Page 27

“Y

ou get it, my little queen?”

he asked, holding my face.

I nodded absentmindedly.

He gently grazed my chin and muttered, “Good.”

An appreciative expression etched across his face.

I peered at him concernedly, because I felt sorry for him and bad about his plight.

When I heard both of them talking, I realized that his Maasi maa wasn’t just filling him with distorted truths about my family; she held oppressive control over his thoughts, provoking and influencing him to believe how much she had struggled solely for him and his brothers.

As a person, Rudra didn't have many friends or a big family like mine.

He had very few people in his life whom he respected, cared for immensely, and trusted unconditionally.

Whether it was his Badi maa, his brothers, his comrades, or his beloved Maasi maa, he loved them all dearly.

There was something about him that suggested he could set the whole world ablaze if anyone tried to harm these people.

His loyalty to them was so resolute and generous that it terrified me.

I knew what it felt like to be destroyed by him, because I couldn’t bear even a quarter of that.

But what I didn’t realize was how he would feel when he got to the bottom of the truth and uncovered the underlying intentions of his Maasimaa and father.

I suddenly snapped back when he gently grasped my neck from behind and inched closer to my face.

He placed a soft, fleeting kiss on my lips and then backed away; it hardly lasted a moment.

“Hold on to this thought, little bird, the sky is your limit,”

he said.

I nipped my bottom lip, feeling lost in his touch.

That kiss took me away for a few seconds.

“You came with me, leaving your family.

I don't want you to miss them,”

He said, and I nodded distractedly.

I didn't know what to say, so, taking the lead, I tightly embraced him.

Leaning into his arms, I grasped his overcoat from behind and mumbled, “Rudra, I love you so much; it is beyond words.

Do not ever think that you’re alone and that no one loves you.

No matter what, I promise my lifetime to you and will always, always, love you.”

I was flooded with emotions, and my voice wavered as I opened up about how I truly felt.

He lightly ran his finger through my damp hair and kissed me on the head.

“Are you okay, ?”

I couldn't pin down what I was feeling, as I was experiencing a range of emotions.

I tried to blink away the tears clouding my vision and nodded.

“Come here,”

he said, drawing away from my hold and pulling out a chair.

Settling himself with me perched on his thighs, he wrapped me in his arms, allowing me to nuzzle my face into his neck.

I closed my eyes in his soothing hold, sinking into his touch.

He wouldn't have trusted me if I had attempted to explain anything to him, and I was skeptical about how he would react to discovering the truth.

Weaving his fingers slowly into my hair, he stroked them gently and asked, “Do you want to meet your family?”

I took a deep breath and planted a kiss on the side of his neck.

I did not say anything because that wasn't the cause of my dismay.

I didn't know why, but something about the air had not quite settled well with me since morning.

A nagging feeling lingered in the back of my mind, bothering and discomforting me.

I couldn’t shake it off.

My heart wasn’t at peace; it felt like something terrible was about to happen.

Throughout the time, he kept brushing my hair quietly, moving his fingers gently in a way that calmed my insides and lulled me to sleep.

Giving in to the pleasant feeling, I didn't know when I succumbed to slumber in his embrace, within his care.

I woke up on his lap with a stiff back and numb legs.

Fluttering my eyelashes open, I straightened up and found him gazing at me.

Leaning forward, he placed a tender kiss on my forehead and, tucking my loose hair strands behind my ear, he muttered, “You look beautiful, little butterfly.”

I beamed instantly, observing how frequently he gave me new names.

When I noticed the bright rays of the sun flooding through the windows, I abruptly rose to my feet.

“You must be getting late for the court meeting, I’m sorry,”

I reminded him, realizing we had guests and that he was supposed to be in the courtroom for the meeting.

“It's alright, I spoke to Ranvijay.

He is managing everything,”

he said, pulling me back onto his lap.

I blushed at the abrupt movement, but my brows knitted together at what he said.

“Spoke to Devarsa?”

He nodded.

“Spoke to him when?”

I asked warily, narrowing my eyes and feeling paranoid about his answer.

“When you were asleep,”

My jaw dropped in disbelief.

“He was here?”

He hummed, “hnnn-hmm,”

calmly playing with the loose strands of my hair, contrary to my anxious self.

“And he saw us like this?”

I asked uprightly, pointing between us.

He gave another nod, frustrating me.

To say I was embarrassed would be an understatement.

I was mortified.

“Why didn't you wake me up? We were not in an appropriate position,”

I grumbled in exasperation.

“I have my hair open, I’m sitting on you.

It wasn’t right, especially in front of your younger brother,”

I was flustered by the whole situation and complained in a hurry, only for him to smirk.

“Everyone knows children doze off anywhere, anytime,” he said.

I glared at him, slapping him on his chest, and stood up in a flash.

“I’m not a child, Rudra,”

but he got me back.

“Aww, my little angry bird,”

He teased, pinching my cheek.

“Stop giving me these stupid names,”

I gritted.

However, he sneaked his hand around me and jerked me closer.

While I struggled to get away, he leaned closer to my ear and whispered sensually, “Your hair is so beautiful.

I'm undoubtedly going to play with them while making love to you, little seductress.”

A gasp slipped off my mouth, making me shiver visibly when I processed his words.

He nibbled on my earlobe, sucking it softly, igniting a passion so deep within me.

A moan was about to escape my lips as I felt the sensation of his warm and wet tongue against my skin, but when he suddenly bit down on my sensitive spot, I hissed at the bittersweet ache.

“You still feel me there, my little death-note.”

Suddenly, the memory of that night clouded my mind in the blink of an eye.

My lashes fluttered heavily, feeling the area between my legs pulsating, spreading the heat throughout my being.

I took a moment to calm myself and muttered in a low tone, “Ranaji, please, get back to your work.”

I slowly pushed him against the chair’s backrest, and he smiled at me, saying, “You’re glowing.”

He stared at me with an intensity that made me breathless, and I closed my eyes to keep my sanity intact.

“Ranaji, there's something I want to talk to you about,”

I spoke in a stern voice to convey the seriousness.

“I’m all ears, Ranisa,”

He said, holding my hand.

“Ranvijay agreed to a political marriage?” I asked.

Sitting upright, he lowered his eyes in gloom and interpreted the situation.

“Yes, I was going to negotiate, but he agreed,”

I scrunched my brows in doubt.

“But why does the king of Songarh want to establish a political alliance with Ranvijay? What benefit does he get from this?” I asked.

He intertwined our fingers and kissed the back of my hand.

“You see, , a king is not the only title and personality who rules over a kingdom,”

he said.

“He is a representative of a group of people who work together to implement good governance in the kingdom.

Ranvijay, Agastya, you and a few other courtiers are the pillars of this group.

An alliance with any of these pillars benefits the king and the kingdom in terms of finance, security and support.

And Ranvijay, being a skilled scholar in economics, law, and social welfare, has positively influenced the foundation of my rule in Suryagarh.

Being the father of seven daughters, the King of Songarh suggested marrying off one of his daughters to Ranvijay to strengthen the relationships with Suryagarh,”

He explained, and I nodded.

“But what about him? Is he happy? He agreed to marry her, but he hadn’t met her.

What if it doesn't work?”

I said, and he pursed his lips, playing with our intertwined fingers.

He traced my palm with his fingers, creating invisible figures, and mumbled, “That's what I am worried about, too.

Even though he is very compassionate, he speaks less, is not very good at showing his emotions, and expects nothing from people.

I just want him to be happy,”

he said, and I couldn't agree more.

“Of course.

Why don't we arrange a meeting to let them talk to each other?”

I suggested, and he shook his head.

“That’s not how political alliances work, my little mediator.

There are no such conveniences in diplomatic wedlocks.

It's all on paper, like a transaction, a promise in words to seal a marriage between two people.

And only after the marriage are the bride and the groom allowed to see each other, not before the wedding,”

he described, tugging playfully at my cheeks.

“Oh yes! I just recalled it.

My mother told me about this long ago:”

His face stiffened at the mention of my mother, and he fisted his hands.

“Yes, because her hand in marriage, too, was a promise made by her brother to my father for political gains,”

he said in a firm tone.

I gulped, understanding why he was so easily affected whenever it concerned his father.

“But, Rudra, try to understand it from a girl's perspective.

She was merely twenty, and your father was in his forties when they were promised.

She had no clue about it.”

He closed his eyes and took deep breaths.

The silence lingering in the air was deafening, creating a thick, invisible fog of tension between us.

Breaking the silence, he spoke in a suppressed tone to contain his fury, “And that’s exactly where everything went wrong.

A political alliance is a promise that you have to keep.

Once it's made, it’s made.

Such promises cannot be broken.

No matter the age,”

I was truly agitated by how he tried to justify the whole situation on the grounds of his principles.

Inhaling sharply, I questioned him in a low tone, “So why didn't you let me marry your uncle? That alliance, too, was a promise I had to keep.

I wanted to sign a peace treaty with Suryagarh through our marriage.”

As soon as I finished, he angrily clamped my nape and pulled me closer to him.

Keeping my head high, I looked into his eyes and added, “You’ve done exactly what my father did to save my mother.

If you believe your actions can be justified, then I'm sorry to break it to you that what my father did was right too,”

He had his eyes shut, his jaw set firmly, and even though he was fuming, he made every effort to refrain from lashing out.

“I loved you,”

He seethed, glaring daggers into my eyes, and I replied instantly, “My father loves my mother too.

And let’s not overlook the fact that your father already had fifteen wives.

He just wanted one more to warm his bed.”

His grip tightened around my neck.

“Hold your tongue, ,”

He warned me in a dangerously low tone.

“They all too were perhaps political marriages,”

He said, earning a chuckle from me.

“Your father must be a skilled player of politics.

Why don't you, too, marry a hundred women in the name of politics like your father,”

I snarled at him, and his clasp turned painfully tight on my nape.

“Don't you dare say another word, ?”

I lowered my eyes at his threatening tone.

“I’m sorry, but what's wrong is wrong,”

I muttered, “Your father treated women as objects, saw them as symbols of royalty and a source of pleasure.

I pity you because your beliefs fluctuate so easily.

Every time it comes to me and my family, you become so inconsiderate and cruel, but when it’s about your father, you turn so reflective and sensitive,”

I confronted him.

He pulled exceptionally close, his breath fanning my face.

I struggled to breathe in his hold, yet he stared at me blankly.

“Why don't you understand? You’re special to me, ,”

he said, placing his forehead on mine.

A lone tear slipped down my cheek.

“Every woman is special, Rudra.”

My voice wavered with intense emotion.

He moved back, and I looked at his stoic face.

He stared deeply into my eyes, yet his silence revealed the anger that was burning inside him.

With the intention of talking, I was about to speak, “Rudra, your fath—”

“Enough!”

but he cut me off mid-sentence.

He lifted me off his lap, got to his feet, and darted out of the room.

I stood there, staring at his back, watching him walk away once more.

My heart throbbed quickly in my chest, urging me to call out for him, but my mind contradicted me.

It was an internal clash between my heart and my mind.

The rational part of me felt distressed, angry, and justified.

My heart, however, wanted to be kind to him, understand him, and, most importantly, stand by his side.

I was overwhelmed by a wave of emotions, struggling against its turmoil, and it felt extremely turbulent.

Blinking back my tears, I swallowed the hard lump of sadness and looked at myself in the mirror.

Why was everything so complicated? Could it get worse? When would he realize that he was trusting the wrong people?

Sighing tiredly, I braided my hair and adorned myself with some jewelry.

Once done, I went to the guest chamber and called for Suman and Reva.

All the attendants gathered at my call, and I asked, “Have the preparations for the guests’ lunch started?”

Reva curtly bobbed her head.

“Ji, Ranisa,”

“And are all the guests’ chambers cleaned?”

She nodded again.

“Ji, Ranisa,”

“Good,”

I muttered and directed my focus to Suman.

“Suman, notify Ranaji that drafts of amendments are kept in the library for him to review.

Kindly tell him he must review those documents for finalization once he’s wrapped up his work.

And don’t forget to inquire if there’s any news from our secret agent,”

Listening to my every instruction, she nodded, and I added, “And yes, let Prince Agastya know I want to meet him when he’s free.”

Once I had briefed her on all the details, she took her leave.

Later in the morning, I took a walk around the palace, and while exploring, I considered visiting the town on the outskirts of the palace.

Specific standards were established for commoners joining the royal army and palace staff.

Until they met the criteria, their stay was subsidized by the royal treasury.

But I was aghast to find no soul wandering around the town, not a single person in sight.

Let alone people, the land was so barren that no trees or birds flew around.

It felt as though the town had been abandoned for decades.

“Bhabhisa!”

I was startled at the voice and immediately turned to find Agastya standing behind me.

“Devarsa, you scared me in the daylight,”

I breathed heavily, keeping my hand on my chest to calm myself.

“Aap yahaan kya kar rahin hain?”

(What are you doing here?) He inquired, and I turned back to observe my surroundings.

The dead, leafless trees, the ruined quarters, the creeping silence around, as if it were left never to be occupied again.

“Hum yaahan aas paas ke kshetra ka nireekshan karne aaye the.

Kintu yahaan to koi bhi nahi hai.

Kya Suryagarh mein koi aisa nahi jisko raj gharaane se sahaayata ki Aawashyakta hai?”

(I paid a visit here to inspect the area around.

But there’s no one here.

Is there no one in Suryagarh who needs support from the royal privileges?) I asked.

He turned around, folding his hands behind him and raking his eyes around the vast land.

Taking a deep breath, he looked back at me and said, “Bhabhisa, Suryagarh ki cchavi maatra dekhne mein vishal va sundar hai.

Iski bhavyata aur iska prataap to Daadosa ke shaasan kaal mein ucch tha, unnati ki pad par tha.

Kintu jabse Tausa ne rajgaddi sambhaali, iska tej aur gaurav dhundhla ho gaya.

Suryagarh ki praja ko to ab na raj gharaane par vishwaas na hi Raja par,”

(Bhabhisa, Suryagarh’s image as a beautiful, gigantic empire is just a facade.

Its grandeur and glory were at their peak during the reign of our grandfather and were on the path of advancement.

But since Uncle took over the throne, its magnificence and pride began fading away.

People of our kingdom have no faith in the royal family or the king anymore.)

“But this is not right.

Our people need us.

The king needs his subjects.

Can anyone tell us anything about what’s happening with our people?”

I asked, and he shook his head sadly.

“Bhabhisa, it hasn’t even been a week since Bhaisa took over the kingdom.

A new reign system in the empire implies facing challenges, specifically, challenges in terms of finance and security.

For now, the matter of greatest importance is to prepare ourselves, strengthen our roots, refill the royal treasury, increase our wealth, and, most importantly, ensure the royal army is completely on our side.

Only then will we be able to support our subjects,”

he clarified in detail.

“Are we out of wealth?”

I immediately asked.

He pursed his lips, looking at the ground.

“We are, indeed.

In the uncle’s reign, he added solely to his comforts, while the nobles surrounding him stacked their coffers.

But since we now have complete dominion over the royal treasury, the assessment of available resources has begun.

Coins, jewellery, gemstones, and artifacts have all been enumerated under Bhai sa’s guidance, and detailed records have been kept.

However, the counting of tax collections from previous decades, revenue from agriculture and land, and overall wealth is still underway.

We are yet to find a new income stream, which will only be possible when we have a complete overview of our resources.

Only after this will we be able to outline a new construction plan for Suryagarh’s territory,”

He elaborated.

I nodded, comprehending the whole situation.

Yet, a part of me remained unconvinced.

I was eager to learn about people’s conditions without further delay.

Knowing that the evaluation of assets, the plans, and everything else would definitely take time, I wanted to understand under what circumstances the people of Suryagarh were living, what they were experiencing, and where they were located.

“But I want to meet people,”

I said, and he looked at me, confused.

“I mean, this is necessary.

What if they are in some dire situation? What if the women need our help? What if something cruel is happening to them and we don’t know about it?”

I tried to describe the possibilities, and he nodded in agreement.

“Yes, you might be right, Bhabhisa.

But Bhaisa will never allow it,” He said.

“Why? Doesn’t being a queen and a prince give us the authority to make such decisions?”

I questioned, and he nodded curtly.

“Bhabhisa, it's only been a week since Bhaisa took over, and that was through a revolt.

Many soldiers were martyred, resulting in so many families losing their loved ones.

People might be infuriated with us,”

“Yes!”

I shook my head in urgency.

“Yes, that’s exactly why our people need us.

We have to reconstruct the outskirts of the Kingdom as soon as possible and relocate the people who are below the poverty line and need our immediate support,”

He inhaled a sharp breath and countered, “Bhabhisa, we don’t have as many resources, and in addition to that, we cannot expect people to trust us so quickly.

Gaining people’s rapport is a gradual process.”

“And so, it is necessary to interact with people to build that trust,”

I spoke with an insistent tone.

“The subjects can only trust the royals if they have consistent communication flowing between them.

The more we delay, the bigger the cracks get,” I said.

“Bhaisa will never allow it,”

he stated, and I replied, “So don’t tell him.”

He was taken aback.

Gaping at me with wide eyes, his mouth slightly open yet closed, he seemed to want to say something but couldn't.

“No, he’ll get so angry,”

he finally voiced after a calculated pause.

I folded my hands in front of me and said, “He’s always angry.

And, I cannot stop myself from performing my duties just because he’ll get angry."

He took a step back and uttered in a serious tone, “This is a risky attempt.

You know, people might get angry at us,”

I shook my head, trying to assure him.

“I’ll talk to them.

I’m sure they will listen to me,”

“People, like the old king, are just waiting for an opportunity to get back at us.

If this news gets to our enemies, Bhaisa would be done for,”

He said, and I took a step forward.

“So you accompany me,”

he stumbled back, covering his mouth and shaking his head in absolute terror.

“Bhaisa will kill me.” He said.

Narrowing my eyes, I scrutinised him up and down, with my hands on my hips.

“Devarsa, are you a kid?”

His jaw hung open, and he scoffed at me in displeasure.

“Bhabhisa, I’m taller and healthier than you.

In what sense do I seem like a kid to you?”

He tried to maintain his gait, but failed miserably, the way he complained, moving his hands up and down to flaunt his physique.

I could notice that slight tinge of aggression on his face.

“So why are you scared of Rudra?”

I said, and he immediately looked at me in utter shock. “Rudra?”

I immediately turned away, slapping my mouth. “Ranaji,”

I turned back to him and corrected myself, laughing nervously.

He knitted his brows together, examining me.

“Aisa prateet hota hai ki bhaisa ne aapko tanik adhik hi choot de rakhi hai,”

(My brother seems to have given you too much liberty).

He said.

I smirked, folding my arms over my chest.

“Kyun? Aap apni patni ko aisi swatantrata nahi denge?”

(Why? Wouldn't you give your wife such liberties?) I asked, and he shook his head.

“Kabhi nahi.

Humaari patni ko humein sammaan se bulaana hoga, sabhya vyavahaar rakhna hoga, aur jo hum jo kahenge wo sab karna hoga,”

(Never.

My wife will have to address me with respect, behave decently and do everything I say).

The way he spoke with so much pride, I tried, I honestly did, but I just couldn't.

I immediately burst into fits of laughter, and he glared at me sharply, which caused me to laugh even louder, clutching my stomach.

“Hahaha… Devarsa aise to aapko koi kanya milne se rahi,”

(With such demands, I’m afraid you'll never get a wife).

I said.

He dramatically mocked how I laughed, and I immediately shut my mouth.

“I’m sorry, Devarsa,”

Flaring his nostrils at me, he said, “I’ll complain to my brother to punish you for laughing at me.”

I smiled and replied, “You can complain all you want, but for now, please agree to tour the village with me.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, looking at me shrewdly.

“You want me to cut my head and serve it to you on a silver platter?”

He asked dramatically, and I nodded.

After a pregnant pause, he finally agreed, “Ok!”

And I beamed happily. “But…”

I shut my mouth, fluttering my eyes anxiously, waiting for him to finish.

“...

you'll have to do something for me in return,”

I creased my brows together, and he moved slightly closer.

You’ll have to help me make someone jealous,”

he whispered discreetly, and I immediately looked at him.

“Who?”

I questioned.

He smirked and answered in a very low voice.

“There’s a girl,”

My mouth hung open with the news. “A girl?”

I asked, and he nodded.

“And may I know who this unfortunate one is?”

I questioned, to tease him.

He looked at me blankly, and I chuckled.

“Alright, I was just messing with you.

Tell me, who’s this lucky girl?”

He smiled and, taking a deep breath, said, “I’ll tell you when the time is right.

But for now, do you agree?” he asked.

“So now you want me to cut my head and serve it back to you on a silver platter in return? Because Ranaji will kill me for sure,”

I said, and he smiled at me evilly.

“Now that's how deals work, Bhabhisa,”

I sighed and said, “Okay, done!”

“Great! So we’ll leave when the guests and Bhaisa will be busy with the noon meal,”

He said, and I nodded.

“Good idea,”

But suddenly, I remembered something and immediately clarified my doubt: “Oh yes, will we go on horseback, or should I go in a palanquin?”

He grinned at me widely, smacking his palms together and said, “Bhabhisa, there is this new thing in the market, it’s super comfortable and fast, and will help us manage our weight too.

It's like two sticks,”

I gaped at him in wonder.

Why wasn’t I introduced to such conveniences? I thought.

“Really?! Do we have such a thing in Suryagarh?”

I asked, and he nodded enthusiastically.

“Yessssss! We all have it...legs,”

he said in an unusually high-pitched voice, showing off his legs, and I blinked at him irritably.

Sighing, he flashed a smile and retorted, “We’ll go on foot, Bhabhisa.

It is safe and will help us keep our identities hidden,”

I nodded in understanding.

“And that brings us to a new problem.

How will we hide our true identities?”

I asked, and he illustrated the plan, “Well, just make sure no one recognises us while we leave the palace, while wandering in the village, and finally, when we return.

There’s a strict security check at the main entrance following the arrival of guests in our palace.

Every person walking in and leaving is inspected in advance.”

“Okay! I’ll take care of it,”

I said, and he added, “Now, we must leave.

There isn’t much time left for lunch.

I’ll meet you outside your chamber in some time,”

he said. I nodded.

“Okay, see you later.”

Parting our ways, I came back to the palace and ambled straight to my chamber with a pounding heart, because I kept thinking of the adventure we were about to get on.

My plan was to make sure no one saw me leaving the chamber.

As soon as I reached the bedroom, I called for Suman.

Walking in, she asked, “Yes, ,”

Going near her, I asked, “Can I borrow another pair of your clothes?”

She furrowed her brows concernedly.

“What? Why?”

she asked, and I replied, “Just lend me a pair.”

She nodded, narrowing her eyes at me, then left to bring her clothes.

She returned with a simple grey and red lehenga.

Taking it from her hands, I rushed into the dressing room and quickly removed all the jewellery.

After changing into the clothes, I came out and found Suman’s sceptical gaze fixed on me.

“Are you going somewhere?”

she asked cautiously, raising her eyebrows.

The thought of her rambling the whole truth to Ranaji if he asked crossed my mind.

“No,”

I blurted out.

“The weather’s so humid today.

I was feeling suffocated in my clothes,”

I sputtered, and she looked at me sharply.

“, don’t even try.

What are you going to do? Tell me the truth,”

she said, and I took a deep breath, trying to conceal my embarrassment.

“I’m just thinking of surprising Ranaji,”

I said, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping she would buy it.

When I opened my eyes, I looked at her lips, stretched into the widest of smiles.

As I walked closer, she gushed, holding my hands, “Wow! Really? Is it some kind of fantasy, like making out in a cottage or in the middle of a forest?”

And there it was—I felt like someone had stabbed me and pierced my heart.

My husband was practising celibacy for ten years, for god's sake.

He couldn't even jerk off, and this girl was talking to me about fantasies.

Seriously?

“Yes,”

I had to force a smile to stop her from asking more questions.

Blushing at my answer, she said, “I’d love to know the details.”

And I sucked in a sharp breath.

“Why not? I’ll write a book on it,”

I said, and her face fell a little at my comment.

“Okay, if anyone asks where I am, just say you don’t know,”

I explained, and she nodded, perplexed.

I walked past her and called Reva.

“Ji, Ranisa,”

she acknowledged, standing before me.

“Where is Ranaji?”

I asked, and she answered, “I think he just left for the dining room with all the guests for lunch.” I nodded.

“Okay, thank you!”

Once she left, I covered my head with the dupatta and hurried out of the chamber.

A few steps away from the chamber, in a corner and out of sight, my gaze fell on a man wearing a dhoti and a plain red kurta, with a turban wrapped around his head and a moustache above his lips.

I carefully observed the individual.

Tall, and green eyes—Agastya.

I sprinted in his direction as soon as I recognised him.

“Shall we go now?”

I asked, standing beside him, keeping my tone down.

He nodded.

“Yes.

If anyone asks, just say we’re husband and wife and that we are leaving to meet my ill Guruji,”

he said, earning a chuckle from me.

“Ranaji will kill you if he knows that you sickened his Guruji,”

I remarked, and he immediately looked at me.

“Bhabhisa, volume,”

he muttered, and I shut my mouth in an instant.

Then he gestured with his hand, saying, “Come on.”

We silently walked towards the main entrance and stood in the queue, like everyone else leaving the palace.

I could see guards investigating people through the blurred view of my cotton veil.

We remained still, holding our breaths, waiting for our turn.

When guards began checking on Agastya, my heart hammered against my chest.

“What is your name?”

One of them asked, and he answered in a completely altered voice, “Sooraj,”

The guard further asked, “And who is she?”

I gulped, waiting for his response.

“My wife, Kalavati,”

he said, and I lowered my dupatta even more.

I didn't know why, but suddenly my cheeks turned warm, and my heartbeat was almost audible to my ears.

“And where are you going?”

My whole body shuddered the moment I heard his voice.

What the hell is he doing here? My insides screamed.

Through my dupatta, I could see half of his body, up to his midriff, standing in front of us in his overcoat.

My fingers trembled insanely as I fidgeted with the hem of my dupatta.

I just wanted the earth to swallow me whole.

“Pranam Ranaji! We’re going to our village.

My Guruji is no more, so…”

Agastya replied in such a sorrowful tone, as if what he was saying weren’t lies.

What a master of drama.

“Oh, that’s so sad,”

He said, and looked at the guards.

“Let them go,”

I heaved out a sigh of peace, and Agastya retorted, joining his palms,

“Thank you, thank you, Ranaji.”

He walked toward the main gates, and I followed him quietly.

However, as soon as I took my next few steps, I heard the sound of my anklets’ bells.

Hey bhagwaan!!!

I mentally smacked my forehead.

Why, God, why? Why was I so foolish to forget to remove my anklets?

My fingers shivered in fear, and if I had stopped, he would’ve sensed that something was suspicious.

And so I chose to keep walking, fisting my palms, when suddenly, “Wait!”

He enunciated firmly, and my whole body visibly shook at his tone.

Dead, you're dead, ! My insides shrieked in terror, and my knees weakened at the very thought that he probably recognised us.

“Keep going,”

Agastya mumbled under his breath, and we both kept walking at a normal pace, even though our bodies were quivering in fright.

“I said, wait!”

Sweat beaded on my forehead, running down the side of my face.

With wobbly lips, I breathed, “Should we escape?”

Heat raced up my cheeks when I heard his heavy footsteps striding closer.

Suddenly, Agastya turned back and approached him, with his palms adjoined, “Kshama kijiyega Ranaji, kintu humse koi bhool hui hai kya?”

(Apologies, your majesty, but have we done something wrong?) It was audacious of him to ask that question, in an oh so courteous tone.

But when I turned around, I didn't find Agastya standing near Rudra; instead, I found him on his knees at Rudra’s feet.

My mouth hung open when I saw him clinging to Rudra’s legs, feigning tears, as if he were wailing for his dear life, and what flabbergasted me was his acting, which seemed absolutely real.

I glanced up at him fearfully.

His hands were folded over his chest, and anger was evident on his face.

Suddenly, twisting Agastya’s ear, he raised him to his feet and grabbed him by his nape tightly, pulling him closer.

“She is your wife?”

He emphasized ‘your wife’ in an anguished tone, and I looked at Agastya’s petrified face.

He frantically shook his head in denial and quavered anxiously, “No, no, no, Bhaisa.

It was her idea,”

He pointed his finger in my direction, and I looked down.

That was it. I'm done.

“What idea?”

He asked, frowning at him.

I could feel his eyes on me.

“And you, go back to your chamber and wait for me,”

he said, snapping his fingers at me, and an instant wave of fury washed over me.

I immediately lifted my veil and questioned,

“Why?”

he looked at me angrily and yelled, “What, why?”

Inhaling a deep breath, I braced myself and said, “I want to go out with Devarsa.”

he glowered at me intensely.

“What did you say?”

he asked, looking at Agastya.

“What were you two planning? And how dare you call my wife yours?”

And there, I could say he was jealous.

Agastya shook his head, appearing fearful.

“Bhaisa, she bribed me to do so.

She wanted to go out, but I warned her that it was a terrible, terrible idea.”

He updated him on the information.

I exhaled sharply.

“Really, Agastya? Didn't we have a deal?”

I asked, and Rudra directed his attention to me.

“What deal?”

Seizing the opportunity, Agastya sneakily slipped away from his hold, slowly retreating his steps.

He fled.

Rudra tried to catch him, but he was fast enough to escape.

I just stood there, blankly, not knowing what to do.

“You, come with me, little troublemaker.”

He dragged me along by my wrist.

“Ranaji, I want to go out,”

but he paid no heed to my pleas, which riled me up.

As soon as we reached our bedroom, he went ballistic and snapped at me in a thunderous voice, “What the hell were you trying to do?”

His assertive behavior was getting on my nerves.

“I want to go out,”

I spat back and headed for the door, making an effort to leave, but he forcibly yanked me back, crashing me against his chest, and locked the door.

Hovering over me, he clamped onto my neck, hindering my breathing.

“How dare you?”

He growled, but I immediately pushed him away with all my force, gasping for air.

“NO, HOW DARE YOU?”

I roared back at him with equal fervour.

He stepped forward and, holding my wrists, he twisted my arm behind me.

“Anger.

Down. Now,”

He spoke, gnashing his teeth.

With the same intensity in my voice and eyes, I looked at him straight and gritted, “Leave.

My.

Hand. Now,”

Clenching his jaw firmly, he, in a rage, held my jaw with his other hand in a rugged grip.

“How dare you let him call you your wife?”

he asked, his eyes glowering with an ire so fervent.

Yet, taking the chance, I bit down hard on his thumb, close to my lips.

He hissed at the sudden move and sucked on his thumb to soothe the pain.

“Leave me,”

I struggled to get away, but he tightened his hold on my wrist.

He was hurting me, making me sob.

I couldn’t take it anymore, because his grasp almost crushed my wrist, and so, inhaling a deep breath, I expressed my agony in a steady voice,

“You are hurting me, Rudra.”

I squirmed to get loose, but he had my wrist locked in a deadly grip.

“How dare you let him call you his wife?”

He asked again, his voice deeper and serious than before.

“So what if he called me his wife? Surely he’ll make a thousand times better husband than you,”

I seethed, staring him in the eyes.

A stoic look etched onto his expression, devoid of any emotion, and in an instant, he let go of my hand.

His fingers left a crimson imprint on my wrist, and I caressed my hand to ease the ache.

A strained quiet descended into the room.

A few moments later, I looked at him, taking his steps, slowly moving closer to me.

However, moving past me, he unbolted the door, and without a word, he walked out.

I realised what I had said, feeling the sting of regret.

Tears blurred my vision, and my heart felt heavy with emotion, experiencing disappointment in him for walking away again and in myself for saying such things.

A sob escaped my lips as I watched him leave me behind again.

It aggravated me… it aggravated me immensely the way he walked away every time we were supposed to talk it out, that he chose not to resolve our issues by discussing them.

Why were our conversations always incomplete, hanging by the thread of ego and rage? Why was it that the love we felt couldn’t foster trust, respect, and a deeper connection between us? Why did he always choose to leave, and why did I continually prefer to stand numb, gazing at his back?

My hands balled into fists and I inhaled a heavy breath.

Wiping my tears away, I turned on my heels and chose to follow him.

As I marched out, I found him in the hallway.

So, going behind him, I stood before him to stop him midway.

“I’m no slave for you to drag me through the corridors down to your chamber.

I’m a woman, no object.

And above all, I am the queen of this empire.

Hence, you must learn to treat me with respect,”

I was heaving heavily while venting my anger, pointing my finger at him.

But I didn't stop because he had to know, “What we do behind closed doors in our chamber is a different matter, but I'll never tolerate such disrespectful behaviour again.

I’m your wife, so treat me like one,”

I pointed out his unruly behaviour in an unwavering and determined tone, locking eyes with him unflinchingly.

“Wife? I don't even know how many people call you their wife,”

he scoffed.

Anger caught the best of me at such a derogatory remark, and I reacted by raising my hands, landing my palm right onto his cheek, and striking his face sideways with a firm slap.

“How dare you?”

I rumbled at him breathlessly, and he broke into an abrupt laugh.

My brows knitted together as he went ballistic, laughing scornfully.

It frightened me when I saw his eyes glistening with tears while laughing, as if he were trying to cope with his anger through it.

His breathing had elevated, and his gaze became extremely cold and sharp.

He stopped laughing and bowing in front of me, and asked in a really low voice, “I apologise, Ranisa.”

His tone panged my heart with a stabbing pain.

I stared at him blankly when he added, “Now, if you allow me, may I please leave the quarters of your chamber?”

Your chamber? It's our chamber.

My lips wobbled when he turned around and walked away.

I didn’t know why, but it felt unusual.

Out of all the times he had walked away from me, this time left a different impression.

“Rudra,”

I tried to call out for him with misted eyes, but my voice emerged as an inaudible breath, impossible to reach his ears or his heart, for he was eager to distance himself from me.

“,”

Suddenly, Suman’s voice caught my attention, and I glanced back at her.

“Hey, what happened? Why are you crying? Is everything okay?”

As she held me by my shoulders.

There was an urge in her voice.

I immediately hugged her and fell apart in her arms, breaking down into wails of torment.

I cried and cried, letting out everything and allowing tears to flow freely down my face because it was unbearable—him not letting me go out and our fight over the same issue.

“It’s okay, it’s alright, don’t cry.

What happened? Did Ranaji hurt you? Did he do something?”

she asked, patting my back comfortingly, and I wept uncontrollably.

“Bhabhisa,”

Suddenly, Ranvijay’s voice caught my attention, and I pulled away from Suman to look at him.

Washing off my tears, I plastered a smile and greeted him.

“Are you okay?”

he asked, concern lacing his voice, and I nodded.

With an insistent look, he asked me again, “Really, Bhabhisa? If there’s anything you can tell me?”

I gave him an assuring smile and said, “Really, it’s nothing!”

I spotted Agastya behind him, entering the chamber in his regular clothes.

Standing in front of us, he greeted me, “Pranaam, Bhabisa.”

his sorrowful tone didn’t go unnoticed by me.

“Bhabhisa, Bhaisa has asked us to escort you wherever you want.

Please let us know how long it will take for you to get ready?”

Ranvijay informed me, and I frowned at him.

Rudra said so?

“Ranaji?”

I asked to ensure I heard it right, and they nodded in unison.

“Ji Bhabhisa! Bhaisa agreed to let you go out, accompanied by Ranvijay Bhaisa and me, along with a group of soldiers, for your safety,”

Agastya explained.

I smiled nervously, looking at the two brothers.

“Please get ready quickly, Bhabhisa.

We’ll have to be back before sunset,”

Ranvijay said, and I nodded.

“Please wait for me.

I’ll be back,”

I said, immediately rushing into the dressing room.

With Suman's help, I changed into my usual clothes as soon as possible and quickly stepped outside to find Agastya and Ranvijay waiting for me.

“I’m ready.

Let’s go,” I said.

We all left for the palace entrance, where a unit of armed soldiers, horses, and a palanquin were waiting for us.

Suman and Reva joined me, too.

Agastya and Ranvijay mounted their respective horses, and I sat in the palanquin while the convoy moved.

On our way, my thoughts kept drifting to Rudra.

I wondered what made him change his decision.

What was he thinking?

And there, I was missing him already.

With him in my head, I didn't realise we had reached the main village.

It was when Suman informed me that I stepped out of the palanquin and stood close by Agastya and Ranvijay.

“Be careful, Bhabhisa.

People might get angry seeing us,”

Agastya warned me, and the brothers positioned themselves on either side of me.

“Relax, Devarsa.

I'll be fine,”

I said and instructed the soldiers, “Just stay here and wait for us,”

“But, Bhabhisa, they’re here for your protection,”

Ranvijay intervened, and I looked at him.

“Devarsa, people might get angry seeing us accompanied by armed soldiers.

It is only right that all the soldiers stay back here.

And about my safety, I have you both,”

they nodded dubiously, and we began our parade into the village.

While promenading through the bustling lanes of the village, I watched the people indulge in their everyday chores: selling vegetables, making pottery, blacksmithing, and weaving.

The air was filled with the irresistible aroma of food cooked by the vendors in their stalls.

The noise of children playing, the chaos of babies’ cries, and buyers’ bargaining kept the atmosphere alive.

However, as soon as the people spotted us, the crowd shifted uneasily, and a heavy silence fell over them.

The ladies, once busy sweeping the sidewalks and carrying baskets, immediately walked inside their houses and locked their doors.

At the same time, the men engaged themselves in work, paying no attention to us.

The unusual tension lurking in the atmosphere made me gulp nervously.

I was clueless and in a predicament.

I didn't know where to begin or how to initiate a conversation with the villagers.

While raking my eyes around, I caught sight of an elderly lady sitting outside a house.

That was it.

Taking a deep breath, I approached her slowly.

“Pranaam,”

she glanced up at me when I greeted her.

She scrutinised me once before returning her gaze to the ground, clutching a bundle to her chest.

“Daadisa,”

I called her softly and settled beside her on the ground.

I looked at her wrinkled hands.

She seemed frail, perhaps in her seventies.

Her clothes were in terrible condition, torn and unkempt.

To put her at ease, I gently placed my hand on her trembling ones, sensing her discomfort when she slightly edged away from me.

“We bring no harm to you,”

I said.

She frowned at me, probably wondering why a royal was sitting beside her on the ground.

With a sombre expression on her face, she acknowledged my presence.

“Baisa43,”

her voice quivered with tiredness as she wobbled out the words.

I swallowed down the overwhelming feeling, hearing her sorrowful tone.

“Where do you live?”

I asked to talk to her.

She blinked at me several times, as if she were about to break down.

“Live? My son…”

Her voice was hoarse as she faltered with her words.

She looked distantly at nothing in particular, as if she were trying to recall something.

“Your son? Where is he? Why’re you sitting here?”

I asked, and suddenly, tears streamed down her face.

“Where is my son?”

she asked, looking at me.

Her raspy tone broke as though she were grieving, and I concluded she had a problem.

“Did you eat anything?”

I asked as she shook with emotion.

She abruptly shook her head.

“Food...

The crops got destroyed in the storm,”

she replied, and I turned to Ranvijay and Agastya, who were standing behind me.

“Storm?” I asked.

Ranvijay squatted beside me and said, “Bhabhisa, six months ago, a huge storm hit the village.”

I looked back at the lady and offered to accompany us.

“You should come with us.

We’ll support you,”

she shook her head in denial.

“No, no, no.

My son has told me to wait for him,”

she said, looking at me suspiciously.

I didn't know what to say; I wasn't convinced about her son.

“We’ll let you know when he’ll be back.

But where did your son go?”

I questioned, and she said, “He went; the dacoits took him.

He borrowed money and failed to repay.

They took him, and I’ve been waiting since then,”

she said, breaking into tears.

Her pain triggered my tears, and I held her hands.

“Please calm down, don't worry, we’ll take care of you,”

I tried to console her, but suddenly she shoved me back, causing me to lose my balance.

“Bhabhisa…”

Ranvijay instantly reached out to hold me, but I stopped him immediately, balancing myself on my hands.

“I’m okay.”

Even though they were both my brothers-in-law, I didn't validate any other man touching me except Rudra.

Unless it was truly necessary, I wouldn’t let anyone touch me, even if it was for help.

Regaining my composure, I looked at the elderly woman again.

I inhaled deeply and removed my gold bangles.

I handed them to her, “Just keep them for now.

Our people will come here in two days.

If your son doesn’t return by then, you’ll be coming to the palace,”

I said.

She narrowed her eyes, intently looking at the bangles.

After meeting her, I moved on to meet more ladies.

I attempted to help every woman I encountered by donating my jewelry to those in dire need.

By the end of the visit, I was left with only my toe rings, headpiece, and nose ring.

I even encountered a pregnant woman, and looking at her baby bump, I remembered that my husband was celibate and was enraged with me.

Honestly, the state of the village and the people’s condition left me astounded.

The storm devastated the peasant’s farming.

The unavailability of products caused a spike in commodity prices due to low supply and increased demand, making it impossible for extremely poor people to afford anything.

Additionally, dacoits looted the entire village.

The village tour made me realise that there was so much for the king and his pillars to do.

By the time we returned to the palace, the sun had already set, and it had become dark.

“Thank you so much, Devarsa,”

I said, looking at my brothers-in-law.

“We’re glad we could help, Bhabhisa.

This tour will help us in many ways—to form new policies and schemes for the villagers,”

Ranvijay said.

“And it’ll help me maintain the finances, too,”

Agastya said.

“But you’ve a challenging task ahead,”

I smiled weakly, and Ranvijay furrowed his brows in question.

“Is Bhaisa angry with you?”

he asked, looking at us.

Agastya nodded.

“Not exactly angry, but hurt.

I jokingly called Bhabhisa my wife for a mission, and he went insanely mad,”

Agastya answered, and Ranvijay sighed in frustration.

“What do you expect from a man who went against all odds and fought a whole Kingdom just for her? And, how dare you call her your wife? She is like our mother,”

Ranvijay angrily grabbed his collar.

“It's not his fault, Devarsa,”

I intervened.

He looked at me and released Agastya.

“By the way, Bhabhisa, if you can’t find him anywhere, the light of the moon and the shade of the stars might help you,”

he said, puzzling my mind.

“What?”

I looked at him, perplexed, and he gave a soft smile.

“Well, you’ll have to figure that out,”

and with that, they both took their leave.

I tried to comprehend his words when Suman’s voice reached me.

“, I believe you should take a bath before dinner.”

I nodded, and we both headed toward my chamber.

On our way, I asked an attendee about Rudra’s whereabouts.

“Ranisa, I apologise, but we are unaware of Ranaji’s whereabouts.

The last time we saw him was in the late morning,”

she replied, bowing her head.

I nodded, dismissing her.

I kept replaying in my head where he might be.

It wasn’t that I was missing him, but I… I just had a few matters to discuss with him.

After taking a quick bath and changing into my nightgown, I ambled out to find my dinner already served on the table.

Even though I wished to have dinner with my dearest husband, my stomach rumbled with hunger.

Giving up on waiting for him, I sat down to eat.

My mind was in a state of turmoil.

I didn’t want to pursue him any longer.

There was no point in doing so if our feelings weren’t mutual.

I agree that he opened up to me about his feelings and expressed his love for me in words, but somehow it didn't seem sufficient since actions speak louder than words.

Moreover, his actions were often contradictory to his words.

There were a few of his habits that I entirely detested.

First and foremost, the way he always grabbed me by my neck in rage.

And to add to that, he unintentionally and unnecessarily disrespected me.

I loved him, no doubt, but not at the cost of my self-respect.

When I married him, I didn't consider my self-respect because my love was more important than anything at that time.

But now, as his wife and a queen, I wanted him to treat me well.

It is not wrong to expect respect from the one we love dearly and who claims to love us.

He said he loved me, but his actions weren’t exactly what I would call love.

The way he dragged me all the way from the palace’s entrance to our chamber hurt me, and that was not love.

And, the way he accused me of how many men call me their wife was the final blow.

I lost it right there.

Never in my life have I trusted any man or allowed any man to even lay his eyes on me, let alone touch me, not even a friend, except for my family.

I accept that what I did before our marriage was an impulsive decision.

It wasn’t something an ideal princess was supposed to do, but that did not mean I wasn't loyal, and that definitely did not mean he could question my character.

While having dinner, I kept pondering his behavior.

One part of me was adamant about not talking to him, but the other part was desperate to see if he was okay.

However, the sensible part of me won.

As a queen, I had matters to discuss with him that required our immediate attention.

By the time I finished eating and washed my hands, the night had grown darker, and it was time to sleep.

So, I went to the courtyard to check for him, but strangely, he wasn't there.

Furrowing my brows, I bit my lower lip, wondering where he could be.

Suddenly, the thought of him being in the library crossed my mind.

Turning on my heels, I picked up a hand lantern and sauntered towards the library.

The bells of my anklets resonated through the path, as everyone had already gone to bed.

I stopped in front of the library door, and after inhaling deeply, I pushed it open.

The creaking noise of the heavy doors echoed through the empty hallways, causing my heart to race slightly.

Clenching the fabric of my gown, I stepped inside, where the warm caress of inviting candlelight and the lingering fragrance of oud and sandalwood greeted me.

As I walked further in, I saw him sitting in the chair.

The dim, golden light flickered across his face as he leaned over the table, reading some papers.

Slowly placing the lantern on the table nearby, I cleared my throat to make my presence known, although my anklets must’ve already done so.

I patiently waited for his reaction for a few moments, but it was like he didn’t hear me, or perhaps he heard me, but turned a deaf ear.

A sudden wave of cold anxiety washed over me.

My fingers twitched as I realised he was still mad at me.

Standing just a few feet away, I swallowed nervously and called him softly, “Suniye,” (Listen.)

“Ji, Ranisa, kahiye, kaisa seva karein hum aapki?”

(Yes, your majesty, how may I help you?) The outright formality in his tone made me flinch.

I hesitated for a brief moment to utter anything.

Biting on my lower lip, I said, “I came to speak of the drafts I prepared for the renovations needed in the servants’ quarters.”

My eyes landed on the very papers on the edge of my side of the table.

“Yes, Ranisa, don't worry.

I have already approved of them,”

He briefed me in, his voice steady and polite, but distant.

Stepping further in, I added, “And there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“You have my undivided attention,”

his words, yet his eyes were unwavering on the papers.

I couldn't read his expressions or tell what he was feeling.

I didn’t know if he was angry or uninterested, or indeed busy.

And that made my blood run cold.

Taking a deep breath, I reported the village visit to him.

“While on my tour to the village, I encountered many people who needed our immediate attention.

There are complaints of dacoits raiding the village often.

And the storm that hit the land a few months ago left nothing for the people, even in the name of hope.

It caused an immense decline in the economy and has adversely affected the people,”

The room hung in heavy silence, and the sound of him flipping the pages made me acutely aware.

“Rest assured, your majesty, we will soon start working on reconstructing the outskirts of the palace.

I have already appointed a unit of soldiers in the village to keep an eye on the dacoits, and the moment we are done with the overview of the resources, we will distribute the required commodities to the villagers,”

he spoke with impeccable courtesy.

His answer was concise, convincing, yet very formal and serious.

“Alright, thank you!”

I said, shaking my head.

“Good Night, Ranisa,”

I gulped at his reply.

He spoke as if we were not husband and wife.

Ironically, it had been less than a day, and my heart already longed for the side of him that gave me weird nicknames and made sarcastic remarks.

To keep the continuity of the conversation, I asked, “You’re not coming to bed?”

Placing the previous papers on the table, he took another document in his hands and began going through it, not sparing a look at me.

“Pardon me, Ranisa, but I have work to do.

I suggest you take a rest; you might be exhausted after the visit.”

It stung me.

The detachment in his tone, his neglect of my presence, and his cold behavior hurt me deeply.

I kept fidgeting with the strings of my overcoat to cope with the anxiety that grew inside me in response to his silence.

A part of me argued for leaving the room, recalling how he had treated me earlier.

The other part was consumed by the regret of slapping him.

I didn't know what to say, so I asked him directly.

“Aap kab tak humse yun rusht rahenge?”

(How long are you going to be upset with me?)

Finally, he tilted his head up and glanced at me.

His lips curved into something I wouldn't call a smile, and his expression was unreadable.

“Bhala hum kaun hote hain aapse rusht hone wale? Humein kya adhikaar ki hum aapse rusht ho jaayein, Ranisa?”

(Who am I to be upset with you? What right would I have to get angry with you, Ranisa?) He replied, and tears brimmed in my eyes.

“Aap aisa kyun rahe hain?”

(Why are you saying so?) He smiled a little and lowered his gaze back to the papers.

“To aap humein bata dijiye ki humein kya kehna hai aur kya nahi.

Paristhithi ke anukool, humaare paas kaunse adhikaar hai or kaunse nahi,”

(So enlighten me, your majesty, tell me what I should say and what I should not.

Depending on the circumstances, what rights do I have and what I do not?) He asked, his smooth words slicing through my heart.

“Rudra,”

I approached his side of the table, and he inclined his head to look at me.

“Ji, Ranisa-”

I immediately cut him off.

“Stop calling me that.”

He nodded slightly and went back to reading the papers.

“Whatever you prefer,”

I gulped and did not know what to say.

Slowly stepping closer to him, I looked at the papers scattered on the table.

“What are you doing, by the way?”

He remained still, not answering my question, and I leaned close to his ear.

“I know you’re upset with me, and I agree I shouldn't have slapped you,”

I surrendered, and he looked up at me.

“No, it wasn't wrong of you.

I deserved it, because I was wrong.

I’ve always been wrong.

You can try to marry my uncle for revenge, but when I objected, I was wrong.

My brother jokingly calls you his wife. I objected, I am wrong,”

His fingers were tightly curled around the paper, and suddenly he chuckled bitterly.

“I don't even know who I am,”

he kept chuckling, shaking his head.

“You’re my husband and you know it,”

he began laughing, a dry, emotionless laughter.

“Alright,”

he said, biting the inside of his cheek to restrain his laughter.

“Jokes apart, there’s so much work to be done, so if you could please leave, I’d be truly grateful,”

he added, and I moved all the papers on the table.

“No, I will not.

Either you are coming with me to bed or I’m staying here with you,”

I said, perching myself on the table, sitting right in front of him.

He leaned back on the chair, placed his hands on the armrest, and stared at me.

Dropping the veil of shame, fear, and doubt, I looked him in the eyes, tilting my head slightly and resting my palms on either side of me.

It was an intense, heated battle between our eyes.

I moved forward, intending to stand, but he beat me to it.

Clasping the edge of the table beside my thighs, he tried to rise to his feet, but I immediately pressed my foot flat against his chest and shoved him back into the chair.

The sound of my anklets resonated in the hushed library, elevating the tension blazing between us.

I could feel the muscles of his chest flexing beneath my foot.

With a firm push, I pressed him further back and whispered softly yet steadily, with a finality in my tone, “We're not getting out of this room until we sort things out.

None of us is perfect.

You make mistakes, I make mistakes.

We cannot survive without each other.

Our unity is our strength. We have a long way ahead, Ranaji. We cannot let our enemies sense our differences and give them a chance to break us apart.”

The way I could feel his heart pulsating fast through my feet made me realize that I was beginning to unmask his facade of politeness and break his restraint.

His chest puffed up as he inhaled deeply and landed his gaze on my foot.

Slowly, he trailed his fingers on my foot, playing with my toe rings, but suddenly jerked my foot away to stand up.

“I’m done making a team with you.

You play your part, and I play mine,”

he said, and I strongly forced him back again, causing the wooden chair to squeak as it slid against the floor.

I could feel the air thickening, coiling us in an undeniable warmth.

“And one of those parts says to listen to your wife,”

I muttered, curling my lips lightly.

“That’s the point, you’re not just my wife,”

he said, and I glared at him, clenching my jaw.

“Now, you’re going beyond the boundaries,”

I gritted.

He chuckled, “With you, my little wife.”

Reclining his head on the backrest, he added, “I know no boundaries.”

I gulped at his remark.

“He’s your brother.

And it wasn’t deliberate; we just needed to hide our true identities to get through the checkpoint,”

I explained.

Holding my gaze steadily, he asked, “What if I call Suman my wife on the same grounds?”

An instant surge of rage erupted within me, and I thrust my heel hard against his chest.

“Dare you say so, and I’ll let you know,”

He smiled.

“Exactly! You cannot bear any woman, even your best friend, being called as my wife for an act.

Likewise, I, too, cannot bear any man calling you their wife, even if it is my brother, for a secret mission, as a joke, or as an act.

I don’t care, Ranisa,”

he stated.

“But, you can’t be jealous because of your little brother's joke,”

I retorted, and suddenly he pushed my leg aside and hovered over me.

He instantly pulled me closer by my neck and breathed on my face, “You are not a joke, you’re my wife, my queen, my everything.

And when I say you're mine, I don't mean in a way I have a possession over you, in terms of power.

It means that your heart beats just and just for me, that there’s no man who, even jokingly, can call you his, not even in his dreams.

Be it my uncle, my brother or anyone,”

my lips parted, feeling suffocated, and I blinked with an urge.

“And, you have to promise me that you will never treat me like a slave.

The way you dragged me to our chamber hurt me,”

I choked on my words, and his grip tightened on my neck.

“I don’t do slaves, little wife.

The only hand I ever held, of a woman, is yours.

And the next time I’ll not be dragging you, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and bring you back if you try to sneak out of the palace without my awareness, understand?”

he questioned, inching closer, and I nodded rapidly.

“Yes,”

I said, and he loosened his hold on me.

I gasped for air, trying to steady my breath.

His anger had calmed down, and his eyes softened.

He gently kissed my forehead and let his lips linger briefly.

My lashes forced closed as he mumbled, “I love you so much.

I just got angry and anxious seeing you sneaking out like that.

I worried that if I had not caught you, I might’ve lost you.”

My eyes turned moist, and touching his cheek, I slowly murmured, “And I’m sorry for not trusting you and slapping you.”

He softly caressed my neck with his thumb and said, “I told you, you can do whatever you want, but not like this.” I nodded.

Looking into my eyes, he pressed his lips against mine and gently sucked on my lower lip for several moments.

Pulling away, he rested his forehead against mine and panted heavily.

“You’re making me needy, little death-bed.

And, I want to punish you, so bad, right this moment,”

he said, making my insides flip.

Pecking my lips once, he receded his steps and commanded, “Undress, now.”

***