Hello, Sakhis...
I hope this story is entertaining you so far, and that all the love you have been giving it is reaching your girl.
Thank you so, so much for that.
Especially the theories... I'm genuinely enjoying every single one of your comments. Reading your guesses, your reactions, and the little details you catch honestly makes this journey so much more fun for me.
And this time...
No vote target.
No comment target.
I'm asking for absolutely nothing.
Let's see if you Sakhis love me enough to give me that unasked-for love anyway. ❤️
Love you ❤️
• The Web •
Dilshana entered the chamber, 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.
Every single wall of the chamber was now covered in mirrors. Framed glass was mounted beside the archways, near the windows, between the stone pillars, and along the dark corners.
There was literally no angle, no wall, and no corner of the room left untouched.
Dilshana understood why she had been sent away to Yashodara Devi's quarters. It was not out of royal duty or kindness. It was a calculated trap.
There was no place left to hide, with mirrors surrounding every inch of the room, Even if she kept her back turned, even if she curled up in the corner of the bed, her face beneath any loosened drape would be captured from every direction.
Every illusion of privacy, every small layer of defense she had desperately held onto for the days, was stripped away.
She yanked her veil right back down to her chin, clutching the fabric tight.
Through the thick weave of her odhni, she caught sight of a massive silhouette sitting at the same spot.
Agnijeet.
The soft chime of her bangles reached Agnijeet before her footsteps did. His gaze lifted, following the sound.
The mirrors around the room caught her from every direction. Between the flickering oil lamps, her silhouette appeared again and again in the glass, yet the one thing he had wanted to see remained hidden beneath the thick silk of her ghunghat.
His jaw tightened faintly. She had been turning her back towards him, guarding her face as though its sight were some forbidden privilege.
His gaze remained fixed on the veil hiding her features. A dinner tray sat on the table before him, the aroma of spices wafting through the air.
Dilshana went completely cold. The fragile sense of relief she had felt moments ago dissolved into raw panic.
Stumbling slightly under the weight of her silk, she backed away and sank onto the edge of the canopy bed, her eyes wide with terror behind her veil.
Unable to contain the storm inside her, her trembling voice cut through the stillness, laced with defiance. "Kaise insaan hai aap? Kaisi shatranj khel rahe hai humare saath? Seedhi tarah apna irada kyun nahi bata dete... kya chahte hai humase?"
(What kind of human are you? What kind of chess are you playing with me? Why don't you state your intention directly... what do you want from me?)
Agnijeet remained perfectly still for a few seconds, looking at her through the shadows. "Rasamein adhuri hain, Ardhangini... Abhi tumhari Muh dikhai baki hai."
(The rituals are incomplete, wife... Your Muh dikhai is still remaining.)
Slowly, He spread his knees, his hand came down with a firm slap on his thick thigh, his gravelly voice slicing through the room. "Aao, yahan aakar baitho, aur bhojan grahan karo. Lo, bata diya apna irada."
(So come, sit here, and take your meal. Here, I have stated my intention.)
The thud echoed sharply off the wall.
Dilshana felt as if the very soul had been ripped out of her body. She sat frozen on the edge of the bed, utterly paralyzed. The sheer audacity of his command, coupled with his raw arrogance, left her devoid of speech, breath, or movement.
Her eyes widened beneath the veil as she watched him pat his thigh, she muttered under her breath.
"Behaya janwar."
(Shameless beast.)
He calmly picked up a piece of flatbread and began to eat his dinner in the mirrored room. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling with a volatile mix of fear and agonizing physical weakness.
It had been well over two days since a single morsel of food had passed her lips. Her stomach burned with a nauseating hunger.
And there he sat, unbothered, ruthless, and shamelessly primal, calmly chewing his food.
Dilshana swung her feet off the bed. The silk of her skirt rustled voilenty. She took a deep breath and walked over, dropping down onto the couch, besides him.
She grabbed the heavy border of her thick veil, and yanked it completely off her face.
Their eyes slammed into each other in the flickering light of the lamps.
What was revealed before him was nothing short of a breathtaking temptation. Her flawless skin flushed a delicate rose. Her plump lips, bruised from exhaustion, and parted to let out a soft gasp, were an irresistible contrast to the fierce hatred burning in her hypnotic green eyes.
The silk drapery had slipped slightly, exposing the delicate arch of her neck and the pristine curve of her collarbones, where her rapid breath caused her chest to rise and fall in tantalizing rhythm.
She was a captured siren; dangerously alluring, and radiating a magnetic beauty.
Dilshana, too, was looking at him, and the sheer physicality of the man sitting before her made her pluse raced beneath her skin.
The last time she had truly seen him was on the battlefield, and later, when he had barged into her chamber. On that day, he had appeared like a breathing demon, reeking of iron and death, with strands of his hair literally dripping with blood.
But here, sitting in amber light of his chamber, his sharp jawline was shadowed by dark beard, while his brown eyes burned into hers with a intensity that made her skin prickle with an intoxicating terror.
His chest and carved abdominal muscles glinted golden, marked by jagged scars that only heightened his fierce masculine appeal.
His broad shoulders bled into muscular arms, veins running thick down his golden-brown skin.
He looked like a magnificent, lethal, and devastatingly attractive predator.
Her eyes betrayed her for the briefest moment, lingering on the red of his lips, frames perfectly by the sharp moustache, before she looked away.
Dilshana felt her breath hitch, her cheeks burning under his unblinking, gaze.
Agnijeet watched her, his gaze lingering over her face. "Tumhara yeh roop humare sanyam ke liye ghaatak siddh hoga."
(This appearance of yours will prove fatal to my restraint.)
Dilshana stared at him. Not a single word of his sentence made sense to her.
"Huh...?"
She turned her attention down to the plate and muttered under her breath."Bala ki galeez nigaahein."
(What filthy gaze.)
She picked up a piece of warm flatbread with her trembling fingers, taking her first bite into the quiet warmth of the room.
Agnijeet's hand moved slowly, shifting the silver bowl of kheer right in front of her. "Muh meetha karwao humara."
(Sweeten my mouth.)
Dilshana's eyes widened in sheer disbelief. Her jaw tight, she looked at him with a mixture of helplessness and rising disgust. Her voice trembled, "Chain se do niwale kha lene dijiye humein... guzarish karte hain aapse..."
(Let me eat a few morsels in peace... I beg of you...)
Agnijeet simply picked up the silver spoon, scooped a portion of the kheer, and brought it against her lips.
Dilshana's chest heaved with shallow breaths. Knowing there was no escape, she reluctantly parted her lips and took the spoon, swallowing the sweet dish along with the bitter tear that welled in her eye.
She instinctively turned her face away from him, refusing to meet his suffocating gaze any longer.
Every slow bite was a silent agony. She chewed softly, her crimson lips parting with every shallow breath. His eyes tracked the movement of her throat, capturing every single shiver that ran down her skin.
He sat beside her watching her surrender to her hunger, completely mesmerized by the hypnotic siren sitting right in his web as she finished her meal.
When she was about to move, his deep voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.
"Kahan hai?"
(Where is it?)
Dilshana recoiled slightly, her breath hitching at the sudden change in his tone. "Kya... kya kahan hai?"
(What... what is missing?)
"Humari angoothi," Agnijeet demanded, his eyes darkening. "Kahan hai wo mangalsutra?"
(My ring... Where is that mangalsutra?)
A wave of fear washed over Dilshana. Her hands instinctively flew to her bare collarbones as she stammered, backing away slightly. "W-Wo... wo aanchal mein ulajh raha tha... humne use rakh diya hai. Hum... hum abhi de dete hain aapko..."
(I-It... it was getting tangled in my veil... I have kept it. I... I will give it back to you right now...)
Agnijeet growled. "Mangalsutra hai wo... Koi khilaona nahi, jise tum jab chahe utaar kar rakh do."
(It is a mangalsutra... not a toy that you can remove and set aside whenever you wish.)
Dilshana gasped, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs in sheer terror.
Agnijeet pulled out a exquisitely crafted ornament from his side. It was a traditional mangalsutra strung with deep black and red beads, but in the center hung a gold pendant carved explicitly in the shape of roaring flames.
It was the unmistakable symbol of Agni.
Dilshana's eyes widened as she stared at the ornament in his hand. The dark beads, the sacred red, and his burning symbol resting in the middle, she recognized instantly what it was.
Agnijeet brought the chain around her neck. His rough fingers brushed against the sensitive skin at her nape.
He tied the clasp securely, letting the gold flame pendant drop heavily against the delicate dip between her chest, resting cold and unyielding directly over her hammering heart.
Dilshana trembled, her fingers rising to lightly touch the carved metal of the flame.

Agnijeet locked his gaze with her green eyes. His voice carried a chilling warning that bound her far tighter than any iron chains ever could.
"Yeh tumhari Mu-Dikhai ka uphar hai... Ise utaarna mat.."
(This is your Mu-Dikhai gift... Do not remove this...)
Dilshana sat frozen beneath his towering shadow, the black and red beads heavy against her skin, while his carved fire symbol beat in rhythm with her terrified heart.
•
The quiet hum of the night settled deeply over the fortress.
Dilshana stepped out into the garden to clear her head. She walked slowly along the stone path, her skirt whispering against the floorboards.
Yet, no matter how far her feet carried her, her gaze kept instinctively drifting back toward the chamber.
Inside, Agnijeet sat, illuminated by the light of a single oil lamp. He was leaning over a table, deeply engrossed in writing on thick paper sheets. He was completely absorbed in his work.
Dilshana watched him from afar, a restless curiosity flickering in her eyes before she walked back into the chamber.
She walked over to the bed and lay down, pulling the sheets over herself. Her face remained unveiled, but Agnijeet didn't looked up; his eyes stayed locked on the papers before him.
Dilshana found her attention drawn back to him again. Over the past two days, she had spent endless hours watching him sit in that exact room. Yet, not once had she seen his posture slacken. He sat on the couch with the rigid posture of a king holding court. His spine straight, his broad shoulders squared.
There was no tiredness in his body, no slumping, only an intimidating composure.
"Kaisi mitti ke bane hai yeh? Insan hai ya shaitan?" Dilshana muttered under her breath, her eyes burning with hatred. "Insaan hone ka koi namonishan hi nahi hai... bilkul chataan ki tarah behiss, na badan mein thakavat, na dil mein koi humdardi."
(What kind of clay is he made of? Is he a human or a devil? There is not a single trace of humanity in him... unfeeling just like a rock, neither any weariness in his body nor any sympathy in his heart.)
A short while later, Agnijeet finally set his quill aside.
He stood up and moved around the chamber, snuffing out the lamps one by one. Darkness slowly swallowed the room, leaving only the silver light of the moon spilling through the archways.
He walked over to the bed and lay down beside her. She curled up at the very edge of the mattress, her back turned toward him, her body tense in the dark. Instinctively, her hand fell limp on the mattress between them.
He reached out, firmly gripping her wrist, his grip locking her down against the mattress as he traced her veins with his thumb.
Dilshana didn't struggle. Drained of all strength and numb from the day's ordeal, she simply closed her eyes. "Ya Khuda... is sitam ko sota hi utha lena."
(Oh God... let this torment be taken away in his sleep.)
• The Mercy of a Captor •
As the morning arrived, the silence that had suffocated the grand chamber for days finally broke open the moment Agnijeet rode out of the fortress gates.
The change was instant, as if a dark cloud had suddenly parted to let the morning sun spill across the floor.
The doors creaked wide open, and Kumud stepped inside, accompanied by a fleet of handmaidens carrying urns, fresh linen, and fragrant incense.
The moment Kumud and the maids stepped inside, they stopped dead. Their eyes swept across the walls, their faces tightening with quiet astonishment at the sheer number of mirrors surrounding the chamber.
They moved swiftly, sweeping the floors, airing out the drapes, and filling the room with the scent.
Dilshana sat on the edge of the bed, watching the hustle and bustle with wide eyes. For the first time in days, the room felt alive.
Kumud walked over to the low wooden table, placing a platter loaded with fresh fruit, warm flatbread, and milk. She looked up at Dilshana and offered a soft smile.
Dilshana leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle.
"Kumud... what are those tiny blue blossoms you have placed in the brass bowl over there?"
Kumud looked toward the window sill and smiled warmly.
"Those are Neelkamal blossoms, Kuwrani Sa. They only bloom in the deep lakes near the southern ridge. Maa Saheb loves their fragrance."
Dilshana nodded slowly. It felt surreal to ask a simple question and actually receive a warm answer instead of crushing silence.
However, Dilshana's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. She paused, looking intently at Kumud.
"Kuwrani Sa? Aur unhe aap Kunwar Sa bolti hain? Par woh toh Senapati hain na? Phir yeh shahi alqaab kyu?"
(Kuwrani Sa? And you are calling him Kunwar Sa? But he is the Commander, isn't he? Then why these royal titles?)
Kumud lowered her eyes respectfully.
"Senapati toh unka pad hai, Kuwrani Sa... par is riyasat ke sabse bade Kunwar wohi hain. Iss bhoomi par unka uttaradhikar hai."
(Commander is his post, Kuwrani Sa... but he is the eldest Prince of this realm. His inheritance lies over this land.)
Dilshana sat back, processing the unexpected truth about the formidable man who had held her captive in silence for so long.
A few moments later, Kumud turned to Dilshana and offered softly, "Yadi aapki aagya ho, toh kya hum aapke snaan mein sahayata kar dein?"
(If you permit, may we assist you with your bath?)
Dilshana looked at Kumud, her tone laced with quiet hurt.
"Tum humse pehle ki tarah baat kyu nahi kar rahi, Kumud? Yeh 'aap-aap' bolkar mujhse itna fasla kyu bana rahi ho?"
(Why aren't you talking to me like before, Kumud? Why are you creating so much distance by addressing me with such formal respect?)
Kumud's eyes filled with warmth.
"Yeh aadar aapke pad ka hai. Par mere mann mein aapke liye apnapan kal bhi tha, aur aaj bhi hai."
(This respect is for your position. But in my heart, the affection for you was there yesterday, and it is still there today.)
Inside the bath area, Kumud and another handmaiden helped her unwind. They untangled her hip-length hair, pouring warm, scented water over her shoulders.
After the bath, they helped her dress in a vibrant royal attire. Kumud sat behind her, carefully combing through her damp tresses, drying them over a brazier of fragrant incense, and styling her long hair into a elegant braid.
At Yashodhara Devi's orders, Kumud adorned her with the appropriate royal jewellery and ornaments.
As twilight faded into deep night, Kumud completed their work and bowed low.
"We take your leave, Kuwrani Sa."
Dilshana was left alone in the vast chamber once again. She walked over to the bed, strangely peaceful. She lay down under the sheets, her mind untangled from the raw terror that had gripped her for days.
Right before her eyelids grew heavy, her eyes instinctively drifted toward the doors.
He was not coming tonight. The room was quiet, but for the first time, the quiet did not feel like a tomb. She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning brought an entirely new world. Although guards accompanied her at a distance, Dilshana was granted permission to step out and explore the vast palace grounds.
Everything here felt breathtakingly fresh and grand. Yet, as she walked past the high arches, a cynical thought crossed her mind.
"Us sangdil ki mehrbani sirf is liye hai ke humane apna chehra dikha diya?
(So, this stone-hearted man's mercy is only because I finally showed him my face?)
Kumud walked beside her, acting as her guide through the winding corridors, archways, and courtyards. They stepped into the royal gardens, and Dilshana's breath caught in her throat.
The garden was a lush paradise of blooming marigolds, sweet-smelling champa, and deep red roses. Marble fountains splashed cool water into turquoise pools, and the air was rich with natural fragrance.
She gently touched the petals of a golden flower, feeling a genuine ray of joy warm her heart.
Late that night, Dilshana sat alone in her chamber.
The oil lamps cast a golden glow across the room. She walked over to the mirror, looking at her reflection. A soft smile graced her lips.
She stared at her reflection... and suddenly, her smile froze.
The reflection in the mirror seemed to warp, staring back at her with terrifying clarity. A brutal realization slammed into her chest, shattering her newfound peace into a thousand bloody pieces.
What was she doing? How could she smile? How could she enjoy the comfort of silk, the fragrance of gardens, and the glitter of enemy gold?
Her past, her real identity, and her responsibility came rushing back like a dark wave.
Back home, beyond these high walls, in the dust and shadows of her birthplace, her mother's old eyes were counting every single breath she took.
A fragile soul was suffering, relying entirely on her sacrifice, praying for her return, waiting for her to fulfill her promise.
And here she was, playing the happy bride in the house of her captors.
"Nahi..." Dilshana gasped, pulling back from the glass as if it had burned her skin. "Yeh hum kya kar rahe hain?"
(No... What am I doing?)
A heart-ripping agony tore through her chest. The air left her lungs as tears burst violently from her eyes. She pressed both hands over her mouth to stifle the agonizing sobs.
"Khuda ke vaaste... humein maaf kar dijiye, Ammi." she wept silently, her voice breaking in stifled gasps. "Hum yahan aaram aur izzat ke jaal mein phasne nahi aaye the... Humein toh apna farz nibhana tha!"
(For God's sake... forgive me. I didn't come here to get trapped in the web of comfort and respect... I was supposed to fulfill my duty!)
She looked down at the bangles on her wrists and they felt like burning iron shackles binding her to a terrible betrayal.
Her knees buckled, and she sank to the floor, crushed under the suffocating weight of guilt and the unbearable pain of a waiting home.
• Just ten Years •
The next morning, Kumud stepped into the chamber with the morning tray and immediately noticed Dilshana's pale face and swollen eyes.
Kumud arranged for a wooden Chopar board with painted pieces to be brought to to be brought to the room.
She sat across from Dilshana on the floor cushion, patiently teaching her the rules of the ancient game.
Dilshana played mechanically, her mind heavy with guilt. But as hours slipped by, the rhythmic clack of the dice on the cloth board slowly pulled her in.
Dilshana lost herself in the game, laughing softly at a bad roll and listening to Kumud share lighthearted gossip about the palace maids.
Dilshana stared at the board for a long moment, absently rolling a wooden piece between her fingers. She asked in a quiet voice.
"Unki umar kya hai? Aur woh hamesha aise hi gayab rehte hain yahan se?"
(How old is he? And does he always remain vanished like this from here?)
Kumud looked up. "Kiski?"
(Whose?)
Dilshana didn't even lift her gaze.
"Aapke magroor sipahsalar ki."
(Your arrogant commander.)
Kumud bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. "Teintis varsh ke hain... aur unka koi thikaana nahi hota. Kab yuddh-bhoomi mein mil jaayein aur kab rajya ke kisi kone mein... iska hisaab toh shayad unhe bhi nahi hota."
(He is thirty-three years old, Kuwrani Sa... and even he probably doesn't know where he'll be next.. on the battlefield or in some distant corner of the kingdom.)
She tilted her head, a mischievous glint flickering in her eyes. "And how old are you?"
Dilshana rolled the dice. "Twenty-three."
Kumud blinked twice and the next instant, she dissolved into helpless laughter.
"Hay Ram... poore das varsh ka antar!"
(Good heavens... a whole ten-year difference!)
She leaned across the board, lowering her voice into a conspiratorial whisper.
"Tabhi toh pehli hi bhent mein humare Kunwar sa dil ki baazi haar baithe."
(No wonder our Kunwar sa lost his game of heart the very first time he saw you.)
Dilshana's brows knitted together.
"Kya matlab?"
(What do you mean?)
Kumud's smile only grew wider. She said, trying to suppress another laugh. "Jis purush ko koi kabhi hara na saka... use harit nayno ne pehli hi nazar mein bechain kar diya."
(I mean... the man whom no one could never defeat... was unsettled at first glance by a pair of green eyes.)
Dilshana reached across the board and gave her arm a light smack.
"Kumud! Bewakoof! Kuch bhi bolti ho!"
(Kumud! Idiot! You just say anything!)
Kumud burst into laughter again.
"Achha, achha... maar lijiye." She raised both hands in surrender, still giggling. "Lekin humne jhooth toh kuch nahi kaha."
(Alright, alright... hit me if you must. But I didn't say anything untrue.)
• The Manhunt •
The dust of thirty six hours of ruthless riding clung to Agnijeet's tunic like a second skin.
He had pushed his stallion through treacherous mountain passes, and riverbeds, covering vast miles without a single moment of rest. His jaw was set, his eyes bloodshot yet sharp, burning with the lethal focus of a predator closing in on its prey.
He was far beyond the jurisdiction of Mewar, deep inside the lawless territory of Kanthal. It's a haven for mercenaries, forgotten outcasts, and men who sold deadly secrets for gold.
Agnijeet wasn't traveling as a Commander with royal pomp; he rode with a tight contingent of ten of his most trusted soldiers, their faces concealed.
Inside the dimly lit upper chamber of an old iron refinery, Nagpal sat counting silver coins under the dull glow of an oil lamp. He was a rat of a man, thin and paranoid, who had survived a decade by staying hidden in the filthiest corners of the land.
Suddenly, the stray dogs in the alleyway below broke into a wild barking. Nagpal stood up and crept cautiously toward the window. He looked down into the moonlit alleyway.
And his blood ran cold.
A towering figure wrapped in dark cloaks was stepping out of the mist on horseback. The man carried an aura so terrifying, that the very air around him seemed to freeze.
Nagpal stared at him and an overwhelming terror slammed into his chest. That unyielding spine, that lethal presence, that terrifying demeanour, it was a sight Nagpal had never forgotten.
"Nahi... nahi, yeh nahi ho sakta..." Nagpal choked out as a violent tremor seized his body. "Yeh yahan tak pahunch gaya!"
(No... no, this cannot be... He has reached all the way here!)
Nagpal didn't waste a fraction of a second. Knowing that being caught meant unmerciful death.
He kicked open a hidden trapdoor concealed beneath a rug and threw himself down into the drainage tunnel, disappearing into the dark long before anyone reached the stairs.
A few minutes later, the door of the chamber was smashed to splinters.
Agnijeet barged into the room like a localized hurricane, his drawn blade catching the faint light of the lamp.
His men flooded the space behind him, blades bared, checking every corner with frantic speed.
"Clear!" one guard shouted.
"Clear!" yelled another from behind the partition.
Agnijeet stood in the center of the room, completely oblivious to the fact that Nagpal had fled mere minutes before he broke down the door.
There was no cool composure left in him. Two days of pushing his lungs to the limit, all to find an empty chamber.
The chair was overturned, and the trapdoor beneath the rug lay closed.
A raw rage exploded inside his chest. His veins bulged along his neck and forearms as his grip tightened on the hilt of his sword.
"Where is he?!" Agnijeet roared, his voice tearing through the empty refinery like a wounded beast, striking sheer terror into the hearts of his own men.
He stepped over to the wooden table and swung his sword with brutal strength.
The oak table shattered in two under the crushing blow, splinters flying across the room as the oil lamp crashed to the floor, spilling fire across the floorboards.
Twelve long years of searching. Twelve years of dead ends, silenced witnesses, and buried truths. And once again, the rat had slipped away.
Agnijeet turned his bloodshot eyes onto his guard, his voice dropping to a deadly growl that cut through the roaring fire.
Agnijeet snarled, pointing his blood-stained blade toward the doorway. "I am going to meet the King. Surround the whole of Kanthal! Seal every single path, every riverbank, and every back alley!"
"Ji Rana sa!" The soldiers rushed out like shadow demons, fanning out into the night to lock down every exit of the city, leaving Agnijeet standing alone amidst the burning splinters.
• The Strange Quite •
Another night passed, and Agnijeet did not return. His absence left a strange quiet in the vast chamber.
But the dark realization from the night before stayed rooted deep in Dilshana's chest like a jagged shard of glass.
The morning sun filtered through the high archways, indifferent to the turmoil in her heart.
Dilshana again found herself drawn into the quiet rhythm of the game with Kumud. For a few brief hours, the clatter of the dice on the wooden board provided a faint shield against her unbearable guilt.
They played round after round, the simple strategy game keeping the suffocating silence at bay.
Yet, as the twilight dissolved into a night, the fleeting distraction faded away.
After finishing her dinner, Dilshana stood near the center of the mirrored room.
Every reflection showed a girl trapped in silk, surrounded by luxury, yet utterly alone with her painful past.
The room felt too big, the silence too thick, and the shadows far too heavy to bear.
Dilshana walked over to the entrance, pulled open the door, and looked at the guard standing in the corridor.
"Kumud ko bulaiye."
(Call Kumud.)
The guard bowed.
Within minutes, Kumud arrived, her face lined with concern as she bowed before Dilshana. "Kuwrani Sa? Sab theek toh hai? Aapne is samay bulaya?"
(Kuwrani Sa? Is everything alright? You sent for me at this hour?)
Dilshana looked at her, her eyes filled with a vulnerable plea. "Tum aaj raat humare paas so jaogi?"
(Will you sleep beside me tonight?)
Kumud froze, a flash of deep hesitation crossing her features. She looked toward the empty bed and then back at Dilshana, her voice laced with anxiety.
"Par... Kunwar sa?... Yadi woh achanak laut aaye toh? Rajmahal ke niyamon ke anusar..."
(But... Kunwar Sa?.. What if he suddenly returns? According to the customs of the palace...)
Dilshana cut her off with a faint exhale, shaking her head.
"Woh pata nahi kab aayenge. Humein akele nahi rehna, Kumud. Bas humare paas ruk jao."
(There is no knowing when he'll return. I don't want to be alone, Kumud. Just... stay with me.)
Kumud offered a gentle nod. "As you wish. I'll spread a mattress on the floor."
As Kumud turned to gather a floor quilt, Dilshana caught her hand, stopping her firmly. "Nahi. Zameen par nahi. Tum humare saath is palang par so jao."
(No. Not on the floor. You will sleep here on this bed with me.)
"Kuwrani Sa, nahi... yeh maryada ke virudh hai," Kumud protested quickly, shocked by the suggestion. "Main ek daasi hoon."
(Kuwrani Sa, no... that would be against propriety. I am only a maidservant.)
Suddenly, Dilshana's voice broke.
"Naaz kaha kro hume."
(Call me Naaz.)
"Tum koi daasi nahi ho," Dilshana said softly, her voice leaving no room for argument as she guided Kumud toward the bed. "Humare paas so jao."
(You are not a maid. Come... sleep beside me.)
Kumud quietly yielded. She lay down on the far edge of the mattress, pulling a sheet over herself, while Dilshana lay on the other side, staring up at the carved ceiling.
Within minutes, Kumud's breathing turned deep as she fell fast asleep.
The chamber settled into absolute stillness.
Dilshana lay awake, listening to the soft sound of Kumud's breathing.
Slowly, instinctively, Dilshana lifted her hand in the dark. She turned her arm, her eyes drifting down to her own wrist.
She stared where his hand had rested just two nights ago. She could almost feel the phantom weight of his fingers locked around her skin.
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