you?”
I glanced at them once before answering. “No. They have important work here.”
I heard her chuckle softly from the other end.
“That’s great then. Are you flying directly from Jaipur, or will you come to Mumbai first?”
“Bhai hasn’t booked the tickets yet,” I said, watching as Bhai and Aunt stepped out of the room, quietly closing the door behind them. “But I think it’ll be from here only.”
“Hmm… okay. Have a safe journey.”
Her voice dipped slightly at the end. She was probably expecting we’d meet before I left.
“You take care too,” I replied before disconnecting the call.
Dhrithika disconnected the call and slowly turned toward her grandparents.
Both Sharda ji and Vishwajeet ji were watching her closely with that restless anticipation that only elders have when they are waiting for a specific answer.
“Dhwani is going alone,” Dhrithika announced, barely controlling her excitement before she ended up shouting it.
Sharda and Vishwajeet exchanged a quiet look.
“That’s good,” Vishwajeet ji said thoughtfully. “You know what you have to do now, right?”
Dhrithika nodded. A slow, mischievous smile curved her lips.
It had been months since Dhwani left..And she had taken her chaos with her.
Sharda never particularly adored Dhwani, but she never disliked her either. What she did notice, however, was the change in Yugant after Dhwani was gone.
The silence in him had deepened.
The sharpness had returned and the hollow look in his eyes had not faded.
Both Sharda and Vishwajeet knew the engagement with the Kingsleys was nothing but an arrangement. A business obligation wrapped in formality and they were not blind.
Yugant wasn’t happy.
They just wanted his happiness no matter where it came from. Even if it meant Dhwani.
Only one month remained before the Kingsleys were expected to return and start wedding preparations.
They were hoping for a miracle.
?
That night, everyone sat at the dining table.
The atmosphere was quiet. Yugant was focused on his plate, eating mechanically.
“Bhaiya?” Dhrithika called softly.
“Yes?” he replied immediately, without looking up.
“I want to go to Florence.” That made him look up.
“Florence?” he repeated dryly. “Or flower garden?”
“Bhaiya,” she said, irritated. “I’m serious.”
“You’re saying it as if Florence is a weekend picnic spot.”
“I know it’s not. But it’s not like I’ve never travelled before. I lived abroad for two years.”
“You lived in America with Adhvait and his family. That’s different.”
“It’s still abroad,” she countered. “And I’m 22, not 12.”
He leaned back slightly. “Fine. Give me one solid reason. And it better be convincing.”
Dhrithika exchanged glances with her grandparents, then said. “There’s an international art fellowship happening in Florence,” she said calmly. “It’s attracting collectors, gallery curators, and private investors from Europe.”
He watched her, “And?” he asked.
“And I want exposure.”
He raised a brow.“Exposure to what exactly?”
“To the European art market. To independent gallery management. To how international exhibitions function. We talk about expanding Raizaada’s creative wing globally, don’t we? Then why shouldn’t I observe how it actually works there?”
Yugant didn't look Convinced at all, so Dhrithika gulped giving another shot.
“Also, Kingsley Group has a heavy presence in Europe. If I understand the market dynamics myself, it helps us negotiate better in future collaborations.” Now Yugant was fully listening.
“I’m not going to roam around shopping,” she added.
“I’ll attend the exhibition events. Network.
Study the structure. It’s a short trip.”
Silence fell at the table.
“And you’ll go alone?” Yugant asked slowly.
She met his eyes directly.
“Yes.”
“For how many days?”
“ Maximus tension days.”
He held her gaze for a long moment.
“You’re hiding something, aren't you?”
She didn’t blink. “I just want to grow, Bhaiya.”
That part wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t the whole truth either.
“But Dhriti—” Yugant started.
“If you have so much problem,” Sharda ji cut in sharply, “then why don’t you go with her?”
The table fell silent.
Even Dhrithika froze for a second.
Sharda ji continued, calmer now but firm, “She cannot stay locked inside this house forever just because you are protective, Yugant.”
He slowly turned toward his grandmother as if he had seen something impossible.
Sharda ji encouraging foreign travel? That was new.
“I can’t go, Dadi,” he replied evenly.
“Then let her go alone.”
“I can’t let her go alone either,” irritation finally slipped into his tone. She was the only one he had left after their parents.
The only constant.
The only softness and the idea of her being miles away from his reach now unsettled him more than he liked to admit.
“Then go with her,” Sharda ji said decisively. “Because Dhrithika is going and that is final.”
She placed her spoon down with a firm click against the plate and stood up, walking away without waiting for a response.
Yugant looked at Vishwajeet ji helplessly.
Vishwajeet only gave him a knowing look, patted his shoulder once, and walked away as well.
Dhrithika lowered her head, hiding the small victorious smile tugging at her lips as she poked at her food.
“Bhaiya…” she said innocently after a moment. “Should I book the tickets?”
Yugant looked at her with a clenched jaw. She blinked back at him as if she had done nothing at all.
“Yes,” he finally said. “Book three. Ishaan will come too,” he added. “If I’m going there, I might as well use the time for business meetings.”
And with that, he stood up and walked away.
Dhrithika looked down at her plate again.
Phase one successful.
“Bhaiya… I’m hungry,” Dhrithika said, clinging to Yugant’s arm while he checked emails on his phone.
They were at the airport and in her excitement, she had booked the wrong tickets, something they realized only after reaching there.
Now Ishaan was at the airline counter trying to fix the mess while the flight they originally planned to board was preparing for departure.
“Dadi told you to eat before leaving,” Yugant said calmly. “You didn’t listen and now suddenly you’re starving?”
“I wasn’t hungry back then,” she muttered.
“And now you are? In one hour?”
“Bhaiya…” she whined.
He sighed.
“Fine. Go grab something from the food court.” He gestured toward the line of outlets across the terminal, cafés, snack bars, fast-food counters.
“I’m tired. I don’t want to go.”
Of course.
She had spent the entire day shopping and now couldn’t walk twenty steps.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered. “Fine. Tell me what you want.”
“Something good.”
He closed his eyes briefly. Her definition of “something good” changed every hour.
Still, he nodded and walked toward the KFC outlet near the boarding gates.
He ordered a Zinger burger meal for her, extra crispy strips on the side because she pretended she wouldn’t eat much but always did, medium fries, and a cold coffee.
For himself and Ishaan, he took black coffee.
As he waited for the tray, his eyes drifted back to Dhrithika, who was talking to someone on the phone.
He didn’t know what had gotten into her lately. She had been behaving strangely for the past few days.
When the tray arrived, he picked it up and walked back to her.
“Thank you, Bhaiya,” she said, immediately grabbing the tray and sitting down. She took a huge bite of the burger like she hadn’t eaten in days.
She was always like this. Sometimes mature beyond her age. Other times completely childish.
Shaking his head, he picked up his black coffee and sat beside her.
A few minutes later, Ishaan returned.
“Got the tickets, sir,” he said, holding them out. “We should move. We’re already late.”
“Yeah… have this first,” Yugant said, pointing at the extra coffee on the tray.
Ishaan’s eyes shifted to Dhrithika.
Her fingers were covered in mayonnaise and cheese, and she was licking them shamelessly. The corner of her mouth was smeared with sauce.
Yugant also looked and exhaled.
Ishaan grabbed his coffee. “Can you please eat fast? We don’t have the whole day.”
He tried to sound calm but failed miserably.
Dhrithika glared at him and attempted to reply, but her mouth was stuffed with food, so only muffled sounds came out.
Ishaan immediately stepped a few feet away and Yugant returned his focus to his phone. They both know talking to her while she was eating was pointless. It was like arguing with a wall.
After a few more minutes, Yugant looked at his sister again. She was still eating.
He glanced at Ishaan who was checking his watch repeatedly, clearly irritated.
“Leave it, Dhriti. We’re getting late,” Yugant said, standing up and taking the tray from her hands.
“Bhaiya, my fries!” she protested, pointing at the half-finished fries.
“You’ll get fries on the flight. Come on. Go wash your hands and clean your face.”
“But Bhaiya-”
His phone rang. He checked the screen.
Important call.
He looked at Ishaan. “Help her clean up. I need to take this.”
Ishaan gave him a look, the why-is-this-my-responsibility look but didn’t argue.
Yugant stepped aside to answer the call, already knowing this trip was going to test his patience from day one.
???