The Royal Silence

41. Unsaid Love

My irritation rose the moment I saw him standing there looking at the closed shower, I placed his clothes near the basin counter and walked towards him.

"Why didn't you shower?" I asked standing in front of him.

"The water is cold," he replied, completely serious, I turned it on and tested it, it was perfectly fine.

"It's fine."

"No. It's cold."

I placed my hands on my hips.

"Shut up and shower, or do you want to smell like a damp, expired wine barrel?"

He blinked.

"You're smelling the same," he said. "Let's shower together then I won't feel cold."

My mouth opened in shock, before I could argue he stepped forward and pulled me under the shower with him.

"Yugant!" I gasped as water soaked through my dress instantly, but he didn't let go and placed my hands on his chest.

"Clean me." I stared at him. There is no way I can win right now.

I grabbed the loofah, poured body wash over it, and started scrubbing his shoulder firmly.

He just stood there, watching me. And then I heard a soft, unmistakable click.

For a second I didn't process it until the faint sound of fabric sliding reached my ears.

His pants pooled at his feet, and the next moment he kicked them away.

I froze and closed my eyes for a second.

"What the hell are you doing?" I snapped, heat rushing straight to my face.

His arm slid around my waist, pulling me closer under the spray of water.

"I just want to be cleaned properly," he murmured near my ear. "It's not like you haven't seen me like this before."

I shut my eyes tightly.

Okay. Breathe, Dhwani.

He had a talent for saying the most shameless things in the calmest tone.

Arguing with a drunk, stubborn man under a shower was not going to end well.

So I focused.

On his shoulders.

On his arms.

On literally anything above his waist.

The water slid down his chest, over his collarbones, down the lines of muscle I was desperately pretending not to notice. My hands worked mechanically, but my pulse refused to cooperate.

"Done," I muttered quickly. "You're clean. Finish up, I'm waiting outside."

I stepped back instantly ready to bolt or at least I tried to buy his fingers wrapped around my wrist again and pulled me back.

My back collided with his bare chest. The water soaked through my already ruined dress completely now.

The warmth of his skin against mine was far more dangerous than the shower.

"You cleaned me," he said softly against my ear. "It's my turn now."

My breath caught."Yugant"

"Hm?" His hand slid to my waist, steady, firm not forceful, but deliberate.

"This is a bad idea," I whispered, even as my body betrayed me by not stepping away.

"Is it?" he murmured.

He pushed my wet hair to one side, his fingers brushing the back of my neck before slowly finding the zipper. I felt the cool glide as he eased it down.

Why couldn't I stop him?

"It... is," I fumbled. "You're not in your senses."

"But you are," he replied quietly. "Isn't that enough?"

The dress loosened over my shoulders. His lips grazed the curve of my neck - not rushed, not desperate - just slow, warm, deliberate.

"Also," he added against my skin, voice low, "I made a mess on you. It's my responsibility to clean it."

The fabric slipped from my shoulders and pooled at my feet.

I inhaled sharply as the shower water hit bare skin, cool and shocking against the heat already building beneath it.

My eyes fell shut.

Water streamed down my collarbones, over my chest, tracing every nerve awake. His hands didn't rush. They stayed at my waist, grounding me, holding me steady.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered near my ear.

I didn't, I wasn't able to.

He took my silence as permission.

The shower turned off, and the sudden absence of water made the air feel heavier. A second later, something cool and thick trailed over my shoulder and down my arm.

Body wash.

I didn't open my eyes.

The soft scrape of the loofah followed slow, deliberate strokes across my shoulder, down the curve of my arm, across my collarbone. Not rushed. Not careless.

Every touch felt amplified in the quiet.

He moved behind me, the warmth of his chest close but not pressing. The loofah traced down my back, over my spine, lower and I had to steady myself against the tiled wall.

Next, I felt him lower himself in front of me.

My eyes flew open when I realized he was kneeling.

"Yugant..." My voice came out breathless, half warning, half plea.

He didn't answer.

His hands slid to my calves, steadying me before gently guiding one foot forward. The loofah brushed over my skin, slow and deliberate, cleaning away the water, the soap, the mess of the night.

The position itself made my stomach twist.

Not because of what he was doing but because of how he was doing it.

So focused and careful.

He moved to my other leg the same way, fingers firm yet careful, like I was something delicate he didn't want to damage.

My breath turned uneven.

How can he be this controlled while standing this close to me?

He stood up slowly, rinsing away the last traces of foam from my skin. Water streamed down his body and I realized I hadn't looked away even once.

Not once.

He turned the shower off and guided me out without a word. He wrapped a towel around his waist and pulled a thick bathrobe from the hook. Instead of handing it to me, he slipped it around my shoulders himself, tying the belt securely.

Then he reached for his trousers and wore it himself.

He again turned back to me, fingers combing through the strands as if he'd done it a hundred times before. Finally, he pulled his t-shirts over my heads it fell to my thighs.

I looked small in his clothes, but I still wasn't able to take my eyes off.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked quietly.

I narrowed my eyes on him. "Did your hangover disappear or something?"

"I don't know," he said honestly, I could tell he wasn't lying because his eyes were still red as if wanted very exhausted.

"Then how," I whispered, "do you have so much self-control seeing me like this?"

He held my gaze.

"Because it was never about lust for me," he said slowly. "Not with you." His thumb brushed a damp strand of hair from my cheek.

" So you are not physically attracted to me?"

"I do but the attraction didn't come first for me, the love did."

The word settled between us.

Love.

"And if I didn't love you," he continued softly, "I wouldn't care enough to control myself."

My thoughts spiraled.

So you can't be attracted to someone without loving them?

Why am I so dumb?

I was lost in my thinking when he bent slightly and lifted me into his arms.

Effortlessly.

"What are you doing?" I blinked.

He adjusted his hold and looked down at me with a faint smirk.

"You gained weight."

I gasped. "Excuse me?"

He shifted me in his arms as if calculating.

"Four... maybe five kilos. No, it's exactly four."

My eyes widened, because he was right.

Exactly four.

"How do you even..." I stopped. "Are you spying on me or something?"

He huffed softly. "No. I just remember you."

The way he said it made my chest tighten.

"I remember how you felt before," he added, voice lower now. "And I notice when you change, your cheeks look a little puffy as well."

He set me down gently on the bed.

"I like this version too," he murmured. "You look healthier."

Healthier.

Not thinner. Not sexier. Not better.

Healthier.

"You're fine now, I think I should go back to my room," I said quietly, trying to slide off the bed before I could move far, he shifted beside me and caught my wrist.

"Stay."

"Why?" I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

He didn't answer immediately. His eyes searched mine, unsettling, "I'm leaving tomorrow, this is the last time, I promise. After this... I won't come back into your life. Not like this."

My heart stopped.

Leaving tomorrow?

Weren't they supposed to stay ten days? Just like me?

And here I was stupidly planning the next five days in my head thinking maybe I would understand him better, understand myself better. Maybe give whatever this is... a name.

But nothing in my life has ever gone according to plan.

"Dhwani..." he called softly.

"Yes. I'm staying," I replied instantly.

Just because... he might need something at night. That's all.

He lay back and gently pulled me onto his chest, I didn't resist my ear resting right above his heart.

It was beating fast. Wild.

"Why is your heart beating so fast?" I asked without thinking.

"Because you're close."

I tilted my head up to look at him. "So if anyone else came this close would it be the same?"

He shook his head slowly."It only happens when we are close to someone we love."

Ishaan said the same thing.

I lowered my head back to his chest, my fingers drifting to my own heart.

It was racing too. Just as fast, maybe faster.

I stayed there on his bare chest, staring at nothing, blinking slowly while my mind refused to quiet down.

Do I love him?

But I'm selfish and selfish people don't know how to love.

Love means sacrifice, love means trust. Love means giving someone the power to hurt you and I have never been brave enough for that.

What if he finds out about my past?

What if one day he learns everything and looks at me differently?

What if he also thinks I'm a criminal?

What if I accept him... and he's the one who pushes me away? That would break me and what if he loves me because I am Samarth Rathore's sister?

What if he doesn't love me as Dhwani?

The flawed. Confused. Terrified Dhwani.

I've never dreamed about having a boyfriend.

Never imagined wedding outfits or a husband waiting at the end of an aisle.

I always thought I would live alone, not even fully with the Rathores.

Because I know Samarth bhai has his own life ahead of him. One day he'll marry. He'll build his own world and I never wanted to become a lifetime responsibility he carries.

I had already planned it, the day I stood firmly on my own feet, I would step a little away. Not disappear, but at least create distance.

Now everything feels unstable.

Now suddenly there's a man holding me like I belong there and I don't know what to do with that.

I need time.

Time to think.

Time to clear this mess in my head.

Time to understand him, to see if I can truly spend my life with him because I can't choose someone forever based on a few months of stolen moments and few emotions.

And now he is leaving tomorrow.

I don't even have the time I thought I would.

My fingers curled slightly into fist.

Why does everything important in my life come with a deadline?

I closed my eyes, listening to his heartbeat under my ear.

Maybe the real problem isn't whether I love him but it was that I'm terrified of needing him.

"Yugant...Can you stay here for a few days? I... I wanted to give us a chance. I wanted to understand you."

The words felt strange leaving my mouth. Vulnerable. Unprotected.

I waited for a few seconds but got no response.

I lifted my head from his chest slowly and looked at him.

His eyes were closed for a moment I just stared, his lashes rested against his skin, his breathing was steady now, no longer wild.

I let out a quiet breath.

Of course he would fall asleep right when I finally gathered the courage to say something real.

I watched him for a few more seconds, memorizing the shape of his face in the dim light.

I lowered my head back onto his chest carefully, listening to his now-calm heartbeat.

"I needed time," I murmured to him, knowing he wouldn't hear it. "And you're taking it away with you."

My hand rested flat over his heart.

After such a long time... I wasn't confused about what I felt. I was just afraid of losing it before I could understand it. Somewhere between fear and exhaustion, I closed my eyes too, holding onto him like the night might be the last one I'm allowed to.

YUGANT

The sharp vibration of my phone dragged me out of sleep. It kept ringing. Again and again.

My head felt like someone had taken a hammer to it. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the morning light filtering through the curtains.

I was in my hotel room.

The ringing didn't stop.

I sighed and tried to sit up only to realize something warm and soft was resting on my chest.

I looked down.

I couldn't see her face clearly at first, but I didn't need to bcz that faint floral shampoo mixed with something uniquely her.

Dhwani.

I don't need eyes to recognize her. My senses know her better than logic ever did.

The real question was how is she here?

I tried to think but my head throbbed as blurry flashes came in front of my eyes but nothing clear except the car counter and drinks.

Damn.

The phone rang again.

Carefully, I shifted her so she lay properly on the bed that's when I finally saw her.

Wearing my t-shirt, sleeping like a child and I was shirtless.

My jaw tightened. Did something happen again?

The thought hit me harder than the hangover.

I brushed her hair away from her neck gently, checking for marks.

Nothing.

Except smooth skin.

Relief exhaled out of me before I even realized I was holding my breath.

Okay. Nothing happened, that's great. I don't want all of that again.

If it had... there would be nail marks on my shoulders and teeth marks. She bites when she loses control.

Okay, Yugant. Shut up.

I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before getting off the bed.

I finally found my phone on the couch.

I grabbed it. Ishaan Calling.

"Sir, we are getting late for the flight." His voice reached my ear as soon as I answered the call.

Flight.

Right.

Reality crashed back instantly.

My eyes shifted toward Dhwani again.

"I'm coming, make sure Dhrithika is ready."

"Alright, sir." Call disconnected, te memory returned.

Kingsley's message came last night when I was drinking.

He shared a picture of me and Dhwani, from day two when I had hugged her outside the venue. He wrote he's returning to India and expects me there immediately.

And I know that was the warning.

The deadline I thought I had? Gone.

The "six months"? Meaningless now.

If I stay here even a day longer, Dhwani becomes leverage and I won't allow that.

Now I don't have time, no econd chance.

She's doing well, she's shining, and she doesn't need me dragging her into a war.

I opened the cupboard, grabbed my clothes, and walked into the washroom.

Her dress from last night was still lying under the shower-wet.

So something did happen? Or she just left it here?

I shook the thoughts away and stepped under the water.

Cold clarity.

I dressed quickly, shirt, pants. My body still felt warm, slightly heavy. I skipped the overcoat.

I pulled out my suitcase and shoved my clothes inside without folding, then the Laptop, chargers.

I just needed to leave.

If I stayed longer, I would weaken and weakness is dangerous.

When I finished packing, I walked back toward the bed, she was still sleeping.

Peaceful.

Serene.

If this were another life... if she were mine...

I would never walk away but she's not mine and she doesn't love me either.

Also I can't afford to gamble her safety on hope.

I bent down and kissed her forehead then I walked out without looking back. If I looked back, I wouldn't leave.

In the hallway, I looked for Ishaan but didn't see him. Assuming he was in Dhrithika's room, I turned toward the stairs and stopped.

Ishaan was coming down carrying Dhrithika in his arms. She was asleep, head resting against his shoulder.

Safe.

"Is she alright?" I asked.

He nodded slightly. "She locked the door from inside and refused to wake up. I had to get the spare key from staff. Didn't want to carry her like this, but there was no option."

He explained more than necessary.

"I know," I said simply.

"What about her luggage?"

"Packed. Staff is bringing it."

Of course Ishaan packed it. Irresponsible girl.

The hotel staff arrived with the bags.

"Sir, hold your sister. I'll take the luggage."

He tried to pass her to me.

I shook my head lightly. "She'll wake up if you move her now, you carry her. I'll handle the bags."

He threw daggers at me with his eyes and for once, I enjoyed it. I rarely get the chance to disturb his robotic composure.

I helped the hotel staff load the luggage into the car. The morning air was cold, sharper than it had been the past few days or maybe it was just me.

Ishaan slid into the back seat carefully with Dhrithika still in his arms, adjusting her head so it wouldn't hit the window.

He is so perfect in everything.

I paused for a second, looking back at the hotel building.

Fifth floor.

Somewhere behind those glass windows, she was still asleep, unaware, then I got into the passenger seat beside the driver.

I wasn't in the mood to sit next to Dhrithika and answer a thousand questions the moment she woke up. Nor was I ready to hear her shout at me for leaving like this.

Let Ishaan handle her for now, I trust him enough.

The ride to the airport was quiet. Too quiet.

I didn't look back even once.

At the terminal, Ishaan carried Dhrithika again. She didn't stir, not when security checked the boarding passes and gave Ishaan a teasing look, while he was practically murdering me. Not when the announcements echoed overhead. Not even when we boarded the flight.

He finally settled her into her seat gently, fastening her belt. She still didn't open her eyes.

I watched her for a moment.

"What did she even take?" I muttered under my breath.

"I have no idea," Ishaan replied dryly.

She's always been a heavy sleeper but this? This was different, almost like she didn't want to wake up to reality.

I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes briefly.

Tomorrow, we would land in India and then the real storm would begin.

?

Me and Ishaan were sitting on the couch, both holding our heads, because my sister, Dhrithika Raizaada was standing in front of us like a full-blown hurricane that had just made landfall.

She had woken up mid-flight. The moment she realized we were in flight, she went silent. Didn't speak, didn't eat, didn't even look at either of us.

Just sat there like a statue, eyes fixed ahead, jaw clenched.

I should've known silence from her is more dangerous than shouting because the moment we stepped inside the mansion hall...

It exploded.

A vase shattered against the wall.

A cushion flew across the room.

Some random decorative piece I don't even know the name of crashed to the floor.

Now the entire hall looked like a battlefield, and Daadi and Daadu were standing there, visibly stressed.

"Will you two tell us what exactly happened?" Daadu asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"I hate bhaiya! I hate him!" Dhrithika shouted, pointing her finger straight at me. "I told him we would stay there for ten days but he did what he wanted as always!"

Her finger shifted toward Ishaan.

"And this robotic PA of his," she snapped, "he is so dumb! Just follow whatever bhaiya says blindly like some programmed machine! No brain of his own. No opinion. Just 'Yes sir, no sir!'"

I stood up and grabbed her arm,"enough Dhrithi."

She froze, eyes wide.

"You will not talk to him like that," I said, tightening my grip on her arm, "This is the last time I'm tolerating it."

Her brows lifted in disbelief. "Oh wow, now you're defending him?"

"Yes," I snapped. "Because he deserves respect. I didn't say anything earlier," I continued, my tone firm. "because we were on a trip and you were so happy, but if I ignored it once doesn't mean I will keep doing that." I gestured around the wrecked hall. "This is enough."

She looked stunned.

Her lips trembled slightly, but she masked it with anger.

" But he is your PA."

"Exactly! He is my PA, more like family, not your servant to humiliate whenever you're upset," I added. "He works for me, yes but he is not beneath you."

Ishaan shifted slightly. "Sir, it's fine..."

"No. It's not fine," I cut him off.

Dhrithika's eyes filled, but she refused to blink.

"You're angry at me? Fine, be angry."

"Bas. Enough." Dadi cut in trying to loosen my grip from her arm.

" Leave her Yugant." she tried but I didn't because I wasn't done.

"You wanted to stay there?" I said, my voice steady now, colder. "Then go back, do whatever you want."

Her voice broke slightly as tears rolled down her cheeks, "you promised."

I looked at her and for a second, the anger softened.

"I never promised ten days," I said quietly. "I only said we'll see."

Dadu sighed heavily. "Go to your rooms. All of you."

He stepped between us and gently pushed me back, loosening my grip from her arm.

Dhrithika looked down at her wrist.

My fingerprints were visible against her skin.

I closed my eyes.

Why the hell can't I control my anger?

"You hurt me, bhaiya..." she cried, her face crumpling. "You're bad. You're so bad. You always refuse things. Adhvait bhaiya never does that!"

Adhvait, again.

"Adhvait, Adhvait, always Adhvait?" I snapped before I could stop myself. "Do you even know what he did to you? Look at yourself! He spoiled you completely!"

The regret hit me hard, sending her to America, letting her stay there for two years, letting him influence her that much. That was my mistake.

"Adhvait bhaiya was right!" she shouted through tears. "You're jealous of him! Because of you Mom Dad sent him away! You're the reason our family broke!"

"DHRITHIKA!" Dadi's voice cracked through the hall as she covered Dhrithi's mouth with her hand. "Stop, my child. Stop. Don't say something you'll regret later."

But the damage was already done.

"Bhaiya doesn't love me..." Dhrithika's voice broke into sobs. "He just shouts at everything. I hate him..."

Her words tangled with each other, her hands trembled. Her breathing grew uneven and then her eyes rolled back slightly.

"Dhrithika!"

Dadi and Dadu panicked and caught her in their arms. Ishaan also stepped forward and cradled her and lifted her without hesitation.

And I? I stood there frozen.

My mind blank, watching them carry her upstairs.

The hall was silent now. No shattered glass mattered anymore. Just the echo of her words.

You're the reason our family broke.

I swallowed hard, am I really that bad?

???