Page 10

My Buaa applied haldi, a fragrant paste made from turmeric mixed with various herbs, on my cheeks.

Sitting in the palace hall on a Bajot—a low stool—I looked at the ladies gathered for my haldi ritual.

I was surrounded by everyone, yet my mind was immersed in thoughts of the previous night.

He was indeed there.

I wasn’t dreaming.

I wasn't wholly hallucinating; it was due to my menstruation.

He was there; I talked to him.

But was the kiss real?

I couldn't fully cast my mind back, but a part of me wanted it to be real, while my sensible side just wanted to move on, thinking about my brother, who by now had probably been planning to wage a war against him over time.

A cold touch on my arms jolted me out of my contemplation, and I turned to my aunt, who was applying the haldi to my hands and feet.

At last, she spread it over my forehead and blessed me with a gentle kiss.

All the affection and adoration from my family made me emotional.

The closer we got to the wedding day, the more jittery I felt.

Suddenly, the thought that I would soon get married overwhelmed me.

Later, my mother applied haldi in the same manner and pecked my forehead, causing me to smile wholeheartedly.

Despite men not being allowed at the ceremony, by the end, my father arrived to apply the paste and touched my feet.

All his life, he treated me like a goddess, and on every auspicious occasion, he bowed at my feet.

However, his actions made me feel so puny.

How could I do that to my parents? They were considerate and protective and everything I could ever ask for, but I forsaken them for a man who, in the end, played me false.

I looked at him tearfully when he gave an encouraging smile.

“Don't worry; soon everyone will turn yellow,”

he said, and I chuckled as he collected a handful of paste and slowly approached my mother, who was hiding behind my grandmother.

“Raj, you're a grown-up now.

What will the children think of you?”

My grandmother shrieked at him, and everyone guffawed.

“I’m still young at heart, Maasa,”

he said, running behind my grandmother to catch her.

He applied the paste all over her cheeks, and she glared at him angrily.

Sitting down, she gathered a handful of paste and smeared it on his face.

I laughed at them both, still loving each other so deeply, and then broke down in tears.

My mother told me that my father hated her very much at first.

However, when he found out that she was going to marry Rudra's father, he became furious.

He ultimately ended up marrying her, a decision he later regretted despite the fact that they eventually fell in love.

As a result, they got married again, performing all the rituals with everyone's consent and in their presence.

“Abhi!”

He mischievously glanced at her and then at my aunt.

He filled nearly all the paste in his palms and smeared it on my aunt's cheeks.

“Bhaisa,”

she screeched, and with the intention of doing the same to him, she too took haldi in her hands.

But before she could reach him, he stormed away.

However, my mother blocked his way to allow my Buaa to get her revenge.

Meanwhile, Ruhani stepped closer to apply haldi to me.

She called all the girls to sit around me and covered every inch of my exposed skin with the paste.

Once my father left, she applied it to my back, neck, and face as well, gently scrubbing it all over with her hands.

She then removed it with the help of oil.

While doing so, I also applied haldi to her. All of this continued until late in the afternoon.

Ruhani and her mother later poured all the milk over my head, emptying the pot, followed by water.

I was then asked to take a bath, after which I was not allowed to step out of my chamber.

Raksha dora—a holy thread—would be tied around my wrist to keep evil energies away from the bride.

After taking a bath, I had dinner and lay on my bed.

It was a really long day, and it would continue to be the same until the wedding.

The following days were spent in Haldi with a lot of fun.

My parents were always trying to cheer me up.

I noticed love bites on Ruhani's neck, and when I met her husband, I saw one on his neck as well.

It seemed they were enjoying their time here.

My father was having a good time with Ruhani's father, and my mother seemed happy spending time with my aunt.

However, this one couple was often absent.

Haider and his fiancée.

The man appeared smitten, and Ruhani told me everything that had happened.

She shared how she regained her voice and recounted her experiences to me.

Listening to her, I felt that my pain was nothing compared to what she had experienced.

However, she was fortunate to have Sultan in her life.

Based on what she shared with me, I could tell that he loved her deeply.

On the fourth day of Haldi, after applying the haldi, I took a bath and had my meal.

Later that night, as I lay in bed, my heart, as it always did, began to imagine things that were as impossible as predicting the future.

A part of me was troubled because the King was going to send a physician to test me, and I wasn’t sure if Rudra did it.

Another part of me couldn't help but think about Rudra.

I was in a predicament about how we would face each other after the wedding.

As aunt and nephew? Just the thought of it was unnerving.

I suddenly heard a sound as I tried to fall asleep.

Not Again!

I positioned myself to look toward the window, where I spotted him.

But he looked… different.

When I focused on him, I noticed that he had trimmed his beard and was wearing black attire.

Strangely, he did not have his armor on and wasn't carrying a sword or dagger either—just plain clothes.

“Not again,”

I grunted as he sauntered towards my bed and stood before me.

“Seems like someone’s missing me,”

He teased slowly, and I sneered at him.

“I’m not in the mood for an argument.

We shall meet in Suryagarh after the wedding,”

I said, and he smiled at my remark before settling himself on the bed beside me.

Our eyes locked for an endless moment, lulled by the silence as if nothing had transpired in the past few days.

He gently cradled my hand, which was placed over my stomach.

Bringing it closer to his nose, he inhaled the fragrance of haldi and sandalwood and whispered, “Smells nice.”

I just stared at his inexpressive face as he asked quietly, “Have you ever thought about how we would face each other living in the same place? While guarding the king's chamber, I’ll have to see you sleeping with him, waking up with him, and helping him with his thousand imbecilic things.”

Tears blurred my vision as I heard his despairing tone.

“I was ready to live with you in a small cottage, but...

it doesn't matter anymore,”

I said.

Hot trails of tears slipped through my eyes.

He intently tried to peck my hand, taking it near his lips, but before he could, I snapped my hand away from his hold.

“This is wrong.

I will be your aunt for the next two days. Please, just leave.”

He chuckled and held my hand again to get me out of bed.

“Come here,”

He walked me towards the mirror, and I jerked his hand away.

“You should leave, Rudra.”

He glowered at me, stepping closer.

“You’re not listening to me, so why should I listen to you?”

he asked, and I swallowed nervously.

The rage in his eyes was different.

It wasn't alarming; instead, it was calm, like a warning before the storm—the storm for which I had to brace myself to face any consequence.

I stepped back, but he engulfed me, plopping onto the chair before the dressing table.

Pulling me closer, he set me down on his lap.

I writhed in his hold, but he tightened the clasp on both my hands with one hand and pulled the dupatta off my shoulder with the other.

“Rudra, this is wrong,”

I tried to say, looking into his eyes and making an effort to move away from his lap.

But he was more muscular and stronger than I was.

“It feels right to me,”

He said and tied my wrists behind me.

“Ah…”

I whimpered in pain when he pulled the ends of the dupatta, ensuring the firmness of the knots.

“This is wrong, you cannot do this with me,”

I emphasised again, but he cupped my nape and pulled my face closer to his.

“Do you dream of sleeping with the king?” He asked.

I grimaced at him.

“Shut up, Rudra,”

I whispered warningly.

“Now, this is what I call wrong.

You marry the king, but deep down you fantasise about me.”

He said.

Our faces were just inches away, at even heights, as I was perched on his thighs.

I watched him scoop haldi paste from the bowl into his palm.

“Rudra, please, this is not right,”

I said, tilting my head at him, my lips trembling, and he looked sharply into my eyes.

“I have every right to apply Haldi to the would-be Queen of Suryagarh,”

he decisively muttered, smearing the cold paste all over my cheeks.

His touch left me speechless with moist eyes, so I turned my lashes south.

“Hum toh aapke naam ki Haldi aur Mehendi lagaane ko sajj the, Rudra.

Kintu aap humein cchodkar chale gayein.

Jab cchodkar chale gaye toh laute kyu aur lautna hi tha toh gaye hi kyun?”

(I was willing to perform every marriage ritual in your name.

But you left me.

If you were to leave, why did you return and if you were going to return, why would you leave in the first place?) I said.

He clenched his jaw, inhaling a deep breath, and applied it to my other cheek.

“Ye kiske naam ki hai, ?”

(And of whose name is this one, ?) He asked, and I looked into his eyes, which were filled with a vehemence so strong that it had me shuddering.

“You can fool the world, not yourself.

Play a good princess all you want to the people, but instinctively, you know who you belong to,”

he exclaimed, paralyzing me with how certain he was of his words.

Listening to him, my ability to reason suddenly weakened.

As his fingers, at a slow pace, progressed towards my neck, I felt my insides stirring at his touch.

I gasped heavily for air, closing my eyes, when his fingertips raked over my most sensitive part: my collarbones.

“Rudra, this is wrong.

You cannot touch me, please…I’m to marry someone else in two days,”

I feebly pleaded.

Opening my eyes, I blinked timidly when I found him leaning closer to the side of my neck.

And, when his lips grazed the curve of my neck, a wave of sparks passed profusely through my spine.

He slowly deepened the touch, his warm tongue flickering over my skin as he began sucking me.

“Rudra, please...

this is wrong,”

I begged, but I didn't know why; my body reacted in contradiction to my words.

He was so close to me that my nipples stiffened at the proximity.

My head tilted back and lips parted, when he glided the blouse off my shoulder to apply the paste on the other collarbone.

On one hand, he was torturing my neck with his lips, and on the other side, his hands had me shivering under his touch.

It was so intense, I could feel goosebumps all over my skin.

“Ah…”

he sucked me harshly, making me whimper in pain.

I wriggled to get rid of the knot around my wrists, but he moved his hand down my waist and drew me even closer, freezing me in place.

His strong arm encircled my bare waist.

The roughness of his hand on my skin made me inhale deeply.

My waist felt too tiny in his muscular hand, which terrified me.

I closed my eyes, surrendering to the feeling.

“You are blushing,”

he remarked, kissing my chin.

I looked at him, opening my eyes.

“Rudra, please.

This is wrong, we shouldn't be doing this,”

I repeated my pleas again and again.

My heart fluttered as he placed his forehead on mine, and my breathing quickened wildly when his hand crept towards my back.

My eyes met his through the mirror, and I followed his gaze to see his fingers holding my blouse’s string.

“Rudra, don't do this, I am someone else’s bride, please,”

I denied again, but he paid no heed and loosened the strings of my blouse.

It made me feel all the wrong things, yet it strangely calmed me.

It felt like I was letting myself live in the moment to my heart’s content to face all the forthcoming difficulties.

He took more paste in his hand and slathered it on my nape.

I began gasping for air when his fingers coated in the cold paste slid toward my lower back, and I couldn't help the moan slipping through my mouth.

The warmth his touch emitted turned me into a puddle, and the way he fiercely looked at me broke all the walls I had built around myself.

Pulling his head away, he rubbed his cheek against mine, causing the paste to smudge his cheek.

He repeated the same on the other side, too.

Holding me, he swept his palms across either of my arms, spreading the paste all over my hands.

The intensity of his touch made my breathing uneven.

“Rudra,”

my chest heaved up and down, as he intertwined our fingers and yanked my face closer to his.

Our lips were too close; it was difficult for me even to utter a word, yet I tried.

“Rudra, please.

This will complicate everything, please... no more,”

He closed the gap between us despite my warnings, claiming my lips.

The sudden touch of his full lips on me tingled every inch of mine.

Butterflies crammed into my stomach, causing a twisted feeling to erupt in my heart.

He moved away and looked into my eyes.

“I have thousands of dreams to achieve and titles to claim, but not at the cost of you.

I cannot endure losing you,”

he poured out and placed his lips over mine again.

Taking my lower lip between his, he sucked it passionately.

I momentarily forgot to breathe at the intensity of the pull.

The way he possessively angled my face to deepen the kiss aroused me so badly.

Our intimacy triggered tears, brimming in my eyes, and I tried to blink away from the emotional turbulence.

Pulling back, he looked at me intently.

“Can you bear his child, ?”

he asked, and I looked at him.

I tried to comprehend him through his eyes; in return, it felt like I was an open book he was reading with undivided attention.

It was certain that no matter how hard I tried to hide, he would know.

He knew everything: what I was feeling, what I wanted, what frightened me, everything.

I shook my head no.

“Words,”

He said imperatively, and I gulped the hard lump down my throat.

“No,”

I whispered almost inaudibly.

He untied the dupatta from my wrists, and I sighed in relief.

Gently rubbing my wrists to ease the discomfort, he placed my palms on his cheeks and lazily moved them down his chest.

He never let me touch him before!

“Kal aapki mehendi hai?”

(Is it your mehendi27 ceremony tomorrow?) He asked and I nodded.

Looking into my eyes, he stretched his hand towards my hair and pulled out the pin holding my hair bun, leaving my hair to course freely on his thighs.

He pulled a small knife out of the scabbard designed as a hairpin.

Moving it towards his left forearm, I saw him piercing the sharp object into his skin, carving my name, staring right into my eyes.

?????

I just realised what he did and got up from his lap.

When I saw the blood oozing out from his wound, my heart wrenched.

With trembling hands, I picked up my dupatta and tore a piece of fabric to stop the blood.

“Are you insane?”

My voice squeaked as I screamed at him.

“You're not the only one here,”

He smirked.

I sat on my knees and held his arm, wrapping the cloth around the wound.

However, he pulled his hand back and rose from the chair.

“Rudra, it's bleeding.”

I tried to hold him, but in one swift move, he pulled me up and pushed me against the dressing table.

The way he looked into my eyes made me weak at the knees.

Cradling my face in his palms, he compelled me to look at him.

“Write my name in your hands tomorrow,”

he spoke with authority, in a low tone, and I pushed him away.

“Are you mad? Invitations have been sent, and the guests have arrived.

This is not a game, this is my life, Rudra,”

I spat.

Holding my waist, he leaned closer to my lips.

“Exactly.

This is not a game; this is your life,”

he exclaimed, pulling me in for a passionate kiss.

He took my lips between his and began sucking them intensely.

The hair at the back of my neck rose when I felt his hand moving on my midriff, just below the hem of my blouse.

“Kiss me back, ,”

He demanded in a whisper, and I blinked nervously.

I would never.

But I was too numb to react.

He traced his thumb along the curve of my breast and inched it closer to my perked bud.

He left my lips, and gazing at me, he stroked his thumb on my erect bud, caressing it back and forth, once, twice, thrice….

His torture on my skin had me panting hard for air, moaning.

Coming to my senses, I immediately snapped his hand away.

“If I survive, I shall be back to you, but if I don't, you can happily get married to my uncle and become the queen of Suryagarh,”

he said, retreating his steps away from me.

His words numbed me, and I tried to stop him, “Rudra, you will not do anything unreasonable,”

but he paid no heed and wrapped my dupatta around his wounded arm.

“You're not the only one who's persistent here, .”

As I walked in his direction, I held his hand.

“Rudra, please, you will not do anything,”

I pleaded, my lips wobbling.

Kissing my forehead, he pulled me into his warm embrace.

Moving my hair aside, he tied my blouse.

“All my life, I thought about what my master meant when he insisted that a moment of distraction could cost a lifetime of control.

But now I understand what he meant,”

He said, pulling away from the hug.

My whole form shivered immensely as I looked at him, stepping back.

“I will not do what you are thinking, Rudra.”

He turned around and said, “You will.

You will do as I would say, ,”

and leapt over the window.

Once he left, an exhausting sigh left my mouth, and as I sat on my bed, I touched my lips, remembering how vehemently he kissed me.

I could still feel his lips on mine.

What are you doing to me, Rudra? I hate you.

I cursed him in my mind.