Hey sakhis!
First of all, a huge thank you for all the love you've been showering on this story! Seriously, reading your unhinged comments and wild theories drives me crazy in the best way possible...
I absolute love it! Keep them coming!
Since you all have been so patient, I tried my best to make this chapter extra long and intense for you guys.
Chapter Target: 45 votes & 90 comments
Jaldi se target complete karo taaki agla chapter bhi jaldi aaye! Happy reading!
I love you ❤️
• Shattered Glass •
Agnijeet gripped her delicate wrist.
Instantly, Dilshana sat up.
Her eyes snapped open, she lunged forward, driving the sharp glass straight toward his chest, aiming directly over his heart.
Agnijeet moved with lightning speed.
Before the jagged glass could fully pierce his flesh, his grip clamped around her wrist. The glass went less than an inch deep.
Silence slammed into the chamber.
Dilshana's eyes dilated. Her hands trembled violently as she stared at the blood gushing out.
His grip on her wrist was bruising her delicate bone, yet her eyes remained locked onto his.
Her chest heaved with ragged breaths.
"Kal raat hamari bebasi ka jo fayda uthaya tha na aapne? Uski keemat sirf aapka yeh zaalim dil de sakta tha! Hum aapse nafrat karte hain... Sipahsalar... beinteha nafrat!"
(You took advantage of my helplessness last night, didn't you? The price for that could only be paid with your cruel heart! I hate you... Commander... I hate you beyond measure!)
The smirk on his sculpted face only widened. He stared into her wide green eyes, thoroughly enjoying the fire of her rebellion. "Fayda? Abhi kaha?"
(Advantage? Not just yet.)
Dilshana's blood ran cold at his words. She ground her teeth together. She braced her hand and fought desperately against his iron grip, trying with all her strength to drive the glass deeper into his flesh.
Dilshana spat as she struggled against his grip. "Behaya darinde... Haath chhodiye humara! Aaj aapka yeh siyah dil cheer denge hum!"
(Shameless beast... Let go of my hand! Today, I will tear this black heart of yours apart!)
Her chest heaved with hot breaths as she put her entire weight into pushing the glass.
The blood continued to drip down to sheets. He plucked the bloody glass from her trembling fingers as if taking a harmless toy from a child, and tossed it across the room.
The glass shattered against the far wall, leaving only the sound of their heavy breathing. He yanked her hard by the waist, slamming her flush in his side.
Dilshana gasped, recoiling instantly as the warm wetness of his blood smeared across her chest. She wriggled violently, pushing against his shoulders with every ounce of strength she possessed, but he remained an unyielding wall.
He looked down, tracking the trails of his blood as they trickled down his chest, sliding over the swell of her soft breasts and pooling in the deep valley of her cleavage. The vivid contrast of his dark blood against her skin was intensely raw and wild.
Dilshana slammed her hand over his open wound, digging her fingers into the fresh cut to force him back. "Chhodiye humein! Kitne zalim hain aap... humein ghin aati hai aapke is khun se, aapki is chhuan se!"
(Leave me! How cruel you are... I feel disgusted by your blood, your touch!)
His jaw hardened as he simply tightened his grip, yanking her even closer until there wasn't a breath of space left between them. His leg swept over hers, locking her lower body completely.
Agnijeet wrapped his fingers around the front of her delicate throat. His grip held her completely still. His thumb brushed over her jawline.
Dilshana's breath hitched, her eyes wide and wild with terror, locked onto his unblinking gaze.
He leaned down until his hot breath brushed against her trembling lips. His voice terrifyingly absolute against her mouth.
"So jao... Thak jaogi."
(Go to sleep... You must be tired.)
Suddenly, Dilshana froze. An unfamiliar pressure pressed firm and rigid against her thigh through the her skirt.
Her mind clouded with confusion. She thought it was the sheath of a dagger or a concealed weapon tucked into his waist. She tilted her head up, her eyes wide and bewildered as she searched his harsh face. "Yeh...? Aap...?"
(This...? You...?)
Agnijeet did not move an inch. He simply stared down into her eyes, his gaze utterly unapologetic.
In the next terrifying heartbeat, the realization hit her like a physical blow. It was not a weapon.
A wave of pure terror, and fierce disgust crashed over her. She thrashed frantically in his iron grip, twisting her body away as her voice broke into a loud scream.
"Laanat hai aapki belagaam hawas par! Aap par, aapke wajood par!" Dilshana spat out, her eyes burning with hatred and disbelief. "Sharam nahi aati aapko?! Insaan toh nahi ho sakte aap..."
(Curse your unbridled lust! Curse you and your very existence! Have you no shame?! You are certainly not human...)
Agnijeet looked down into her wild eyes, completely unbothered.
Dilshana ground her teeth, fighting him even harder, twisting her torso to escape his grip. But with every desperate movement, she felt the unyielding heat pressing deeper.
Agnijeet tightened his grip around her waist, his deep voice dropping against her ear like a heavy spell. "Shant ho jao... Jitna ladogi, utna zyada hoga..."
(Calm down... The more you fight, the more it will grow...)
Dilshana froze, staring up at him in paralyzed shock. "Kitne bad-kirdaar hain aap..." (How utterly caracter less you are...)
Agnijeet slowly stroked his thick thumb over the delicate skin of her throat, his eyes locking onto her parted lips. "Sach mein?" (Really?)
Dilshana swallowed hard, her chest heaving as the thick stickiness of his blood smeared between them. She looked at him, shedding her fierce aggression for a desperate plea. "Thoda sa toh door hatiye... Hum... aap bohot..."
(Move away at least a little... I... you are too much...)
Agnijeet instantly obeyed. He shifted slightly, just enough to give her space to breathe. She lay rigid, her chest heaving with uneven breaths.
As the long minutes ticked by in suffocating silence, she felt the ominous, thick stickiness of his blood soaking through her clothes, refusing to stop.
A sudden thought hit her like hammer. What if he he bled out?
The open wound gushing between them frightened her. Dilshana reached for her odhni. She gathered the fabric in her trembling fingers and pressed it gently on the wound, trying to staunch the continuous bleeding.
She looked up into his harsh face, her eyes shining with tears. "Humein... humein dawai lagane dijiye... Is zakhm par lep lagane dijiye..."
(Let me... let me apply medicine... let me apply a paste to this wound...)
His brows furrowed slightly. He looked down at her wide eyes and then at her hand pressing the cotton on his chest.
"Tumhe? Aur aushdhi lagane dein?"
(You? And let you apply medicine?)
Dilshana swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "Han. Bas yeh khun rokne dijiye..."
(Yes. Just let me stop this blood...)
Agnijeet did not yield. His jaw remained set, his eyes cold and unwavering.
"So jao."
(Go to sleep.)
She kept her odhni pressed over the bleeding wound, her palm resting on his rapid heartbeat.
Her struggles slowly died down, still holding the cloth, after what felt like an eternity, she drifted off into a sleep in his embrace.
He stayed awake in the silence, quietly watching her.
The pale light of dawn filtered into the chamber, heavy with the chill of early morning.
Dilshana stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. As her consciousness returned, the sickening weight of the previous night slammed back into her chest. The side of her face felt stiff.
She looked down and her breath caught in her throat. Her clothes, her body were smeared with dried blood. The odhni lay crumpled on the bedsheet, stiffened into a crusty red patch.
A rhythmic sound echoed from outside the archways. Dilshana pushed herself up and walked slowly toward the garden balcony.
Agnijeet was already awake. He was engaged in brutal physical conditioning. He raised heavy iron clubs, his muscles flexing as the wound over his heart pulled with every movement. A thin line of blood oozed from the cut, running down his carved abdomen, but his face remained wall of stone.
Dilshana turned around and marched straight toward the bathing area.
She stripped away her attire, letting it fall in a heap on the floor. Her skin bore the cruel marks of his grip, faint bruises shaped like fingers on her waist and a coat of dried blood over her chest.
She saw the cut where she had gripped the glass so tightly to drive it into his chest. It throbbed with a dull ache.
She poured the water over her skin, watching the dried blood dissolve into pale pink streams that swirled across the surface toward the drain.
A stinging pain shot through her injured palm as the water hit the cut, but she ignored it completely, continuing to rinse the crimson stains away.
She grabbed a coarse cloth and began to scrub her skin. She dragged the cloth on her breasts and neck until her skin turned burning, and red, trying to scrape away his blood.
Tears of welled in her eyes, spilling down her hot cheeks, but she didn't stop until her skin felt utterly raw.
She dressed in a simple lehnga. Her raven hair hung loose down her hips. She ignored the bangles, the jewelry, and the red sindoor sitting on the vanity table. She left her forehead and wrists bare.
She saw Agnijeet heading toward bath area as she walked to the main door and opeed it. A guard stood outside at distant. "Senapati ko zakhm laga hai... unke liye sabse tez lep aur patti lekar aaiye. Abhi."
(The Commander is injured... bring the strongest medicine paste and bandages for him. Right now.)
The guard hesitated for a second, then bowed and hurried down the corridor.
A short while later, a knock echoed. Kumud stepped inside carrying a silver tray laden with a morning meal, a clay jar containing the green medicinal paste sent by the Vaidya, and clean cotton bandages.
Dilshana stepped forward, reaching her hand out to take the jar. The moment she did, Kumud gasped, her eyes widening as she caught sight of bloody wound on her open palm.
"Naaz... yeh kya hua?" Kumud whispered as she set the tray down on the table.
(Naaz... what happened here?)
Kumud took Dilshana's bleeding hand gently in hers. Tears pooled in Kumud's eyes as she carefully applied the soothing green paste over Dilshana's palm and bound it tightly with a fresh strip of cotton.
As the herbs bit into the cut, Dilshana winced slightly, and Kumud instinctively leaned closer, blowing cool air over her wounded palm to ease the burning sting.
Kumud pulled her into a tight embrace. Dilshana buried her face against Kumud's shoulder, holding onto her like a lifeline in this hostile palace.
As Dilshana rested her head over Kumud's shoulder, her eyes happened to glance toward the mirror across the room. She caught sight of Agnijeet standing in the shadows near the bath chamber entrance. His unblinking eyes were fixed on the two of them through the reflection.
Kumud pulled back gently, wiping her own tears before bowing low. "Main abhi aagya chahti hoon, Kuwrani Sa..."
(I take your leave now, Kuwrani Sa...)
As Kumud retreated, the crushing quiet returned to the vast room. Agnijeet walked into the chamber, sat down on the couch, and reached for the apple on the silver tray.
Dilshana stood near the bed, clutching the small jar of leftover medicinal paste.
She swallowed her pride.
"Aap... aap sabka yahan aana rukwa toh nahi denge na?"
(You... you won't stop everyone from coming here, will you?)
Agnijeet paused, his fingers resting on the plate. He slowly lifted his head, his eyes locking onto hers, silently taking in her bare forehead, her loose hair, and the hidden terror of solitude reflecting in her eyes.
He offered no verbal answer. He simply sat back on the couch, watching her.
Dilshana took a slow step forward. "Humein sirf yeh dawai lagane dijiye. Yeh dawai aapke hi hakim ne bhejwayi hai."
(Let me... at least let me apply this medicine. Your own physician has sent it.)
Dilshana lowered herself onto the edge of the couch beside him. Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened the clay jar, scooping the cool green paste onto her fingertips.
She leaned in close, avoiding his intense gaze and pressed the medicine gently over the open gash on his chest.
He leaned back slightly, his eyes fixed on her face. "Foonk maro..."
(Blow on it...)
Dilshana froze. Her eyes snapped up to meet his, completely stunned. She stared at him in utter disbelief, her lips parting slightly. "Hunh?"
"Jal raha hai... foonk maro," he repeated.
(It's burning... blow on it.)
She knew a flesh wound like this couldn't possibly make him feel pain, let alone complain about a sting. He had seen Kumud blowing air on her palm through the mirror.
She swallowed hard, leaned a fraction closer to his chest, blowing cool aur on his chest. He slowly lifted his hand. His fingers tangled gently into her loose hair. He stroked her damp tresses slowly, running his hand down the length of her hair, feeling its silkiness against his palm.
Her breath hitched. She slowly looked up, her eyes locking into his lethal gaze.
They were so close that she could feel his hot breath against her tample, his thumb lightly grazing her jaw near her neck.
Neither of them moved, their eyes trapped in a lock where hatred and raw tension pulled them dangerously tight.
Suddenly, the loud voice of the guard announced Yashodhra Devi's arrival from the corridor.
Dilshana's breath hitched in her throat. Her wide eyes snapping toward the entrance as she stood up instantly.
The doors swung open.
Yashodhara Devi stepped into the room, her presence heavy with an overwhelming tension. Kesar walked right behind her with rigid steps.
Flanking them both were Vishwajeet and Vijaydev.
Yashodhara Devi's piercing eyes swept across the room and landed on Agnijeet sitting on the couch. The moment her gaze locked onto the medicinal paste on his chest, the red edges of the gash, and Dilshana standing bare-wristed beside him, her temper flared into an immediate blaze.
Yashodhara Devi's voice boomed off the high stone walls, vibrating with fury. "Agni! Yeh zakhm kaisa? Kisne kiya yeh?!"
(Agni?! What is this wound? Who committed this?)
Agnijeet remained completely quiet on the couch. His expression remained an unyielding wall of stone, showing no pain, no discomfort, and offering not a single word of explanation to his mother.
Kesar took a slow step forward, her eyes burned with a bitter hatred. She glanced briefly at the blood-tinged wound before turning her gaze toward Dilshana.
"Yeh ladki aapke praan le legi, Devar Sa," Kesar spoke, her voice laced with deadly quiet conviction. "Aap jaante hain in Saltanat-e-Shahraz walon ki fitrat ko. Yeh ladki koi dulhan nahi, ek shraap hai. Yeh shraap hamare poore vansh ko kha jayega."
(This girl will take your life, Brother-in-law. You know the true nature of the people of Sultanat-e-Hazira. This girl is no bride, she is a curse. This curse will consume our entire bloodline.)
Agnijeet slowly lifted his head. His gaze softened just a fraction as he looked at Kesar, bowing his head slightly.
"Bhabhi Sa, aap chinta na karein. Hum theek hain."
(Sister-in-law, do not worry. I'm fine.)
Agnijeet's defensive tone shattered the last remnants of Yashodhara Devi's patience. She took a aggressive step toward Dilshana, her hand trembling with pure rage.
Agnijeet swiftly stood up, stepping into his mother's path.
Yashodhra Devi's gaze remained locked on Dilshana. "Tujh jaisi dhokebaz ko taykhane ki jagah bhavan ki chhaya mili, aur tune apne hi pati par hath uthane ka dussahas kiya?!" Yashodhara Devi's voice shook the room. "Apne suhaag ke seene par prahar karte hue teri aatma na kaampi? Yahi shiksha mili hai tujhe?"
(A wicked woman like you got shelter in this palace instead of a dungeon, and you dared to raise your hand against your own husband?! Did your soul not tremble while striking the chest of your husband? Is this the teaching you received?)
Dilshana stood straight in her place. Her hands were trembling, but her eyes held no fear, no regret, and no surrender.
She lifted her chin high, her chest heaving as she spat her words.
"Shohar? Kis baat ke shohar? Kis haq ki begum?"
Dilshana's voice rang clear and fierce. "Hum is zabardasti ke rishte ko, is shadi ko sire se kharij karte hain! Na yeh magroor sipahsalar humare shohar hain, aur na hum inki begam! Jahan rishte zor-zabardasti aur lahu ki pyas par bandhe jayein, wahan sirf nafrat paida hoti hai. Hum is Iblis ko apna shohar kabhi nahi maanenge!"
(Husband? Husband by what right? Wife by what right? I reject this forced relationship, this marriage completely! Neither is this arrogant commander my husband, nor am I his wife! Where relationships are tied by force and bloodlust, only hatred is born. I will never accept this devil as my husband!)
The absolute refusal echoed through the room, freezing the very air inside the chamber.
"Apne shabdo par kabu rakh, ladki!" Yashodhara Devi roared, stepping even closer, her eyes flashing like thunderbolts.
(Control your words, girl!)
Agnijeet raised two fingers, offering a subtle signal to his brothers near the door.
Vishwajeet and Vijaydev stepped forward, seamlessly placing themselves between Rajmata's fury and Dilshana's fiery rebellion.
"Maa Saheb... kripya aap shant ho jaiye," Vishwajeet spoke, his voice deeply respectful. "Yahan aashanti failane ka koi arth nahi hai."
(Maa Saheb... please calm down. Spreading unrest here will yield no solution.)
Vijaydev bowed his head toward Kesar, his tone grounded in pristine courtliness. "Bhabhi Sa, aap Maa saheb ko unke kaksh tak le chaliye."
(Sister-in-law, please escort Maa saheb to her quarters.)
Yashodhara Devi cast one deadly glance at Dilshana before turning on her heel, her silk drapes swishing loudly as Kesar guided her out.
As they stepped out of the room, Yashodhra Devi ordered Kesar in a quite voice. "Suryakot sandesha bhijwaiye. Sunaina se kahiye sighr aa jaye."
Vishwajeet and Vijaydev walked right behind them, escorting them down the corridor to ensure the storm had fully passed.
Agnijeet had given no reaction to his mother's rage, nor had he uttered a single word in response to Dilshana's defiance. He cast one unblinking look at Dilshana, taking in her flushed face and her bare wrists.
He dressed up and walked out of the chamber, his footfalls fading down the hallway.
After escorting Yashodhara Devi and Kesar, Vishwajeet and Vijaydev walked back through the corridors. They turned into a secluded archway near the inner courtyard, completely shielded from the view of the palace guards.
The moment they were in the clear, Vijaydev stopped walking. His demeanor cracked completely, and a grin broke across his face. He let out a breathless laugh that he had been holding in for the last fifteen minutes.
Vishwajeet tried his best to maintain his usual composure, but his lips twitched, and he finally let out a chuckling sigh, shaking his head.
"Iblis?" Vijaydev snorted, leaning his shoulder against a pillar. "Maa Saheb ke muh par humare Rana sa ko seedhe 'Iblis' bola! Aur woh bhi itne ahenkar ke sath! Maine aaj tak kisi mein itna dussahas nahi dekha!"
(Devil? Right in front of Maa Saheb's face she called our Rana sa a straight-up 'Devil'! And that too with such ego! I have never seen such audacity in anyone before!)
"Aur sabse vichitra baat toh yeh thi," Vishwajeet said, his eyes glinting with a wicked amusement, "ki Bhai Sa wahan aise viraajmaan the jaise unki koi raaj-prashansa ho rahi ho! Unke mukh par ek shikan tak nahi aayi."
(And the most strange part was that Brother sat there as if he were receiving some royal praise! Not a single crease appeared on his face.)
Vijaydev shook his head, his laugh turning into a smirk. "Unhe har vishay me seedha aur saral drishtikon pasand hai... kintu lagta hai Rani Sa unhe pratidin ek naya dand dene wali hain. Iblis... adbhut!"
(Brother likes a direct and simple approach in everything... but it seems Queen is going to give him a new punishment every single day. A devil... marvelous!)
Vishwajeet added smoothly, adjusting the cuffs of his tunic as he began walking again. "Aisa pratit hota hai ki Bhai sa is yuddh ka poora anand le rahe hain."
(It seems Bhai sa is thoroughly enjoying this war.)
•
Dilshana stood frozen in the center of the silent chamber.
Tears broke free, burning down her cheeks. The raw adrenaline that had fueled her defiance evaporated, leaving behind a hollow weight.
She walked slowly to the bed, her knees trembling. She collapsed onto the sheets, curling into a tight ball, her body shaking with bitter sobs. Her tear-stained face pressed into the pillow, crying until exhaustion finally pulled her under into a dark sleep.
Then came the nightmare.
Fragments of her past shattered into her mind like jagged glass. She saw shadowy figures looming over her, heavy blows landing on her back, leaving behind agonizing burns.
A brutal slap crashed across her face, sending her spinning into the dust of distant sand-swept lands.
The nightmare shifted, revealing the dark terms of a heartless trade. Her own family, locking her into an unwanted bond. She felt the chains of that forced alliance pulling tight around her throat.
Then came the memory of her mother.
The sound of muffled weeping echoed inside a room. A young Dilshana lay huddled under a thin blanket, staring with wide eyes at the thin fabric curtain dividing the space.
Dilshana's eyes snapped wide open.
She sat up on the bed, her breathing ragged, her skin soaked in a sweat. The morning light cast long shadows through the high windows, but the tears on her face had completely dried.
The despair in her eyes was gone, replaced by a hardened determination. She looked at her bare wrists and then at the doors of the grand chamber.
To her this place was just another cell, and Agnijeet was just another shadow trying to shackle her destiny.
Her mind cleared with a burning purpose that she had to find a way out of this fortress. She had to survive, break free from these stone walls, and go back to reach her mother.
• Shadows on the Throne •
Inside the dimly lit study, a young maid finished whispering the details of the morning's disturbance inside Agnijeet's chamber. She bowed low, her hands trembling slightly, and retreated hastily out of the double doors.
Kalavati turned around as she looked toward Durgpal. "You do not need to stress over an heir coming from that chamber anytime soon," Kalavati said, a satisfied smile touching her lips. "Agnijeet's forced marriage is nothing more than a battlefield. They are drawing blood, and tearing each other apart."
Durgpal let out a quiet smirk, swirling the wine in his brass cup as he absorbed the news.
Sangram stepped forward into the light, his face flushed with frustration. "That is not our only problem. Agnijeet has flatly refused to send Vishwajeet to the border. He wants to send Kirtipal to command the post instead."
Kalavati remained completely unbothered, adjusting her gold bangles. "Yes, and what is wrong with that? Let Kirtipal go to the frontiers and learn how to wield a sword for once. He spends all his days lounging in the luxury of this palace anyway."
Sangram turned his gaze toward her, his lip curling into a venomous sneer. "Tum humari maa nahi ho, Kalavati. To banne ka paryatn bhi mat kro."
(You are not our mother, Kalavati. So do not try to act like one.)
Durgpal slammed his cup onto the table with a deafening crash, his voice booming across the room. "Mind your tongue, Sangram! You will address her with respect!"
Sangram clenched his fists, leaning over the table, his eyes burning. "Are you the King of this realm, or is Agnijeet? Why do you tolerate his insolence? Why don't you simply remove him from our path? It is simple. We orchestrate an ambush for Agnijeet on his next patrol. Once the beast is dead, Vishwajeet will be left entirely exposed. We cut Vishwajeet down right after, and the crown, the throne, and the entire army will belong to us without a single obstacle left."
Durgpal stared at his son for a long moment, his eyes filled with pure disgust. "You shortsighted fool," Durgpal spat, his voice dropping into a lethal whisper. "Do you truly believe killing Agnijeet is as simple as setting a trap in the woods? You have no concept of what that man represents. Agnijeet is the shield of Mewar. His strength, his military genius, and his courage are the only reasons our enemies tremble. If Agnijeet falls tomorrow, Mewar will crumble into dust within six months."
Durgpal leaned closer, looking at Sangram with cold contempt. "And Vishwajeet? You think you can just sweep him aside? His mind controls our royal treasury, our intelligence networks, and every single alliance holding this kingdom together."
Durgpal shook his head bitterly, looking at Sangram. "I am cursed with useless, brainless sons who know only how to drink and brag, yet possess not an ounce of the intellect or valor required to rule."
Sangram let out a bitter laugh, taking a step closer to his father without an ounce of fear left in his eyes. "To isme humari kya bhul hai, Pita ji?"
Sangram spat out with deep poison in his voice. "Agnijeet aur Vishwajeet waise hain... kyunki unke dhamaniyo mein aapke bade bhai, Swargiya Maharana Udayraj Singh Rathore ka rakt daud raha hai! Ek sachhe Shoorveer aur Kartvaynishth Raja ka rakt. Aur hum dono bhai? Hum bilkul aapke jaise hain."
(So how is that our fault, Father? Agnijeet and Vishwajeet are like that... because the blood of your elder brother, the late Maharana Udayraj Singh Rathore, runs through their veins! The blood of a true warrior and a duty-bound King. And us two brothers? We are just like you.)
The words hung in the air like a lethal blade. Durgpal's jaw tightened, his face turning pale with rage at the bitter truth thrown back into his face.
"Tum Yuvraj ho kyunki hum is sinhasan par baithe hain. Apni aukaat mat bhulo."
(You are the Crown Prince because I sit on this throne. Do not forget your place.)
He pointed a harsh finger directly at Sangram's chest. "You have been married for years and you haven't even managed to produce a single male heir for this bloodline. I am arranging your second marriage. If you cannot give me a lineage, you are utterly worthless to this throne."
Kalavati smoothly stepped between them, her tone calm and calculating as she diverted the topic. "Let us save this argument for another time," Kalavati said softly, placing a hand on Durgpal's arm. "The spies we sent to Ratangarh will report back very soon with the complete truth about that girl's identity. Once we know who she truly is, we will plan our next move."
• The Tyrant's Routine •
Three days had passed since Agnijeet rode out of the fortress.
Dilshana used his absence to her advantage. Every single day, under one pretext or another, she stepped out of her chamber, taking mental notes of the guards' shifts, the archways, the exit routes, and the exact timing of the patrol rotations.
During these walks, one thing became bitterly clear to her: Kesar's unyielding resentment. Whenever she crossed paths with Dilshana in the wide hallways, her face would instantly harden into a cold mask. Without offering a single word or a glance, Kesar would turn on her heel and walk away.
Today, Dilshana was walking through the royal gardens, accompanied by Kumud and a fleet of handmaidens. The garden was ablaze with blooming marigolds and sweet-scented champa.
Dilshana could feel the eyes of armed Mewari guards watching her every single step from a respectful distance.
As she gently brushed her fingers against the flowering bush, a calm shadow approached.
Vishwajeet walked into the garden path. His posture was, as always composed and dignified.
He offered a low, formal bow. He greeted her smoothly, his tone polite and civil. "Bhabhi sa, aasha hai aapko koi kasht nahi ho raha hai."
(Bhabhi Sa... I hope you are experiencing no discomfort.)
Dilshana paused, offering a faint smile to maintain the formal boundary.
"Sab theek hai. Humein kisi cheez ki takleef nahi hai."
(Everything is fine. I am facing no discomfort.)
Vishwajeet said with quiet courtliness. "Agar aapko kisi cheez ki avashyakta ho, toh Kumud ke dwara humein sandesh bhej sakti hain."
(If you require anything, you may send a message through Kumud.)
"Shukriya," she nodded gently.
(Thank you.)
Vishwajeet offered another nod and turned on his heel to walk back toward the central court.
Dilshana watched his receding back. She meant to stay silent, but before her mind could restrain her tongue, an unguarded question slipped out of her mouth, her voice barely carrying across the splashing of the fountain. "Woh kab aayenge?"
(When will he return?)
Vishwajeet stopped in his tracks. Slowly, he turned back around to face her, his expression deliberately blank and innocent. "Kaun, Bhabhi sa Sa?"
(Who, Bhabhi Sa?)
Dilshana froze, a sudden rush of warmth creeping up her neck as she bit the inner lining of her cheek, cursing herself for asking. She looked away for a fraction of a second before forcing the words out.
"Aapke... aapke Bhai Sa..."
(Your... your Brother...)
A suppressed amusement danced deep within Vishwajeet's eyes, though his face remained a calm mask.
"Unka toh sirf Vijaydev ko pata hota hai, Bhabhi Sa. Unki chaal aur unke raste... sirf Vijaydev hi samajhta hai."
(Only Vijaydev knows about him. His moves and his paths... only Vijaydev understands.)
Before Dilshana could cover up her blunder, Vishwajeet stepped forward and bent down, bowing low to touch her feet, his lips twitching with a suppressed laugh.
Vishwajeet straightned up with an utterly stoic face, though the mischievous spark in his eyes gave him away completely.
"Hum aagya chahte hain."
(I take your leave.)
He turned and walked away down the stone path with measured strides.
Dilshana stood rooted to the spot, her eyes wide with utter mortification. Her cheeks burned a fiery red, her fists clenching inside the folds of her drape, completely furious at herself for letting that foolish question slip past her lips.
Another two days passed, and the chamber remained as cold and quiet as a tomb.
Dilshana tried to focus entirely on her plan to escape, meticulously mapping out the fortress in her mind. Yet, against her own will, her thoughts kept drifting back to him. The long silences of the room felt strangely heavy, as if his absence was a presence of its own.
On the night of the second day, Dilshana sat on the plush couch, her mind lost in the flickering flames of the oil lamp.
The iron latch clicked. The sound broke the silence like a whip. Dilshana went completely rigid, her pulse hammering against her ribs as the doors swung open.
Agnijeet walked in.
He moved with a dangerous languor. He unbuckled his sword-belt, letting it hit the floor with a dull thud, followed by his tunic. He walked toward the raised bed platform.
Dilshana sat rooted to the couch, her fingers clutching her skirt tightly.
He slowly turned his head, his razor-sharp gaze cutting through the dim light to lock onto her shivering form. His eyes traced her face, taking in her bare forehead, her bare wrists devoid of bangles, and her loose hair.
"Yahan aakar so jao."
(Come here and go to sleep.)
An icy shiver ran down Dilshana's spine. She shrank back into the cushions, her eyes burning with a mix of fear and defiance.
When she made no move to obey, Agnijeet simply turned and crossed the distance between them with predatory strides, looming over her like a dark cloud.
Before she could scramble away, his hands swooped down, effortlessly hoisting her off the couch. Dilshana gasped, her hands instinctively grabbing his shoulders as he carried her across the room and threw her onto the mattress.
She bounded on the metress, muttering a curse under her breath. "Zalim... Khuda gharat kare aapko..."
(Tyrant... May God destroy you...)
She scrambled backward toward the pillows, her breath coming in ragged hitches. She braced herself, turning onto her side to face the wall.
She expected the usual sequence, for him to lie down, clamp his iron grip around her wrist, and close his eyes in stoic silence.
Instead, Agnijeet shifted onto his side and yanked closer.
He wrapped both arms completely around her, burying her in a suffocating hold. Dilshana trembled violently. Trapped within the furnace of his skin, her cheek was slammed directly over his heart.
But she desperately wedged her hands between then, locking to keep a sliver of space between them and stop him from completely crushing her against him.
The thunderous rhythm beneath her ear was wild, heavy, and dangerously fast tonight. He was claiming every single inch of space, leaving her no room to draw a clean breath.
Swallowing the lump of fear, Dilshana spoke into his chest, her voice shaking despite her best efforts.
"Humne aapki valida se keh diya hai. Hum is zabardasti ki shadi ko nahi mante. Hum aapko apna shohar kabhi nahi manenge."
(I told your mother. I do not accept this forced marriage. I will never accept you as my husband.)
His deep voice rumbled low against the crown of her head, completely flat and unbothered. "Koi baat nahi. So jao."
(It's fine. Go to sleep.)
Agnijeet tightened his hold, crushing her closer. His hot breath fanned over her brow, thick with a dark, simmering heat that made her entire body burn.
Dilshana tilted her face upward, her green eyes shining with unshed tears as she looked into his harsh, carved jawline.
"Humein dar lagta hai aapse... bahut dar lagta hai..."
(I am afraid of you... I am so afraid of you...)
Agnijeet slowly shifted his gaze down to her face. His thumb reached out, tracing the trembling curve of her lower lip before sliding down to her jaw.
He leaned in with agonizing slowness, until his lips were just a breath away from the sensitive skin of her throat.
He trailed his hand over the small of her back before his long fingers slid deliberately underneath her silk odhni.
He slipped his palm beneath the fabric, the rough texture of his skin making first contact with the smooth, bare skin of her waist.
The moment his bare hand touched her, a violent shockwave ran straight down her spine. Dilshana gasped, a sharp sound catching in the back of her throat as her stomach instinctively squeezed tight.
Agnijeet paused, his thumb pressing into her side before he traced slow circle on her skin. The friction sent a strange electricity coiling through her.
She lost all breath. Her fingers instinctively bunched into his chest, her nails digging into his flesh as if desperately trying to anchor herself in the middle of a storm.
He stopped moving and rumbled, his voice laced with absolute authority.
"Tumhe dar lagta hai ke tumhe humari bahon ki aadat pad jayegi..."
(You are afraid that you will get addicted to my arms...)
His gaze dropped to her mouth, the heat between them turning razor-sharp.
Dilshana's eyelids fluttered shut, her lips parting slightly as she turned her head away from his suffocating gaze.
Her chest heaved, her entire body trembling in a desperate bid for control.
"Aisa kabhi nahi hoga."
(That will never happen.)
Agnijeet stared down at her flushed neck and parted lips for a long moment.
Slowly, he shifted his weight, pulling her head into the crook of his shoulder. His hand moved between them. He caught her wrist, tracing her veins with a rhythmic stroke.
Within minutes, the steady rise and fall of his chest signaled that he had surrendered to sleep, leaving her lying wide awake in the dark, burning under the lingering ghost of his touch.
The days blurred into an intoxicating haze. A whole week slipped by in the exact same dangerous routine, each night pulling her deeper into an unspoken web.
It was not a softness in the quiet that settled between them when the oil lamps burned low. It was an unyielding battle of endurance.
Every single meal turned into another battlefield. Dinner and breakfast were always served on a single silver tray.
Once, Dilshana refused to touch the food, turning her face away in defiance.
"Humein nahi khana aapke sath."
(I do not want to eat with you.)
Agnijeet simply leaned back, his icy gaze locking onto her face, his tone dry as dust. "Keval hawa ke sahare jeene ka hunar aata hai... toh thik hai."
(If you possess the art of surviving on air alone... then it is fine.)
Dilshana spat out, her eyes burning with defiance.
"Nahi ji sakte toh mar jayenge!"
(If I cannot live, I will die!)
His sculpted face remained a stone wall.
"Bhookh se marna itna saral nahi hai, ardhangini. Itni yaatna sahne ka saahas hai tumhein?"
(Dying of hunger is not that simple, wife. Do you truly have the courage to endure such torture?)
Every night, the moment the doors snapped shut, Agnijeet would reach for her without a word, his hands locking around her waist to drag her in his embrace.
Dilshana simply allowed him to pull her in, knowing that resistance was useless. His skin radiated an oppressive heat that suffocated her resistance.
But she desperately wedged her hands flat against his chest every single night, locking her elbows to keep a sliver of space between them.
Agnijeet never forced her arms away. He simply let her hands stay trapped between their chests, resting his chin above her head. While, she would lie rigid, staring up at the beams of the ceiling.
Sometimes in the dead of night, as she tossed and turned, Dilshana would roll over, her back turning to his chest. Her odhani would shift, leaving their bare skins grazing against each other. A jolt of panic would hit her, and she would carefully slide away.
But as her eyes fluttered open in the dim light, she would catch their reflection in the wall mirror opposite the bed. Agnijeet would be lying behind her, fast asleep, his hand resting firmly over her waist.
She remembered the war, the blood on his hands, the humiliation of her captivity, and the cruel dominance with which he commanded her very breath.
She was trapped under a monster whose hands held the power to destroy her.
Her real identity, the blood-soaked history, and the deadly deception she carried in her veins were all being slowly crushed beneath his weight.
Every time his length
8 pressed in her hip, she felt the horrifying reality of what she was doing. She knew that when the truth finally surfaced, this rhythm would turn into an absolute slaughter.
He would crush her without hesitation, and she would try to slit his throat in return.
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