Chapter 6-Get Out
Vinaya did not sit on the bed at first.
She wandered.
That somehow felt worse.
Everywhere she looked, Priya remained.
A half-empty bottle of perfume.
A ribbon draped over the mirror.
An embroidered cushion with one loose thread.
These were not ceremonial keepsakes.
They were ordinary things.
Private things.
The belongings of a woman who had expected to return.
Vinaya touched nothing.
She felt like a thief simply standing there.
Eventually her legs began to ache beneath the weight of her wedding clothes.
She sat carefully on the very edge of the bed.
Immediately, guilt rushed through her.
Ridiculous.
She was Vikram's wife.
This was traditionally the Crown Princess's chamber.
Yet everything inside her screamed that the room belonged to someone else.
The door opened.
Vikram entered.
He stopped.
His face changed.
Vinaya rose immediately.
"I—"
"What are you doing here?"
His tone made her freeze.
"The attendants brought me."
His eyes moved to the bed.
"You sat there."
Vinaya stared.
"I was waiting."
"Who told them to open this room?"
"I don't know."
Vikram crossed the chamber quickly.
For the first time since meeting him, Vinaya saw true anger.
Not coldness.
Not indifference.
Fury.
She stepped backward.
"I didn't touch anything."
"You shouldn't be here."
"I know."
The answer surprised him.
Vinaya swallowed.
"I didn't ask to come here."
His breathing was uneven.
He looked around.
At Priya's things.
At Vinaya's crimson wedding clothes among them.
Something twisted in his expression.
Vikram wasn't seeing her.
She understood that suddenly.
He was seeing replacement.
Another bride beside Priya's bed.
Another woman wearing the title that had belonged to her.
"Vikram."
His eyes snapped toward her.
It was the first time she had used his name.
"I am not trying to take anything from her."
His face went white.
"You know nothing about her."
"No."
"Then don't speak as though you do."
Vinaya flinched.
"I only meant—"
"My wife lived in this room."
The words cut.
Vinaya looked at him.
His wife.
Not his first wife.
His wife.
She lowered her gaze to the necklace he had tied around her throat only hours earlier.
"And what am I?"
Silence.
Vikram stared at her.
For one second, anger faltered.
But grief was stronger.
"You knew what this marriage was."
"I knew you still loved her."
"Then you should understand."
"Understand what?"
"That this room is not yours."
Vinaya went very still.
She had spent years being overlooked.
Years allowing louder people to speak first.
Years pretending words did not hurt.
But something about standing in her wedding clothes while her husband told her another woman still owned the place meant for her finally broke through that habit.
"I didn't choose this room."
Vikram said nothing.
"I didn't open the doors."
Nothing.
"I did not remove Priyamvada's belongings. I did not sit before her portrait and claim I was better suited to be here."
Her voice trembled.
"I came where your servants told me to come."
Vikram looked away.
Vinaya continued.
"So if seeing me here hurts you, I am sorry."
Her eyes filled.
"But do not punish me for standing where other people placed me."
For the first time, Vikram seemed ashamed.
Then his gaze fell again on the bed.
Memory swallowed shame.
He pointed toward the door.
Vinaya stared at him.
His voice was low.
Broken.
And merciless.