• The Silent Cage •
The time bled away in a painful silence inside the stone walls of the chamber.
No one laid a hand on Dilshana. No one dragged her through the mud or locked her in a pitch-black dungeon. She was given food, a bed, and a chamber. yet the quiet surrounding her was far more brutal than any physical assault.
Not a single human face crossed her threshold all day. Not a voice echoed down the hall. She was now stranded in the very heart of enemy territory.
The isolation clawed at her mind until she found herself staring blankly at the walls for hours, watching the shifting light through the window, or gazing out at the high garden trees that locked her in.
As she sat curled up on the bed of her new cage, tears fell silently down her cheeks, unchecked and unheeded.
Kalavati's malicious voice suddenly echoed in her ears like a cruel chant.
"Keep her with you for a few days if you have taken a liking to her."
Dilshana closed her eyes tightly, a shudder running through her chest as those degrading words tore through her mind all over again. That was the moment she had surrendered and accepted the marriage.
A brutal realization had struck her back then. Agnijeet was the feared Commander of Mewar; he could have crushed her beneath his power at any given second, and not a single soul would have dared to step forward to stop him.
She had recognized the cruel reality of her situation.
With or without marriage, Agnijeet was her most terrifying threat. But he was not the only danger. Being his concubine or a helpless captive left her vulnerable to every predatory eye in the fortress. But being the wedded wife of the Commander meant that no man in the realm would ever have the audacity to even lift his eyes toward her.
She had not chosen him out of surrender. She had simply chosen to be the wife of the Commander rather than his mistress or a mere prey to his lust.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, a tiny spark of hope flickered in her chest. She found herself staring at the doors, waiting for Kumud.
She didn't care about the food, she just longed to see a familiar face, to hear another human voice, even if only for a brief moment. Every faint sound in the corridor made her heart leap, waiting for the iron lock to click open.
"Tum zaroor aaogi, Kumud..." she muttered to herself, her eyes wide with desperate expectation. "Tumne toh hamare dard ko samjha tha na? Khuda ke vaaste, sirf ek baar hamara naam pukaar lo..."
(You will definitely come, Kumud... You understood my pain, didn't you? For God's sake, just call my name one single time...)
The heat inside the room began to feel oppressive, mixing with the anxiety in her chest. She decided to step into the bath area.
She filled the deep stone pool with cool water and stepped inside. The water washed over her skin, but it brought no relief. She sat submerged, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees.
Her head throbbed with confusion, fear, and a desperate yearning for her home, her people, her past that felt millions of miles away now.
Realizing she hadn't brought any change of clothes, a tired thought crossed her mind.
Who is going to see me anyway? I am completely alone.
She wrapped a soft cotton sheet around her body, tucking it securely over her chest, and stepped back out into the main chamber.
Her eyes immediately landed on table near the entrance. There sat a silver platter of warm food, accompanied by a stack of cotton dresses and a fresh pitcher of water.
Someone had slipped in quietly, left the essentials, and vanished, following the Commander's strict orders.
Dilshana stood frozen in the middle of the room, her wet hair dripping cold water onto her bare shoulders. The last tiny thread of hope she had held onto, the simple wish to see Kumud, to hear a human voice, shattered into a thousand pieces.
She stared at the silver tray, a haunting laugh escaping her lips before dissolving into helpless weeping.
"Saaya ban kar aate hain... aur saaya ban kar chale jaate hain," she wept aloud, sinking slowly onto her knees on the floor, her voice echoing mournfully off the walls. "Ek insaan ka chehra tak dekhne ke qaabil nahi samjhate humein!"
(They come like shadows... and they leave like shadows. They don't even find me worthy enough to see the face of another human being!)
• The Other Side of the War •
Far from the military tracks, under the pitch-black sky, Vijaydev halted his horse outside a secluded hut tucked deep inside the wilderness.
Accompanied by three of his most loyal men, they stepped into the shadows. Vijaydev stripped off his attire, donning dirt-stained clothes of a common laborer.
He wrapped a dark cloth firmly around the lower half of his face, leaving only his eyes exposed.
The four men reached the heavily guarded border town near Ratangarh. In a time of war, the atmosphere was thick with suspicion.
A shady contractor stood shouting orders at a few exhausted workers, near a bustling warehouse.
Vijaydev stood in the background, like a wall, while Raghu, stepped forward to speak. "Ram-Ram, Maalik. Kaam ki bohot sakht zaroorat hai humein."
(Greetings, Master. We are in desperate need of work.)
Contractor spat a dark stream of tobacco onto the dirt, eyeing the four dusty men from head to toe.
"Kaam? Yahan yuddh ka mahaul hai, har aere-gaere ko kaam par nahi rakhte hum! Pehle batao kahan se aaye ho? Aur naam kya hai tum sabka?"
(Work? War is brewing here, I don't hire any random stranger! First tell me where have you come from? And what are your names?)
Raghu instantly slipped into an authentic southern dialect, keeping his posture humble. "Hum dakshin ki ghaatiyon se aaye hain, Maalik... wahan kaal pada hai, roti ke laale pade hain. Mera naam Raghu hai, yeh hamara bada bhai Viru..." Raghu pointed toward Vijaydev, then toward the other two, "...aur yeh Somu aur Bhima."
(We have come from the southern valleys, Master... there is famine there, we are struggling for food. My name is Raghu, this is our elder brother Viru... and these two are Somu and Bhima.)
The contractor stroked his rough beard.
"Dakshin se? Itni door yahan kya karne aaye ho? Qile ke andar dushman ke jaasoos ghusne ki firaak mein hain. Main kaise maan loon tum sach bol rahe ho?"
(From the south? What brought you so far here? Enemy spies are trying to infiltrate the fort. How do I believe you are telling the truth?)
"Maalik, humein raajniti se kya lena-dena?" Raghu replied smoothly. "Hum toh bas pet paalne aaye hain. Jo mehnat ka kaam doge, imandari se karenge."
(Master, what do we have to do with politics? We are only here to feed our stomachs. Whatever hard labor you give, we will do it honestly.)
Contractor grunted, realizing these men possessed raw physical strength, his greed kicked in.
"Theek hai... Qile ke andar kuch bohot hi bhaari saamaan pahunchana hai. Din bhar ki mazdoori ke do taambe ke sikke milenge. Manzoor hai toh bolo, nahi toh dafa ho jao."
(Fine... Heavy goods have to be moved inside the fort. You will get two copper coins for the whole day's labor. Agree to it or get lost.)
Raghu immediately feigned outrage, stepping closer to bargain.
"Do sikke?! Maalik, chaar sikke se kam mein toh hamare pet ki aag bhi nahi bujhegi! Chaar sikke toh lagenge hi."
(Two coins?! Master, anything less than four coins won't even fill our stomachs! It will cost at least four coins.)
"Arey baap re! Chaar sikke?!" The contractor shouted back, waving his hand dismissively. "Teen taambe ke sikke... lena hai toh lo, warna rasta naapo!"
(Good God! Four coins?! Three copper coins... take it or leave it!)
Raghu scratched his head, looking back at Vijaydev, who gave a nod.
"Theek hai, Maalik... teen sikke hi sahi. Bas kaam bataiye," Raghu agreed with a heavy sigh.
(Alright, Master... three coins it is. Just show us the work.)
The contractor smirked, satisfied that he had driven a hard bargain. He gestured toward a stack of massive wooden crates.
• The Walls •
By the fourth day, Dilshana had begun creating little routines simply to keep herself from losing her mind.
Every evening, she walked into the back garden and sat beneath the same tree. She counted the leaves within her reach, arranged fallen flowers into small circles, and then, crushed them between her fingers.
One afternoon, a brightly coloured butterfly fluttered past her.
Dilshana immediately rose and followed it, a faint smile touching her lips for the first time in days. She reached out, trying to catch it between her palms.
For a fleeting moment, the garden disappeared. She was a little girl again, running through the courtyard with her younger brother, both of them chasing butterflies while their mother watched, laughing at their childish antics.
"Ammi, dekhiye! Humne pakad li!"
(Ammi, look! We caught it!)
The memory faded as quickly as it had appeared. The butterfly escaped through the gaps between her fingers and flew freely beyond the garden wall.
"Ammi..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Aap hoti toh humse baat karti na?"
(Ammi... if you were here, you would talk to me, wouldn't you?)
She lowered herself onto the grass, hugging her knees to her chest. After a moment, she began speaking softly as though her mother were sitting beside her, answering her own questions in a broken imitation of the familiar voice.
Sometimes, she whispered "Dilshana..." to herself, only to remember that inside these walls, she was supposed to be Naaz.
She began scratching tiny marks into the stone wall, counting each passing day.
Whenever the lock clicked, she instinctively lifted her head, hope flash through her exhausted eyes.
But it was always the same silent maid, leaving food and water before disappearing again.
Sometimes, laughter drifted in from the guards outside. Dilshana would stop whatever she was doing and simply listen.
It was strange.
She had never imagined that the sound of other people laughing could hurt this much.
An entire week bled away in the exact same haunting rhythm. Seven agonizing days of absolute silence. Just as Agnijeet had strictly commanded, neither Kumud nor Kesar stepped foot inside the chamber. Not once.
The fear of his ruthless decree held the entire palace in an iron grip.
A maid would slip through the doors twice a day like a shadow. She would silently place a plate on the table, refill the water pot, and vanish before the lock clicked shut from the outside.
She never looked Dilshana in the eye. She never uttered a single word.
By the seventh afternoon, the suffocating quiet drove Dilshana to the absolute brink of sanity. Sitting in the middle of a room that was slowly accumulating dust, the weight of seven days crushed her chest.
She hadn't heard a human voice address her in a week. She was a captive, an enemy, and now a wedded bride to a man who had abandoned her in a cage.
A ghost haunting an empty room.
When the maid slipped in that afternoon with the water pot, Dilshana couldn't stop herself. She took a step forward, her voice raspy from days of disuse, her eyes wide with a desperate urge just to connect. "Is hujre ki safai nahi hoti?"
(Does no one clean this chamber?)
The maid froze, startled by the sound of her voice. Keeping her head low, she answered in a hurried whisper.
"Humein keval khana aur jal rakhne ki aagya hai... safai ki aagya nahi mili."
(We are only ordered to leave food and water... we have no permission to clean.)
Dilshana looked around the vast room. The dust on the wooden tables, the dry leaves blown in from the garden was a mirror of her own deteriorating mind.
She looked back at the maid, her tone turning into a pleading request.
"Hume safai ka kuch saman laa do. Hum khud kar lenge."
(Bring me some cleaning supplies. I will do it myself.)
The maid hesitated, looking at the door nervously, but seeing the agony in the girl's eyes, she gave a nod.
A few minutes later, the door cracked open again, and a bundle of cloth rags and a stiff broom were pushed inside.
Dilshana filled the water bucket from the bath area.
She fell to her knees and began to scrub the floor frantically. It was madness taking form in physical labor. She swept the dust, scrubbed the floorboards, and wiped down the wooden legs of the bed until her fingers burned and her knees turned bruised.
She was trying to scrub away the silence, trying to keep her fracturing mind from shattering completely in the dark.
Her frantic movements slowly dissolved into a numb drift.
Her mind slipped back into the shadows of her past. A bitter realization settled deep within her heart, nothing had truly changed. Her life had always been a tapestry of pain.
Before, her existence was filled with bleeding physical wounds, harsh blows, and the venomous thrust of degrading words that tore her dignity to shreds every single day. The abuse was loud, violent, and humiliating.
The pain had simply taken a different shape here. The physical strikes were replaced by this prison, crushing her spirit under the weight of silence.
Her past had been a living hell of insults and scars, and her present was merely its haunting shadow.
A bitter tear dripped from her cheek, splashing onto the wet floor she was scrubbing, lost in the endless quiet of her gilded cell.
"Wahan zakhmon ki cheekhe thi... yahan zakhm dene wala bhi koi nahi," she whispered, a heartbroken laugh breaking from her chest as her sore hands came to a halt. "Kaisi taqdeer di hai Tune, Khuda? Pehle dard shor machata tha... ab khamoshi se jaan leta hai."
(There, the wounds screamed aloud... here, there isn't even anyone to inflict the wound. What destiny have You written for me, God? Earlier, pain made a noise... now silently takes my life.)
• In the Military Quarter •
Agnijeet slowly opened his eyes as the pale morning light pierced through the small window of the room.
This was not the gilded wing of the royal palace, but the rugged quarters allotted to the military officers near the inner barracks.
A simple cot, a table stacked with maps and daggers, and cold stone walls made up the space.
Agnijeet sat up on the edge of the cot, rubbing his face.
Vijaydev walked in, carrying two brass cups of steaming tea. He stopped, looking at the formidable Commander who looked like a looming shadow in his plain room, and let out a long sigh.
"Kab tak mere is chhote se kaksh mein dera jamane ka irada hai? Teen din ho gaye hain aapko yahan pade hue! Kripa kijiye hum par, aur padhariye apne vishal kaksh mein."
(How long do you intend to camp out in this small room of mine? It's been three days since you've been lying here! Show some mercy on me, and please move to your vast chamber.)
Agnijeet took a slow sip.
"Bas kuch samay aur."
(Just a little more time.)
Vijaydev pulled a stool and sat across from him.
"Koi khabar mili? Kab tak dhoondhenge use?"
(Did you get any news? How long will we keep searching for him?)
Agnijeet stared blankly into the dark liquid of his cup, his dark eyes narrowing with a ruthless resolve.
"Yadi woh mar bhi gaya hai... toh use pataal se bhi dhoondhkar nikalna padega."
(Even if he is dead... he will have to be searched for and dragged out from the depths of hell itself.)
Vijaydev gripped the edge of the table, his forehead knotting in deep worry.
"Kunwar sa, aap us ek vyakti ke chakkar mein pehle hi kahi baar apni jaan jokhim mein daal chuke hai!"
(Prince, because of that one person, you have already put your life at risk multiple times!)
Agnijeet slowly raised his eyes, locking a gaze onto Vijaydev. His voice came out raspy and heavy with an unshakeable resolve.
"Is brahmand mein uss ek manushya se mahatvapurna humare liye aur kuch bhi nahi hai."
(In this entire universe, there is nothing more important to me than that single human being.)
For a long moment, Agnijeet sat quietly, his mind returning to the information Vijaydev had brought back from Ratangarh three days ago. He slowly went over those details in his mind once again, and a faint smirk touched his lips.
•
The pitch-black night had completely swallowed the fortress.
Dilshana sat on the bed, her back turned to the door, staring blankly at the wall. She was wearing plain traditional attire, and her veil hung around her shoulders. She had already finished her meal.
The same suffocating quiet hung in the room, bleeding into her soul just as it had for the past seven agonizing days.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed near the door.
Dilshana's heart slammed against her ribs. The footsteps were heavy, deliberate, and iron-shod. It was definitely not the light steps of a handmaiden.
Instinctively, she grabbed her odhni to pull the thick cotton veil down over her face.
At that exact fraction of a second, the wooden doors swung open with a sharp creak.
Agnijeet stepped into the room, his looming shadow casting across the floor. His sharp eyes sliced through the dim light of the oil lamps, locking instantly onto the bed where Dilshana sat.
He stood in the center of his chamber, his face a carved mask of stone. His eyes swept across the room, noticing the scrubbed floor, the brass platter, and finally settling on Dilshana, who stood frozen and fully veiled near the edge of the canopy bed.
Agnijeet reached up and stripped off his tunic with a swift motion, tossing the cloth aside. The flickering lamp light caught the broad, scarred expanse of his chest.
He took a deliberate step toward the bed.
Terror shot through Dilshana's veins. As he took another step forward, her survival instincts kicked in. She bolted sideways, fleeing to the far end of the chamber, her back pressing against the wall.
Agnijeet didn't chase her. He didn't even turn his head. He walked straight to the bed and lay back, closing his eyes.
Not a single word escaped his lips. No anger, no demands, no acknowledgment of her panic.
Dilshana stood paralyzed behind her veil, her chest heaving as she stared at him. The sheer unpredictability of this man terrified her.
Minutes stretched into an hour. She remained pinned against the wall as the steady rhythm of his breathing filled the room.
Dilshana glanced around the chamber, searching for a place to rest. The benches and narrow couches in the room were raw, firm, and completely unsuitable for sleeping.
She quietly approached a hard wooden couch, tucking her clothes tightly as she prepared to sit and rest.
Suddenly, an iron hand shot out from the dark and clamped tightly around her wrist. Dilshana gasped as a powerful yank pulled her completely off balance, dragging her across the space and throwing her down onto the bed.
Agnijeet lay beside her, his deep voice rasping through the shadows.
"Patni apne pati ke saath soti hai. Sikhaya nahi tumhein kisi ne?"
(A wife sleeps beside her husband. Did no one teach you this?)
Her heart hammered wildly as she scrambled to pull away, but his grip was a steel shackle. She screamed from the top of her lungs.
"Hath chhodiye humara."
(Leave my hand.)
Panic surged violently through her chest. She kicked toward him with all the strength her exhausted body could gather, her bare foot striking against his bare torso.
"Chhodiye humein! Darinde!"
(Let me go! Beast!)
Agnijeet barely moved.
She kicked again, then again, each blow driven by nothing but sheer desperation.
Her voice cracked as she fought against his grip. "Iblis! Qayamat tak aapko sukoon na mile!"
(Satan! May you never know peace until the Day of Judgment!)
Agnijeet had made no effort to come closer to her and was holding only one of her wrists while she fought against him from the opposite side of the bed.
Dilshana attacked his hand with other one, digging her fingernails into his skin and dragging them repeatedly across the back of his hand until thin red scratches appeared.
She screamed, her voice breaking beneath the weight of terror she had been carrying for days. "Humari baddua lagegi aapko! Insaan ki surat mein darinde hain aap!"
(My curse will reach you! You are a beast wearing the face of a man!)
Agnijeet looked down at the blood on his hand, then slowly raised his eyes toward the veiled woman fighting him with an intensity that seemed almost incomprehensible to him.
His brows drew together in a deep furrow as he listened to the stream of unfamiliar curses pouring from beneath her veil. He was trying to understand what exactly she was calling him.
She kicked against him again, and clawed at the fingers imprisoning her wrist while tears continued slipping beneath the edge of her veil.
"Keede padenge aapke har zakhm mein... aur maut bhi aapke paas aane se inkaar kar degi!"
(Worms will infest every wound you carry... and even death will refuse to come near you!)
Her furious movement loosened the edge of her odhni, and the veil began slipping away from her face, but the instant she felt the fabric move, she hurriedly caught the falling cloth with her free hand, pulling it firmly before returning to her desperate struggle.
His eyes remained fixed upon the thick veil.
Dilshana twisted her wrist again, her breath coming in broken gasps as she tried one final time to pull herself away from him, but his fingers only tightened around her wrist, keeping her firmly in place.
"Humari baddua lagegi aapko!" she whispered through trembling lips, her voice now thick with tears rather than fury. "Har roz lagegi... har pal lagegi... aur ek din aapko samajh aayega ki humne kya khoya hai."
(My curse will reach you! Every day... every moment... and one day you will understand what you made me lose.)
Agnijeet watched her for several long seconds before finally speaking, his voice remaining maddeningly calm against the storm she had created.
"Is sangharsh se kuch praapt nahi hoga. So jao."
(Nothing will be gained from this struggle. Go to sleep.)
Dilshana stared at him through the veil, utterly disbelieving that after everything she had screamed, every kick she had delivered, and every scratch she had carved into his hand, the man could still speak as though he were merely instructing her to sleep.
He simply lay on his back, his eyes fixed silently on her thick cotton veil. The fabric was so dense that not a single feature of her face was visible, yet his intense gaze stayed anchored right on her hidden face, watching her struggle in silence.
Dilshana collapsed onto the mattress, her body stiff with dread. Agnijeet closed his eyes, keeping his palm firmly locked around her wrist.
She lay frozen beside him. Minutes passed, and when his breathing finally deepened into the rhythm of sleep, Dilshana attempted to slide her wrist out of his hand, millimeter by millimeter.
The moment her wrist shifted, his fingers tightened, locking her down even harder without him even opening his eyes.
Exhausted beyond measure, Dilshana stopped fighting. She slid as far away from him as his grip would allow, curling up at the very edge of the bed. Keeping her thick veil pulled firmly over her face, she let her tears fall silently, drifting into a restless sleep beside her enemy.
The pale morning light slowly seeped through the stone archways of the chamber.
Every muscle in her body was tense, her wrist still gripped by the man beside her. Through the thick layer of her cotton veil, her eyes stayed fixed on the shadows above.
Slowly, the grip on her wrist loosened as Agnijeet stirred.
Dilshana immediately closed her eyes, keeping her breathing as steady as possible beneath the veil, holding the duvet to her chest. Every single one of her senses heightened, tracking his every move.
She felt the mattress shift as he left her hand. She heard the heavy thud of his footsteps, and the quiet rasp of his breathing in the morning air.
She slit her eyes open just a fraction beneath her odhni. He turned and walked toward the open archway leading out into the garden.
Dilshana slowly turned her head, watching him through the archway.
Agnijeet began his morning training. Dilshana watched him from the darkness of the chamber, the way he moved with the brutal efficiency of a warrior born for battle. His bare back was etched with deep scars, muscles rippling under the early morning sun as he lifted heavy stone weights and executed martial movements.
There was a terrifying discipline to him. He moved like a predatory beast in an open cage, completely indifferent to the world around him.
Dilshana watched his unyielding form, her chest tightening with an unsettling mix of dread and confusion.
This formidable commander held her entire existence in his palm, yet he treated her neither like a prized captive nor a beloved bride.
He was an impenetrable fortress, and every minute spent under his terrifying shadow only deepened the mystery of what he truly intended to do with her.
After completing his routine, Agnijeet walked into the adjoining bath area. Dilshana remained motionless on the bed.
A short while later, he stepped back out into the main chamber. True to his warrior habits, remaining bare-chested as his wet hair dripped onto his broad shoulders.
A knock echoed at the door, and three handmaidens entered, one of them carrying a large tray loaded with breakfast. She placed the food on the table. The other two prepared the bath.
They bowed their heads, and retreated.
Agnijeet sat down on the couch. He ate his morning meal in silence.
Once finished, he got dressed up, and adjusted his sword belt. Without casting a single glance toward the bed, he strode out of the chamber, his iron-shod boots fading down the long corridor.
The moment the outer lock clicked into place, a shuddering gasp broke from Dilshana's lips.
She lifted the suffocating cotton veil off her face. After hours of darkness, heat, and terrifying confinement, the cool morning air touched her skin. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply, feeling a wave of relief wash over her.
She slowly sat up, completed her morning routine, and walked over to the table. Sitting on the floor, she picked at the breakfast, staring blankly at the floor.
The tears that had spilled so freely over the past week had finally run dry. Her eyes were hollow, reflecting a numbness.
Eight days. Eight endless days had passed since she had heard a gentle human voice directed at her. Eight days of living like a phantom, existing in a realm where time seemed to bleed together in unbroken quiet.
Her mind had become a quiet wasteland, where even her own thoughts echoed like distant memories.
The rest of the day drifted away in that exact torment. The sun climbed high, then slowly sank into the horizon, leaving behind the bruised hues of twilight.
No one spoke to her. No one looked at her. She was trapped inside the silent tomb of her own heart.
Night descended once more, wrapping the fortress in a black shadow.
Dilshana sat near the window, watching the stars appear through the garden walls.
Tonight, the heavy footsteps of the Commander never came down the corridor. The doors remained locked, the halls remained still, and she was left alone once again to face the vast silence of the dark.
• Her Question •
The golden rays of the morning light had just begun to cut through the archways when the heavy steps echoed.
Dilshana went rigid. Instantly recognizing the iron cadence of those steps, she yanked her thick cotton veil down over her face, pulling it tight below her chin.
The doors creaked open, and Agnijeet stepped inside. He was covered in layer upon layer of dust and dried earth, looking as though he had spent the entire night riding through harsh terrain.
He paid no attention to the silent girl sitting in the corner. He peeled off his kurta and walked straight into the bath area.
Dilshana remained perfectly still beneath her odhni, her eyes tracking his movements through the dense fabric.
By the time Agnijeet stepped back into the main chamber, a handmaiden had already slipped in, placed a tray of warm breakfast on the table, and departed.
Agnijeet sank onto the couch beside the low table, bare-chested and dripping with water.
His eyes drifted toward the edge of the canopy bed. Beneath that thick cotton veil, he could feel her constant gaze. She was watching his every breath. He continued eating.
Suddenly, a fragile, trembling voice broke the silence. She asked as if she really didn't know his name.
"Aapka naam kya hai?"
(What is your name?)
He didn't pause his hands. He continued chewing silently for a few long seconds.
For days, he had remained in the soldiers' quarters, deliberately keeping himself away from the chamber where his war bride had been left alone. He had known exactly what those days of silence would do to her.
"Agnijeet Rathore."
Dilshana sat frozen, her heart hammering against her ribs. She waited, breath held beneath her veil, hoping he would offer even a sliver of conversation to ease the crushing silence.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and gathered the courage to ask the one question that had been burning her soul.
"Aapne humse shadi kyun ki?"
(Why did you marry me?)
Agnijeet stopped moving. He lowere
d his hand to the wooden table, his piercing gaze locking even harder onto her hidden face. His deep voice sliced through the room.
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