Okay Janemans... what is happening?
Why are the votes and comments this low? Where am I lacking?
Your girl is literally writing chapters day and night, feeding you drama, tension, enemies, secrets, a terrifyingly obsessed commander and a girl who desperately needs an escape route... AND THIS IS WHAT I GET?
Come onnn... what's wrong, sakhis?
Is the chapter not giving enough "OH MY GODDD" moments?
Are we saving our screams for later?
I need 30 votes and 50 comments. I need to know you're
reading.
Now go read. And talk to me. Because..
I love you ❤️
• The Question •
Dilshana 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 lowered his hand to the table, his piercing gaze locking even harder onto her hidden face. His deep voice sliced through the room. "Tumne hume ranbhoomi mein chhal se murchhit kyun kiya?"
(Why did you deceitfully render me unconscious on the battlefield?)
She gritted her teeth, cursing him in her mind. "Aapki begumein... unhe humara yahan hona manzoor hai?"
(Your wives... are they willing to accept my presence here?)
His gaze remained fixed upon her as he drunk the water with slow sips.
Then, he finally spoke. "Tum kisi aur ki chinta karne ki paristhiti mein ho?"
(Are you in any position to concern yourself with anyone else?)
The question hung in the air like a
Sharp iron blade. Dilshana parted her lips beneath her veil, completely stunned by his response.
Before she could formulate an answer, he stood, pulled a tunic over his head, strapped his sword to his waist, and headed for the door, leaving the doors to lock shut once.
She stared at his back.
"Takabbur ka putla.."
(Embodiment of arrogance...)
• The Brother •
The grand court of Mewar was lined with tall stone pillars, filled with the heavy murmur of ministers, regional lords, and military commanders.
Durgpal sat high upon the carved throne. His posture was imposing, but his eyes carried a bitter resentment toward the man standing on the court floor below.
Agnijeet stood below. As the Chief Commander, his cold presence overshadowed even the royal throne, a fact that constantly fueled Durgpal's hidden hatred.
Beside the throne stood Durgpal's younger son, Kirtipal, trying to hide his trembling hands behind a proud posture.
The court proceedings were ongoing, but Agnijeet did not wait for anyone to bring up the matter. He took a step forward, his gaze locking onto Kirtipal.
"Prince Kirtipal," Agnijeet's voice boomed across the hall, cold and dangerous. "Yesterday in the main square, you publicly insulted an active front-line soldier and threatened to strip him of his post. Care to explain your authority over my army?"
Kirtipal froze, his face turning pale under Agnijeet's suffocating gaze.
Seeing his younger brother cornered, Yuvraj Sangram stepped forward, trying to intervene smoothly. "Senapati, Kirtipal is young. It was a minor misunderstanding between a prince and a guard. We can resolve this privately."
Agnijeet turned his gaze toward Sangram. "Mewar ki sena ka har ek sainik iss rajya ki neev hai. Yadi dobara kisi yoddha ka niradar kiya, toh Rajkumar hone ka ahankar iski gardan nahi bachayega!"
(Every single soldier of Mewar's army is the foundation of this kingdom. If he disrespected any warrior again, the pride of being a Prince will not save his neck!)
Sangram went quiet, stepping back. Kirtipal lowered his head in sheer fear. Durgpal's jaw clenched so tight his muscle strained. He hated how Agnijeet casually humiliated his son, yet he could not challenge the Commander's hold over the army.
Trying to take back control of the court, Durgpal leaned forward, his voice dripping with icy disapproval. "You forget your boundaries, Senapati. But leaving the matter of soldiers aside, let us talk about the state money. The recent border movements have cost us too much. I need a clear account of where the gold is being spent."
Before Agnijeet could answer, A young man stepped into the court. He possessed a calm aura, his striking brown eyes scanning the room with calculated intelligence. His movement was smooth and quiet, like a wolf silently reading the entire field before stepping into the hunt.
It was Vishwajeet.
Durgpal looked at him in total surprise. "Kunwar Vishwajeet? You are here? You were supposed to be managing the southern borders."
Before Vishwajeet could speak, Agnijeet answered in a firm tone.
"I called him back."
Durgpal's eyes narrowed.
Vishwajeet walked up the center aisle with complete grace. He bowed with formal respect to Durgpal, then turned politely toward Minister Shrikant, Durgpal's chief auditor.
Vishwajeet spoke, his voice simple, clear, and serene. "The concern regarding the money is valid. However, Minister Shrikant, since you handle the accounts, can you clear one small doubt?"
Minister Shrikant shifted uncomfortably. "What doubt, Kunwar Vishwajeet?"
"The treasury paid full money to buy grain for the border troops," Vishwajeet explained in very simple terms. "The delivery papers show that the grain came from your personal lands without any tax. If the state paid full price, where did the saved tax money go?"
A quiet shock swept across the court. Minister Shrikant went pale. Without raising his voice, Vishwajeet had exposed the minister's greed in front of everyone.
"I... I will check the papers again, Kunwar Vishwajeet," Shrikant stammered, bowing nervously.
Durgpal glared at his minister in silence. His attempt to corner Agnijeet was completely ruined.
The court procedure continued for some time as other minor administrative matters were discussed and dismissed with proper protocol. Finally, the royal herald announced the end of the session.
Durgpal retreated to his private wing in silent fury. Agnijeet and Vijaydev walked down the quiet corridor.
Vishwajeet walked up from behind with a warm smile. He immediately bent down to touch Agnijeet's feet.
"Khamma Ghani, Bhai Sa."
(Greetings, Bhai sa.)
Agnijeet placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him up into a firm hug.
As they pulled back from the embrace, Vishwajeet looked at Agnijeet with quiet surprise and a hint of amusement. "Bhai Sa... aapne sach mein vivah kar liya?"
(Bhai Sa... did you truly get married?)
Vijaydev smirked, leaning back as he answered on Agnijeet's behalf.
"Nahi karte toh ranbhoomi ki aag thandi kaise hoti?"
(If he hadn't, how else would the fire of the battlefield cool down?)
Vishwajeet chuckled lightly, looking back at Agnijeet."Kyun, Bhai Sa?"
(Why, Bhai Sa?)
Vijaydev interrupted before Agnijeet could react, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Bhabhi Sa ke nayan harit rang ke hain."
(Bhabhi Sa has green eyes.)
Agnijeet shot a sharp glare at Vijaydev. The Commander instantly raised his hands in silent surrender, though his smirk remained intact.
Vishwajeet smiled softly. He looked at Agnijeet respectfully. "Hum sab unse milne jayein, Bhai Sa?"
(May we all go to meet her, Bhai Sa?)
Agnijeet adjusted his sword belt as he gave a single nod.
"Hmmm... Go."
• The Gold •
After a while, the chamber's doors creaked open. Dilshana instinctively pulled her thick cotton veil down, concealing her face entirely.
Yashodhra Devi stepped into the room. Her face was cold and distant, completely devoid of warmth. Nobody in the royal household trusted this mysterious captive girl.
Following closely behind her was a young man. It was Vishwajeet.
Behind them walked a fleet of handmaidens carrying large silver trays stacked with rich silk attires, and gold jewelry.
Yashodara Devi stopped a few paces away from Dilshana, gesturing for the maidens to place the trays on the table.
"Yeh shagun ka saamaan hai. Ab jab Agnijeet ne aapse vivah kar hi liya hai, toh niyamon ke anusar is par aapka adhikaar hai."
(This is the ceremonial offering. Now that Agnijeet has indeed married you, according to the laws, you have a right over it.)
Yashodara Devi turned slightly toward the young man standing beside her.
"Vishwajeet... yeh hain aapki Bhabhi Sa. Halanki inka sachha naam aur kul toh humein bhi nahi pata, par yeh swayam ko 'Naaz' kehti hain."
(Vishwajeet... this is your sister-in-law. Although even we do not know her true name and lineage, she calls herself 'Naaz'.)
Vishwajeet stepped forward calmly. He bowed low and touched Dilshana's feet, his voice low and polite.
"Khamma Ghani, Bhabhi Sa."
(Greetings, Sister-in-law.)
Dilshana froze beneath her veil, completely bewildered by the sudden gesture. She had never experienced such respect, and she stood utterly motionless of how to react.
At that moment, Kesar stepped into the chamber. Seeing Dilshana standing like a statue, Kesar let out a breath.
"Jab tumse chhota koi tumhare charan sparsh karke aashirwad le, toh tum uske sar par haath rakhkar use aashirwad de sakti ho..." Kesar paused, her eyes narrowing. "...par aashirwad sachhe mann se dena. Koyi chhal ya vishwas ghat mat mila dena usmein."
(When someone younger than you touches your feet for blessings, you can place your hand on their head and bless them... but give that blessing with a truthful heart. Do not mix any deceit or betrayal into it.)
Dilshana remained silent, the sting of Kesar's words settling deep into her aching heart.
Vishwajeet slowly stood up. Looking at the trembling figure behind the thick cloth. "Yadi aapko uchit lage Bhabhi Sa... toh aap humare samne apna ghoonghat hata sakti hain."
(If you feel it is right, Sister-in-law... You may remove your veil before me.)
The genuine respect in his voice touched something raw within Dilshana. She whispered to herself.
"Allah.. Ek hi aurat ke bete hain...? Ek farishta aur ek darinda."
(Allah... They were born of the same woman...? One an angel, and the other a beast.)
This young man's polite demeanor offered a faint comfort. Dilshana slowly pulled back the veil, exposing her delicate face and her striking green eyes.
Dilshana looked at Vishwajeet. He possessed a dignified air, entirely free of the predatory aura that surrounded Agnijeet. He observed her with a polite acknowledgment of her presence.
He bowed with genuine smile and excused himself from the chamber, stepping back out into the hallway.
Then, the palace women came and went one after another, each leaving behind their gifts before quietly taking her leave.
Dilshana remained stood, watching them disappear through the doors. Her gaze lingered on the doors.
Where are his wives?
The question came so naturally that she almost dismissed it, only for another to follow.
Why did none of them try to stop this marriage? Did they simply stand by and watch this happen? Or are they all secretly relieved that this calamity has fallen into my lap instead?
She stared at the doors for another moment, genuinely bewildered.
Suddenly, Kalavati entered the chamber, her eyes crawling over Dilshana's exposed face with absolute filth and malice.
She walked in with slow steps, stopping just a few feet away. Kalavati's gaze dragged over every single inch of Dilshana's features, from her green eyes to slightly trembling fingers, taking in the girl's quiet vulnerability.
Two of her maids placed another set of silver platters heavy with glittering jewels and velvet fabrics onto the table.
"Yeh tumhare uphar hain, ladki," Kalavati said. "Mewad ke Senapati ki seva kar rahi ho, uski kimat samajh lo."
(These are your gifts, girl. You are serving the Commander of Mewar, understand its price.)
Yashodhara Devi's eyes widened instantly, a stunned silence falling over the room.
Dilshana felt her breath catch in her throat. The degrading words pierced through her chest like jagged glass. She clenched her hands into tight fists, holding back the sting of tears that threatened to spill over her eyelashes.
Kalavati leaned in slightly, a cruel smile curving her lips. "Waise kya fayda is roop ka?" Kalavati chuckled, a sharp sound that echoed off the walls. "Vivah ke baad kitne dino tak toh Senapati yahan aaye hi nahi!"
(By the way, what is the use of this beauty? Even after marriage, the Commander hasn't set foot here for so many days!)
The two maids standing behind Kalavati let out muffled giggles, covering their mouths.
"Roop ke jaal mein fasa toh liya," Kalavati continued, "par apne paas rakh nahi pa rahi... Shayad tumhari adayein kaam nahi aa rahi hain!"
(You trapped him in the web of your beauty, but you can't even keep him beside you... Perhaps your charms aren't working!)
Dilshana's heart shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. Every taunt felt like a physical blow, tearing at what little dignity she had left. She lowered her head as she fought to keep her tears from falling.
Yashodhara Devi's voice cut through the air, her eyes flashing with sharp disapproval. "Maryada yaad rahe! Chaliye yaha se."
(Remember the decorum! Let's go from here.)
Kalavati merely smirked, satisfied with the humiliating blow she had delivered.
Yashodhra Devi, Kesar and Kalavati moved out of the chamber, along with maids.
Standing alone amidst the gold and silks, Dilshana swallowed the bitter lump of shame in her throat.
"Pehle qaid kiya... phir fere liye..." Dilshana whispered to herself, her tear-filled eyes staring blankly at the floor. "Aur ab har roz ek nayi zillat..."
(First he imprisoned me... then forced the wedding vows... And now every day a new insult...)
The rest of the day bled away in an agonizing silence. Kalavati's venomous words seeped like dark poison into the fractures of Dilshana's already broken spirit.
Every coarse syllable echoed relentlessly inside her mind, bouncing off the cold walls. She sat huddled in the corner of the room, her knees drawn tightly to her chest. The tears had stopped flowing long ago, replaced by a sickening realization.
As she looked back into the dark shadows of her past, a bitter truth began to take shape in her heart. Her whole life had been a series of indignities, an endless loop where she was treated as nothing more than a bargaining chip, an object of revenge, or a burden to be borne.
Why would this place be any different?
Agnijeet had dragged her from the battlefield to satisfy his own dark desires and avenge his bruised pride. She was just a vessel for a warrior's vengeance and bodily hunger.
The realization crushed whatever fragile piece she had left, making her feel utterly worthless and deeply degraded in her own eyes.
• The Vermilion •
The door to Kesar's chamber opened without announcement.
Kesar looked up sharply, a small puja thali resting between her hands. Her brows drew together when she saw Agnijeet enter with Vijaydev behind him.
Vijaydev stepped forward and placed a sword into Agnijeet's hand. It was the same blade Agnijeet had carried into the battle of Ratangarh, the weapon he had used in his final clash with Prince Zubair before Dilshana's move left him unconscious. Vijaydev had recognized the familiar hilt among the weapons recovered from the battlefield.
Agnijeet lowered himself onto one knee before her, the sword resting across his palm. Dried, dark-brown blood still clung to a section of its steel.
His gaze remained fixed upon the blade.
"Zubair ka rakt hai."
(It's Zubair's blood.)
Kesar went utterly still. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the plate. For one fleeting moment, something unreadable passed through her eyes before her face settled back into its familiar composure.
She dipped her thumb into the wet vermilion. Then she reached toward the sword.
She touched the dried blood along its blade, deliberately mixing the two.
Agnijeet watched her without moving.
Kesar lifted her hand. Her thumb pressed firmly against his forehead, leaving a deep red tilak above his brows.
She withdrew her hand, her eyes lingering on the blood-stained sword for one silent second before she turned away.
•
Late into the night, the iron-shod steps echoed down the quiet corridor.
Dilshana didn't bolt up in fear this time. She didn't even attempt to step off the bed. The fight had drained completely out of her.
She simply turned her back, lying completely still on the mattress. She pulled her thick veil over her face, resting one hand over her face to shield herself from his view.
Agnijeet stepped into the room and shed his tunic and sword belt, walking over to the bed with unhurried steps. He lay down beside her, bringing a suffocating warmth to the cold sheets.
Dilshana lay frozen at the edge, her heart beating in a dull rhythm. She stared into the shadow of the wall, waiting for the inevitable humiliation to begin.
She barely had time to steady her breathing before Agnijeet's large hand closed firmly around her wrist and holding it against the mattress.
Her entire body went rigid. She thought bitterly. If not tonight, then tomorrow... one day, he would reveal his true intentions, and she would become his prey. Perhaps this was what her life had become now, a long existence of enduring his cruelty until death finally brought it to an end.
His grip remained firm around her wrist, almost possessive in its certainty. Within moments, his breathing settled into the steady rhythm of sleep, leaving Dilshana staring into the darkness with her heart still pounding violently against her ribs.
The morning light broke over the palace. Dilshana lay under her veil, listening to the movements of the man beside her.
Agnijeet arose early. He stepped out into the courtyard for his grueling routine, returned flushed and dripping from his wash.
The handmaidens entered in their silent rhythm, set down the tray laden with breakfast, prepared the bath for Dilshana and retreated.
Agnijeet dropped cross-legged onto the couch and started eating.
Dilshana sat on the far edge of the canopy bed, her face completely hidden beneath the thick layers of her odhni.
She waited. She braced herself for the strapping of his sword belt, and the rhythmic thud of boots marching out.
Minutes bled into half an hour. Then an hour passed. The boots never moved. The sword belt remained lying on the table.
Agnijeet didn't get up. He simply sat there, cross-legged. His dark eyes were locked onto the veiled silhouette sitting on the bed. The quiet inside the chamber grew unnaturally dense, heavy enough to weigh down on her lungs.
Dilshana's pulse began to hammer against her ribs. Every minute felt like a slow drop of hot oil on skin.
Why wasn't he leaving? What was he waiting for?
He didn't stretch, he didn't shift his weight, and he didn't break his gaze. His eyes stayed anchored on her hidden face, tracking the faint rise and fall of her chest.
Dilshana stood up and walked toward the other side. She gathered her clothes from dressing chamber and retreated into the bath area to completed her morning routine, trying to calm her racing heart.
When she finally stepped back into the main chamber, her heart sank. "Ya Allah... is azaab ko aur koi kaam nahi?"
(Dear God... does this affliction have nothing else to do?)
He was still there. Sitting in the exact same spot, his gaze cutting straight through the distance between them.
The sheer intensity of his silent watch drove her to the brink of panic. Dilshana climbed on the canopy bed. She untied the cords and let the thick bed curtains drop all around her, until the fabric created a enclosed box, hiding her completely from his sight.
She finally let out a long breath, clutching her chest as her shoulders slumped.
She whispered into the dim space. "Yeh aakhir chahte kya hain? Hum par nazar rakh kar kaun si saza de rahe hain?"
(What does he actually want? What kind of punishment is he giving me by keeping his eyes glued to me?)
The very next second, the thick fabric was violently yanked aside. Agnijeet ripped the curtains away, one by one. He gathered the drapes that blocked his view and tossed them into the far corner of the room.
Dilshana gasped, pulling herself back against the headboard in utter shock. Her eyes widened beneath her veil as she stared at him, her chest heaving with terror.
Agnijeet simply turned around, walked back to the couch, and sat down once more, locking his gaze back onto her.
Three hours. Four hours.
The heat under Dilshana's thick veil became unbearable. Sweat trickled down her temples, sticking the cloth to her skin, making every breath feel thin and scarce. Her head throbbed with a rising panic. The sheer weight of his presence was a slow torture.
Driven by a sudden surge of desperation, Dilshana turned toward the doors leading to the private back courtyard, seeking even a breath of open air.
Before her fingers could touch the latch, the shadow behind her shifted. Agnijeet stood up and walked straight toward her.
Seeing him approach, Dilshana's heart slammed into her ribs. Fear seized her, and she instinctively scrambled backward, pressing herself against the wall.
Agnijeet locked his eyes on her. He slid the thick iron bolt across the frame, clicked a padlock into place, and turned back with key.
Dilshana stood there, her eyes wide with terror and helpless shock as she stared at the lock. A bitter curse echoed in her mind against the tyrant standing before her.
He calmly sat back down on his couch, his unblinking gaze locking onto her like a prison guard.
Dilshana's chest heaved with suppressed panic. She climbed on bed and slowly turned her back completely toward him.
She raised her trembling hands and yanked the veil off her face. Tears of exhaustion and panic welled in her eyes as she stared blindly at the carved pattern of the wall, her heart battering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Silence swallowed the chamber once more, stretching into an agonizing quiet.
Then, a deep voice cut through the air. "Kab tak apna chehra chupaogi? Kitne din... kitne saptah... kitne mahine?"
(How long will you hide your face? How many days... how many weeks... how many months?)
The sound of his voice made Dilshana's entire body recoil. Her breathing went shallow, clutching the bedsheets tightly.
She answered back, her voice trembling.
"Jab tak aapki ye gustakh aankhe phoot na jaye."
(Until those insolent eyes of yours are gouged out.)
A barely visible smirk touched his lips, his eyes glinting with a dangerous amusement. He said nothing more. He simply remained seated on his couch, watching the curve of her back.
Evening arrived, and the handmaiden silently left the night meal. Agnijeet washed his hands, ate calmly, and resumed his silent watch without offering her a single word.
Dilshana remained frozen on the bed, her stomach aching with hunger. She had barely drunk one or two glasses of water, but her pride kept her still.
She lowered her eyes, swallowing the bitterness in her throat before muttering beneath her breath. "Niwala gale se utar kaise raha hai is Sitamgar ko?"
(How does every morsel pass this tyrant's throat?)
When the suffocation became unbearable, she fled into the cold bath area. She spent an hour in the room, using the cool air to breathe and collect her fraying sanity.
When she finally stepped back out, a plate of bread was left on the table. Dilshana curled up on the edge of the bed, starving yet unable to touch his food.
A few moments later, the mattress dipped under a massive weight. Agnijeet lay down right beside her. He clamped his hand firmly around her wrist, binding her to his side.
Then something about the delicate skin beneath his thumb seemed to catch his attention. He loosened his hold by the slightest degree and felt along the inside of her wrist, where the veins ran close beneath the surface.
Her breath held as Agnijeet slowly brought her wrist closer, examining it with an odd concentration, as though he had unexpectedly discovered something worth studying.
His thumb found the faint line again.
Slowly, deliberately, he traced it beneath her skin.
Dilshana stared at him in mute horror.
She tried to pull her wrist away, but his fingers tightened around it.
She cursed beneath her breath, scarcely moving her lips. "Allah reham kare... yeh kis bala ke haath lage hain hum."
(May God have mercy... what kind of calamity have I fallen into the hands of?)
His attention remained fixed upon that blue vein beneath her wrist, following its path once more with the pad of his thumb.
Dilshana could only stare at him from behind her veil, wondering with mounting dread what sort of strange obsession had taken hold of the man lying beside her.
After a while, He simply closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, leaving her frozen in the quiet stillness of his breath.
The next morning arrived with the same tension hanging over the chamber. It seemed as though Agnijeet had only one solitary purpose left in his entire existence, to see Dilshana's face.
He woke early, completed his morning routine, ate his breakfast, and sat back down on the couch.
He didn't dress for the court. He simply sat cross-legged and bare chest, a towering fortress of silence, staring at the veiled figure resting on the edge of the bed.
Dilshana finally got up and walked into the dressing area, reaching for her usual cotton attire. She searched through the folded clothes, but the familiar fabric was nowhere to be found.
She checked the shelf again before slowly realizing that every single cotton dress had been removed. In their place lay only the heavily embroidered silk that Yashodara Devi had brought as royal gifts. She had no idea when he had done it.
But why he had done it was painfully obvious. The silk was heavier, warmer, far more restrictive than the simple cotton she had been hiding her face behind.
Her jaw tightened beneath the veil.
"Khuda ki laanat ho is darinde par... sukoon se saans lena bhi haraam kar diya hai humara."
(God's curse upon this tyrant... he has made even breathing in peace a crime for me.)
With a frustrated sigh, Dilshana picked up the silk and carried it into the bath area. She stepped into the warm water and remained there for as long as she could.
Only here, she could breathe without feeling his eyes upon her. When the water began losing its warmth, she finally rise.
She dressed reluctantly in the heavy silk, completely devoid of the light comfort her cotton clothes offered. She drew the veil over her face, and stepped back into the chamber.
Agnijeet was still sitting in the exact same place, his eyes immediately following her every movement.
Hours began to stretch once again. The weight of his presence was crushing her sanity piece by piece.
The heat of the silk only amplified her dread. And there he sat in the exact same spot, his eyes tracking her every move.
There was no escape, no relief, and no end to his terrifying patience. She sat there, keeping her back towards him and tracing the carwed wooden pattern on the headboard.
After a while, she turned around and retreated back into the bath area, leaning against the wall just to catch her breath.
Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Then nearly an hour.
She sat huddled on the floor, completely frozen in fear, terrified of stepping back out into his presence.
Suddenly, a deliberate footsteps echoed right outside the bath area door.
Dilshana's heart slammed into her throat. Her eyes went wide.
Would he come in here?
A knock rattled the door. Agnijeet's voice sliced through the thick wood. "Bhitar hi mar jaogi? Bahar aa jao... warna hum andar aa rahe hain."
(Will you die inside? Come outside... or I am coming in.)
Dilshana gasped, her hand trembling. She knew with certainty that he was not bluffing. If she didn't move, he would break down the boundary without a second thought.
As she hurriedly scrambled to her feet, his voice came again from outside the door. "Suno... ardhangini. Bahar aa jao."
(Listen... wife. Come outside.)
She opened the door and stepped back into the main room. Dusk had already settled over the palace.
Agnijeet stood in the center of the room. He looked at her veiled form. "Maa Saheb ne bulaya hai. Jaakar mil aao."
(Maa Saheb has summoned you. Go and meet her.)
The moment those words left his mouth, Dilshana practically rushed out of the suffocating room. She stepped into the corridor lined with handmaidens. Kumud was standing near the entrance.
The moment Dilshana saw Kumud's familiar face, after ten long days, something inside her broke completely. She yanked her veil up over her head, and threw her arms tightly around Kumud's neck. She held Kumud with a crushing grip, her body shaking violently as tears burst from her eyes.
"Kumud..." Dilshana wept, her voice broken. "Humara dam ghut raha hai... Humase sehan nahi ho raha hai...hume kahin se zaher laakar de do... Hume marna hai..."
(Kumud... I am suffocating... I cannot endure this any longer... Bring me a poison from somewhere... I want to die, Kumud...)
Kumud's eyes filled with tears as she held Dilshana, gently rubbing her back and hushing her panicked cries.
"Nahi Kuwrani Sa... aisa mat kahiye. Sab theek ho jayega. Apne aap ko sambhaliye... Maa Saheb prateeksha kar rahi hain."
(No Kuwrani sa... do not say such things. Everything will be fine. Compose yourself... Maa Saheb is waiting.)
Gently wiping her tears, Kumud guided Dilshana down the corridors toward Yashodara Devi's chambers.
They had barely crossed the next archway when Dilshana's gaze drifted toward the palace women disappearing behind them.
"Kumud... Unki begumein kahan hain?" (Kumud... where are his wives?)
Kumud slowed, turning toward her with genuine confusion. "Kiski begumein?" (Whose wives?)
Dilshana looked at her, almost surprised that she had to ask. "Sipahsalar ki..."
(The Commander's...)
She caught Kumud's hand.
"Kumud, humein unse milna hai," she said, her voice lowered to an urgent whisper. "Is jallad ke dil mein jiske liye mohabbat ho... humein unse milna hai. Hum unse guzarish karenge ke apne shauhar ko yahan se le jaayein... ya humein hi unke hujre se bahar nikalwa dein."
(Kumud, I need to meet them. Whoever this executioner has love for in his heart... I need to meet her. I will beg her to take her husband away from here... or at least have me removed from his chamber.)
Kumud stared at her, the confusion on her face deepening into disbelief. For a moment, she seemed unsure how to respond her. "Naaz... Kunwar Sa ki aapse pehle koi patni nahi thi."
(Naaz... Kunwar Sa had no wife before you.)
Dilshana's fingers slowly loosened around Kumud's hand.
Kumud continued, watching her face with growing concern. "Hum sabko toh unka vivah hona hi kisi chamatkar se kam nahi laga tha."
(All of us thought his marriage itself was nothing short of a miracle.)
Dilshana simply stood there, staring at Kumud as though the girl had just told her something far more frightening than she could have imagined.
If there had been no wife before her, then why had he married her? Why had he made a captive enemy his first wife?
A cold unease settled deeper within her.
Perhaps she had misunderstood the danger from the very beginning.
She had been terrified of becoming merely another woman in the life of a ruthless man.
The truth was far more frightening. She was the only one.
• Pehli Rasoi •
Inside, Yashodara Devi sat on a chair, with a silver trays filled with ceremonial bangles and vermilion.
As Dilshana stepped inside and bowed her head, Yashodhara Devi's extended the plate towards her.
"Yeh kaanch ki chudiyaan pehniye... aur apni maang mein yeh sindoor sajaiye."
(Wear these glass bangles... and adorn your parting with this vermilion.)
Dilshana stood silently. Under Kumud's guidance, she slid the glass bangles onto her slender wrists and let the red powder be applied to her forehead. Every single ritual felt like another iron link being forged onto her chains, tying her deeper into enemy territory.
Yashodhara Devi stared at the red powder sitting on Dilshana's hairline before speaking.
"Vivah ke bad kulvadhu ki pehli rasoi ki parampara hai. Aapko pariwar ke liye 'Kheer' banani hogi."
(After marriage, it is the tradition for the bride to prepare the first sweet dish. You will have to make 'Kheer' for the family.)
Dilshana simply bowed her head, her heart sinking deeper into her chest.
Kesar stepped forward from the shadows of the chamber. Without making eye contact, she turned toward the exit. "Come with me."
They walked deep into the royal quarters until they reached the palace kitchen. The space was enormous, with heavy copper cauldrons, rows of polished brass utensils. A dozen handmaidens and cooks stood in disciplined silence, bowing as Kesar entered.
Dilshana stood dumbfounded in the middle of the kitchen, staring blankly at the pots and coal stoves. She felt entirely out of place.
Kesar noticed her hesitation. She stepped beside and began guiding Dilshana step by step.
She picked up a pot, set it over the fire, and measured out milk, hand-pounded rice, and crushed cardamom. She handed each ingredient to Dilshana, maintaining absolute poise.
Yet, Kesar never looked straight into Dilshana's eyes. She maintained a strict distance, treating her solely like a duty that had to be fulfilled.
As Dilshana slowly stirred the thickening milk, her eyes kept drifting toward Kesar.
She took in the woman's white cotton attire, devoid of any color or jewelry. She looked at Kesar's serene face.
She could not be more than thirty years old.
A widow, living amidst the luxury of Mewar in complete simplicity. Dilshana's heart welled up with a painful ache, a hundred unasked questions swirling through her head.
Once the kheer turned thick, Kesar helped her transfer it into silver bowls.
Kesar picked up a bowl, filled it with a portion of the sweet dish, and looked toward the doorway.
"Pehle isse hum Bhagwan ke mandir mein bhog chadhate hai. Baki sabhi ko tum swayam de dena."
(First, I will offer this as a sacred offering in the temple. You serve the rest to everyone yourself.)
Dilshana returned to Yashodhara Devi's chamber. She served the hot kheer to the royal women present in the room, accepting the gifts.
Vishwajeet stepped into the chamber moments later. He took a bowl from the tray, tasted the kheer, and smiled warmly at Dilshana. "Bhabhi Sa, kheer bohot hi swadisht bani hai."
(Bhabhi Sa, the kheer is absolutely delicious.)
Dilshana offered a tiny smile, touched by his gentle words.
Dilshana stood there, completely unaware of what should she do, then she slowly walked over to Yashodhara Devi, hesitantly bending down to touch the matriarch's feet. Yashodhara Devi placed her palm lightly over Dilshana's head, and murmured a blessing.
"Sada suhagan rahiye."
(May your marital bliss last forever.)
As Dilshana turned toward the door, Yashodhara Devi's voice called out behind her once more.
"Agnijeet ke liye bhi kheer le jaiye."
(Take the kheer for Agnijeet as well.)
Dilshana's chest tightened at the mention of his name, but she silently took the covered bowl from tray.
A faint ray of relief still flickered inside Dilshana's chest as she walked down the corridors. Hearing normal human voice, feeling a familiar touch, and stepping out of that isolation, even for few hours had quieted the violent panic in her heart.
Kumud and the handmaidens accompanied her up to the doors. They stepped back into the shadows, with a respectful bow.
Dilshana pushed open the doors and stepped inside, hearing the iron lock click shut behind her.
The chamber was softly illuminated by the glow of oil lamps. Dilshana took a step forward, slightly lifting her silk veil just enough to see her path.
She froze. Her breath caught violently in her throat; her heart nearly stopped beating.
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