Page 48

I woke up the next morning beside him and turned lazily to look at his sleeping face.

He looked so peaceful.

I couldn’t resist pecking his cheek.

As I did, he stirred and took a deep breath, slowly opening his eyes.

“Good morning, love,”

he murmured, drawing me even closer than I already was.

The comfort of our foreheads touching, of just being with him, filled me with a calm joy.

“Good morning, Ranaji,”

I said softly.

He smiled, looking into my eyes.

“You know how to seduce me best,” he said.

I blinked, confused. “What?”

“By behaving like a good wife, which you’re not,”

he teased.

I burst into laughter and he kissed my cheek before whispering in my ear, “Laugh like this when you are there, bird, so they’ll know I keep you happy, not hurt,”

I narrowed my eyes.

“So that’s the assignment?”

“Yes,”

he smirked.

I threw off the comforter and stood up dramatically.

“Alright! I’m the happiest person in the world!”

He chuckled.

“Just don’t overact,”

I shot him a glare.

“Trust me, I’m the best actor of this century.

No one can tell if I’m acting or not,”

He laughed.

“Yes, I remember the banana drama and how your parents left the dining area because of your ‘fantastic’ performance,”

I made a face and threw a pillow at him.

“You’re the worst motivator!”

He laughed harder, pulling me close to him.

“Aww, my little actress,”

I jerked his hand away and crossed my arms.

“I want to go back home,”

I said, feigning anger, and he immediately sat up, turning serious.

“Yes, you should.

You’re not the person I thought you’d be,”

“What?! How dare you!”

I gasped in mock offence, stepping toward him.

“You’re just a spoiled, brainless, and stubborn princess,”

he said, trying to suppress a grin.

“And what do you think you are?”

I countered.

“Your husband,”

he replied, and we both burst into laughter.

“You ruined the practice, Rudra!”

I said, still laughing as I collapsed beside him.

“You’re glowing now,”

he said, laughing his heart out.

Before our marriage, we had to hide our relationship, and pretending in front of others became our secret game.

We would slip into acting anytime, just with a look.

That’s how our bond grew, through secrecy, mischief, and love.

“I love you, ,”

he said suddenly, and my laughter died.

I cupped his cheek and kissed him gently.

“I want you to make love to me… to your heart’s content… when I return,”

I whispered near his ear.

His eyes darkened as he whispered back, “As you say, my queen,”

We spoke for a while longer, holding hands, before I finally rose from the bed.

“I have to get ready,”

I said, tossing my braid behind me as I walked toward the bathing room.

But he grabbed my hand.

“Let me have the pleasure, little dove,”

I giggled. “What?”

I couldn't help but blush as I felt the heat rushing to my cheeks.

Before I could say anything more, he lifted me into his arms.

“Let me help you get ready,”

he said, carrying me to the bathing room.

I laughed softly as he set me down.

My eyes flickered toward the attendants, who were scattering flower petals into the bath.

“Privacy,”

he ordered in a slow voice, and the attendants quietly left.

My heart fluttered as I looked at him.

“Are you planning to… bathe with me?”

I asked timidly.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he pulled off his kurta, revealing his strong chest. “Yes,”

he finally said.

My thoughts flashed back to that night, his body moving above mine, the way he made me feel completely undone, thrusting into me, making me moan senselessly.

“Come,”

he said, snapping me out of the memory.

He stepped closer and turned me around, gently pushing my braid aside.

His fingers tugged at the strings of my blouse, one by one.

I could feel my breath catching, and I inhaled deeply as the fabric loosened and slipped from my shoulders.

When his palm grazed my skin to push the blouse lower, I blushed profusely, my heart racing.

He pulled the blouse off and wrapped his arms around me from behind.

The warm air on my bare skin, the feel of his chest against my back, it all made me tremble with anticipation, turning me wet.

His big, wide hands raked against my waist from behind and reached toward the knot of my skirt.

While he was untying the strings, his lips brushed against my temples, and my lashes fluttered with the feeling as he slowly pushed the skirt down, letting it pool at my feet.

I closed my eyes briefly, standing completely exposed to him.

“Rudra,”

I breathed, and he hummed deeply.

“Hnn-hnn,”

And it made a thousand butterflies flap their wings in my stomach, coaxing a timid smile from me.

He wrapped the bathing cloth around me, and I immediately held it against my front, turning toward him.

“Kya baat hai Ranaji, aaj apni patni par bada prem aa raha hai aapko,”

(What's the matter, your Majesty, today you’re feeling a lot of love for your wife.) I asked, as he was undoing my braid.

“Apni patni ko prem jataane ke liye kisi kaaran ka hona aawashyak nahi, Ranisa,”

(I don’t need a reason to show love to my wife now, do I, your Highness?) he retorted, and pushed my now open hair behind.

He guided me toward the pool, gently holding my wrist.

Even though my heart raced with nervous excitement, I followed him quietly.

He stepped into the warm water first, and I slowly dipped my feet in, feeling it rise up to my knees.

I moved to sit beside him as he sat down, but he surprised me by pulling me onto his lap.

I gasped at the sudden motion, the water rippling around us.

He parted my legs slightly and pulled me closer, the shift making me feel exposed.

My damp cloth slipped lower, revealing myself completely to him, and I just stared at him, my lips slightly parted.

Our chests touched, and I gave him a shy smile as his forehead rested against mine.

His arms wrapped around me, melting into the comfort of his warmth and love.

Without a word, he began applying the fragrant bathing paste to my arms.

I tried to protest, “You know you don’t have to—”

“Hnnn-hnnn,”

he hummed, a sound that made a shiver run down my spine.

He pressed a soft kiss to my neck, and I gasped, the warmth of it curling heat through me.

He looked at me, still rubbing the paste along my arms, his gaze deep and steady.

His fingers slid slowly from my wrist up to my shoulder, his large hands easily cupping the length of my arm.

When he reached my shoulder and added a bit more pressure, my lashes fluttered closed.

And my body trembled under his touch.

Then his hands moved forward, to my neck.

He cupped it gently, and a strong shiver shot through me, making my head fall back with a breathy moan.

My heart was pounding as he leaned in and kissed the corner of my lips.

I closed my eyes again, breathing deeply to calm myself.

When I opened them, I saw the small smile tugging at his lips, and I lowered my gaze, feeling timid.

“You’re spoiling me, you know,”

I whispered.

His hands slid lower, rubbing across my skin, stopping just before my chest, he hummed, “Hnnn-hnnn,”

That throaty tone stirred my insides, erupting a huge wave of sensation that washed over me.

And I knew—I knew he does that when he’s either speechlessly mesmerised or utterly aroused.

But suddenly, he withdrew his hand, depriving my breasts of his touch, and that made me feel oddly disappointed.

So, without thinking, I gently took his wrists and guided his hands toward my neck.

He didn’t resist.

His palms were rough and warm against my skin as they moved slowly down to my chest.

And I shivered, blinking rapidly as he gently pressed my bosom.

Then, suddenly, he pulled away.

He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes.

“We shouldn't,”

he said, voice low and heavy with restraint.

“We should wait until you’re back,”

“Why?”

I asked, almost too softly.

His eyes opened, and he looked at me, intense and honest.

“Because I won’t be able to control myself next time, ,”

My stomach twisted, and I could only manage a breathless, “Oh,”

He touched my chin and gently tilted my face toward him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,”

Those words, so simple yet full of meaning, hit something deep inside me.

I had heard them before, from my parents and others, but it felt like a vow when he said them.

A promise that he would protect me, even from himself.

I felt there was something he wasn’t telling me, something that made him hesitate.

I had tried before to get him to open up, but the words never came.

“I know,”

I whispered, plastering a slight smile on my face.

Suddenly, he pulled me into his arms again.

My hands braced against his biceps, and I looked at him, startled.

“I don’t like it when you go quiet like this,” he said.

“Quiet like what?” I asked.

“Like you're planning something for me,”

he said, bringing our faces closer, our noses touching each other’s.

I smiled and shook my head.

“Why would I? I’m not that clever,”

He pulled back a little, his brows furrowed. “What?”

I laughed lightly.

“I just meant, I’m a terrible liar.

If I were planning anything, you’d see it on my face,”

He smiled.

“You’re my pure little wife.

The best wife.

The best woman in the world,”

I chuckled.

“People should learn how to lie from you,”

He pulled me closer, hands raking down my back until our bare bodies were fully pressed together.

“I’m not lying, little bird,”

Just as he leaned in to kiss below my ear, I placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back gently.

“I’m getting late,”

He chuckled, and I slipped off his lap to finish bathing.

After wrapping myself in a fresh cotton cloth, I stepped out of the pool, and he followed, his lower body draped in a white towel.

As I entered the dressing room, I noticed a beautiful red outfit paired with stunning jewellery.

I blinked in surprise, turning to look at him.

“All this?”

He stepped closer.

“Humne aapko muh dikhaai nahi di na abhi tak.

To yeh joda aur zewar humaari oar se aapke ke liye ek chota sa upahaar,”

(I haven't given you anything for your welcome gift.

So this dress and jewellery are a small token of love from me.)

I looked at the set again.

“It’s beautiful, but Rudra...

you could’ve donated the money for the people's welfare.

I already have enough dresses and jewellery,”

He walked up behind me and gently guided me toward the mirror.

I saw myself—hair wet and hanging past my hips, water droplets sliding down my shoulders, the translucent cloth clinging to me.

My body looked fragile and glowing in the soft light.

He gently moved my hair aside, tilting my neck with the motion.

“This was bought from my own savings, .

Everything I’ve saved in my life, this is where I wanted it to go,” he said.

And hearing him, tears welled up in my eyes without warning.

His words struck something deep within me, and I turned numb.

Unbidden, the fragments of his past began flashing through my mind, and silent tears slid down my cheeks as I managed to whisper, “What?”

I turned to look at him and saw him smiling softly.

He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to my lips before saying, “Yes, I saved all that money to build a fortune for myself and my family.

But after our wedding, I realised...

my fortune, my destiny, my purpose, everything begins and ends with you.

God knows what would’ve happened if your mother had married my father. I would’ve never found my . My little wife, who holds the power to tame me, control me, scare me... love me, and care for me,”

Tears streamed down more freely now, and I closed my eyes as he gently gathered me into a hug.

“Ab isme ashru bahaane jaisi to koi baat hi nahi thi, humaari dharmpatniji,”

(There’s nothing in it to cry over, my little wife.) he teased gently, and I lifted my head with a smile.

“It's really beautiful.

Thank you.

I’ll treasure this till my last breath,”

I said, and he chuckled.

“Now, I’m the King.

I’ll surely get you many more clothes, my love,”

he said proudly.

I shook my head with a small smile.

“Wo sab to Ranaji ki bhent hogi, ye to humaare Rudra ka upahaar hai,”

(All those will be gifts from the king, but this one is from my Rudra.)

His eyes lit up with that warmth again.

He smiled and kissed my lips gently before saying, “Go try it on,”

I lowered my gaze and replied softly, “Aap laaye hain to aap hi pehna dijiye,”

(You brought it...

now you should help me wear it too.)

He smiled, a bit shyly this time.

“Yes, sure,”

I turned my back on him and faced the mirror.

With a breath of courage, I let the cotton cloth slip off my body, revealing my bare, damp skin in the sunlight streaming through the window.

My heartbeat thudded in my ears, my body trembling at its boldness, but there was also comfort in this moment.

With him, I felt safe.

I often wondered why clothes became such an inseparable part of life, when in love, they’re the first things to fall.

Maybe it’s because we all hide our vulnerabilities, fears, and weaknesses, just like we hide our bodies in them.

And to create life, God designed it so that we must shed those layers, as if to remind us that love must be honest and raw.

We are our vulnerabilities, weaknesses, fears we hide from the world.

And, by revealing our bodies to our beloved, we share all of this, so we’re not left alone in this world. So, there’ll be someone who’ll know the actual us.

To be truly known, to be truly loved, we must first be vulnerable.

And not everyone is lucky enough to experience that.

Some shred clothes for lust, not to see the soul, but to consume the body.

But love...

love needs no perfect skin, no glow. It seeks the trembling, the softness, the truth.

I saw him approach me, his gaze reverent and gentle.

The sunlight danced on my skin, and I felt his presence behind me.

He leaned in and took the skirt from my hand.

“Wait,”

I managed to say, my throat running dry with the intense heat building between us.

I reached back, gathering my wet hair and twisting it into a bun.

His gaze froze on me as I moved.

Then, as I lifted my arms, he placed his hand gently on my waist, palm resting softly on my stomach.

His touch didn’t spark tingles this time; it spread warmth.

It was a touch of protection, of quiet love.

As I reached for a pin on the table to secure my bun, he kissed my shoulder tenderly.

Once done, I picked up the in-skirt.

“This one is first,”

I said, handing it to him.

He nodded, fumbling with it slightly.

“Through my head,”

I guided him, smiling.

He slipped it over my head and let it fall around my waist.

His fingers worked at the strings, and I adjusted the hem.

“Here,” I said.

He tied the first knot gently.

“Tighter, Ranaji,”

I instructed, and watched his long fingers tug the strings more firmly.

His naked chest was pressed to my back, his chin lightly resting on my shoulder.

My breath caught, and my skin turned sensitive, nipples erect with desire, feeling an immense hunger for his rough touch.

I held still as he secured it.

I picked up the blouse next and handed it to him.

He looked at it with mild surprise.

The blouse had three-fourths sleeves and a small neck, and it wasn't backless.

“Seems like someone doesn’t like my backless blouses,”

I said with a smirk

He gave a soft laugh.

“Definitely,”

I raised a brow. “Why?”

He slid my arms through the sleeves, helping me adjust it over my chest.

“I don’t like everyone seeing my beautiful wife,”

he murmured, tying the knots under the side of my arms.

“But I like the way I dress,”

I said gently.

“I like it too.

But… why backless?”

he asked, as if a baby were complaining.

I lifted my arms slightly so he could finish tying it.

“Because it makes me feel beautiful.

Confident,”

I admitted.

He leaned in and kissed my arm.

“That’s wonderful.

And for me, you're beautiful no matter what you wear—or don’t wear.

One day, when you're gone, the world won’t remember how you dressed.

But they will remember Queen , the woman who built shelters and saved lives,”

I smiled softly at his words. “Wow,”

I giggled a little, feeling its warmth.

“Where were all these lessons when you left me?”

I asked quietly.

His smile faded.

A beat of silence passed before he answered.

“Coated in a selfish reason…”

The pause was heavy.

Then he continued, “...Not everyone is born evil, .

Circumstances make them.

Children aren’t born thieves; poverty turns them.

People don’t come into the world as liars; insecurity breeds that. What we become... isn’t about gender, caste, religion, or upbringing. It’s about what life throws at us. Even the strongest empires fall when faced with the storm,”

I slowly turned to look at him, his words sitting heavily between us.

My eyes gazed into his, and I gently raised my palm to his cheek.

I brushed my thumb across his lips and whispered, “I know, Rudra.

I know.

That’s why I love you so much.

Because you weren’t born that way,”

He nodded softly.

“Remember, no one is.

When it comes to asking, keep your expectations small.

But when it comes to giving, make your heart the biggest, my love,”

I nodded, tears forming without reason I could understand.

I couldn’t stop myself from lifting up, trying to reach his lips.

But the final few centimetres of distance remained, and I murmured, breathless, “Kiss me, please,”

My breathing deepened.

“Make me smell like you… Please,”

I whispered, and he slowly leaned in.

His lips captured mine, sucking them softly.

He pulled me closer, cupping my neck with care.

After a moment, he pulled away and gazed into my eyes.

His fingers traced my cheek, and I felt like crying.

“Kis maya se mohit kar diya hai aapne humein, Rudra?”

(What spell have you cast on me, Rudra?) I said, as a tear escaped.

He wiped it away, his own eyes shining.

“I may have done the magic… but you're the witch,”

I burst into laughter, even as more tears fell.

Turning away, I tried to catch my breath.

“Come on, finish what you started, Ranaji,”

He grinned.

“Wow… a new nickname—witch,”

I smiled back.

He picked up the lehenga, slipping it over my head and letting it fall around my waist.

The moment I saw myself, I gasped—amazed, shocked, glowing with happiness.

“It’s extravagant, Rudra,”

“The only one of its kind—made just for Ranisa,”

he said, tightening the strings at my waist.

“It’s so heavy!”

I said, trying to move into it.

“Is it?”

he teased, and I nodded.

“Yes… and I wonder if you’ll still be able to lift me.

I must have doubled in weight,”

And without warning, he swept me into his arms.

I gasped, eyes wide. “Rudra!”

“Even if you doubled in weight, I’d still carry you,”

he said, kissing my cheek.

“Now put me down,”

I laughed breathlessly, and he gently did.

I caught my breath and looked at myself in the mirror again.

The deep red made me glow.

He stepped closer and kissed the side of my head.

“Let me dry your hair,”

he said gently.

I smiled as he pulled the bun loose.

My wet hair cascaded down to my hips, and he picked up the white cotton cloth and began to pat it dry.

“You need to part it and comb,”

I instructed, and he nodded.

I handed him the wide-toothed wooden comb.

“In small sections.

That way it won’t break,”

“Okay,”

he said, so soft and attentive it melted me.

Watching him care for me like this felt surreal.

If anyone had told me at our wedding that this same man would one day comb my hair with such tenderness, I would’ve laughed.

But now… now I saw how deeply he loved me.

Still, a quiet voice inside wondered—was all this love and affection also born from guilt?

I watched him silently as he made small sections and dried my hair, occasionally using the ash pot for warmth and fragrance.

It took time, but he was patient.

After drying it all, he started combing with such care, his fingers dancing gently through the strands.

“You have really beautiful hair, little bird,”

he said with a smile.

I looked at him in the mirror and smiled softly.

“You know, , I never saw your hair open before our wedding,”

“Really?” I asked.

He nodded with a hum, and when he finished combing, I said, “You have to braid it now, or it’ll get messed up during travel,”

“Alright,”

he agreed and began parting it into three sections.

“You know how to braid?”

I asked, amazed.

“Yes,”

he said confidently.

“Wow.

When did you learn that?”

“I have a little sister.

She’s ten years younger than I.

She didn’t have a mother, so I used to braid her hair every day,”

I frowned slightly.

“She’s not your real sister, right?”

“Ah, no.

But she’s more than that.

She’s the daughter of my Guruji,”

I turned slightly to look at him.

“Your Guruji has a daughter?”

He smiled.

“Yes.

Can’t he?”

I chuckled nervously.

“Yes, yes, of course he can,”

He paused, then added quietly, “She’s adopted.

Guruji found her by the river… someone had abandoned her,”

Something twisted in my stomach.

I could barely imagine someone doing that to a child.

“Oh…”

was all I could manage.

He finished the braid and smiled.

“Time for the jewellery,”

He leaned over me from behind and reached for the necklace—a stunning piece of gold, studded with emerald.

When he placed it against my neck, I gasped.

“It’s so beautiful.

I’ve never seen anything like it,”

He pushed my braid aside.

“I managed to get it from another continent,” he said.

My eyes widened.

“What? You have links with other continents?”

He fastened the choker and hummed through the mirror, “Hmm-hmm,”

I was still stunned as he picked up a set of bangles.

Stepping in front of me, he extended his hand.

I placed my wrist in his palm, and he gently slid the bangles on.

Tears filled my eyes again—too many emotions all at once.

He moved to my other hand and slid the red bangles on.

Then, holding my hand delicately, he kissed the back of it and leaned close to my ear.

His voice dropped to a whisper, “You look so tempting...

I want to take you so hard, you’ll scream my name at the top of your lungs,”

It had my heart racing, and my eyes widened at the audacity of his words.

He brought his face back, and there was no trace of a joke in his expression.

I looked at him, hopelessly enchanted, like a love-struck bee drawn to a dark, mysterious rose, thorny but blooming with intoxicating sweetness.

“When?”

I whispered.

His thumb grazed my lower lip, and I felt a nervous shiver pass through me.

My cheeks burned under the heat building inside.

“Soon,”

he murmured, brushing his lips gently over mine.

I blinked at him, my core soaked, my thoughts slipping away as memories of our first time began to swirl in my mind, stirring a familiar ache deep within.

“How many days does your 'soon' have?”

I asked softly.

He chuckled and turned to pick up the armlets.

“,”

he said, trying to move past the question.

“Rudra,”

I called him again, my voice low as I touched his chin to bring his gaze back.

“I’m asking when,”

The smile faded from his face.

His eyes dipped slightly, a shadow of something heavy hidden beneath.

He feathered his fingers over my skin, gently, almost hesitantly, then looked up.

“I don’t know,”

he admitted, and I lowered my eyes.

A tear rolled down my cheek.

But I tried not to break.

“So, what have you two decided for me?”

I asked quietly.

He stepped closer, but placed my hand on his chest.

“,”

he said, trying to soothe me.

I met his eyes.

“What did you and the Prince of Mahabaleshgarh decide for me, Ranaji?”

My voice wavered.

He shook his head.

“Hey...

don’t say it like that,”

“Then tell me, what am I supposed to do there?”

“Enjoy,”

he said.

“Spend time with your family,”

“And?” I asked.

He took a deep breath.

“And be happy,”

I laughed bitterly, a tear escaping from my eyes.

“Be happy,”

I repeated, almost mockingly.

The silence that followed stretched heavily between us.

Then it broke, and with it, so did I.

“You know what? Neither of you cares about my happiness, not even a little.

You both think I’m a child who doesn’t know what she wants.

You decided I shouldn’t marry the old King, he decided I shouldn’t marry you, and now you’ve both decided I should pretend nothing happened and go home.

If either of you had truly cared, you wouldn’t have done what you did, or what you're still doing,”

I exclaimed.

His jaw clenched.

“So, what do you want?”

he snapped.

“Do you want me to declare war? To say, No, Abhinandan, I will not let your sister go.

She is mine and she will stay with me?”

My nostrils flared.

“No, Rudra.

You could’ve just said it’s ’s decision.

Or maybe he could have come here if he wanted to meet me! Why does it always have to be me? Why do women always have to be the ones to make everything right?”

He grabbed my waist, pulling me close.

“This isn’t about men or women, ,”

he said, voice low and full of heat.

“I’m sacrificing too.

I’m sending away my heart and soul with you.

Why can’t you see that?”

Our eyes locked, flashing extreme anger, but more than that, longing.

A deep, helpless yearning.

I inhaled shakily, my heart pounding as we stood there, burning with everything unsaid.

And then...

I looked at him, intentionally, into his eyes.

My gaze softened, my lips quivered as they parted ever so slightly, and I let myself catch my breath.

Slowly, I dropped my gaze to his lips, once, twice, then off to the side, pretending to resist, making sure he understood what I was yearning for.

But the third time I looked into his eyes, he pulled me closer as he saw it. He knew.

“You little seductress,”

he growled before crashing his lips to mine, clutching onto my nape.

A smile flickered on my lips as his urgency consumed me.

The kiss turned desperate, tenderness swallowed by need.

I melted into him, my entire body aching with desire.

“Take me now...

I don’t want to wait,”

I whispered between our kisses.

He paused, warning in his eyes.

“It’ll hurt,”

But I pushed him gently back into the chair, breathless and bold.

“Nothing will hurt more than being away from you,”

I said, voice shaking.

Things shifted quickly from pure emotions to lust for each other.