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Rehana POV

"I do not know, Abbujaan. It is different. Also, she is just a child yet," the moment I heard those words, a deep pain coursed through my heart.

He said he loved me.

"A child?" Sultan laughed, and he laughed in response.

So, he did not love me.

"I mean, she... is... I mean, she does not understand many things," Sultan said, and I stepped back from the pillar, turning around to walk back to his chamber.

Why did not he say that he loved me?

Was he joking all that time?

My heart felt heavy, and with the hurried steps, I came back to his chamber.

I was a fool.

I wanted to see him. So, the first thing I did this morning was to change my clothes and see him. An attendee told me that he was there with his father.

That was why I went there.

The moment I stepped inside the chamber, my anklet twisted while stepping down the stairs, and a deep pain coursed through my body.

My scream echoed in the chamber, and within a few moments, the attendees ran to me.

"Mallika,"

"Sultana,"

"Begum,"

Their distinct voices felt way too distinct.

The pain of the ankle twisting was nothing compared to the pain in my heart.

He had nothing for me. He considered me a child, not teasingly but actually.

That meant I was nothing but a mere responsibility and burden for him.

"Be careful, Mallika." The attendees' voices caught my attention, and they tried to walk me to the couch.

But I shook my head.

I could manage that pain. It was nothing. I did not need anything.

"Please leave me alone," I requested, letting more tears roll down my cheeks.

But Shefali's grip on my hand tightened as my foot felt cranked.

"Leave me alone," I raised my voice, giving up in the anger.

The attendees stepped back, and Shefali kneeled before me as I took the couch.

"What happened? Rehana. Are you hurt?" she asked, and the way her hand caressed my knee, I knew she was not talking about the ankle.

"You can leave Mallika to me," Shefali said to the other attendees, and I could not help but break into even more cries.

How could he joke about me?

I was not a child.

The attendees walked out, and I sobbed harder.

"What happened? Tell me," Shefali asked, and I looked into her sad eyes. The emotions of loathing on her face were familiar.

She would have those eyes and expressions whenever I would be internally hurt.

But I did not know why a part of me, just a little bit, did not want to tell her anything.

"Nothing," I followed that part.

"Why are you crying? I know it is not about your ankle," she said, lowering her gaze down to my ankle and holding it gently yet firmly.

And, with one swift move, she twisted it a little bit, earning a slight scream from me before the pain actually went away.

"Are you okay?" she asked, and I nodded, sobbing even more.

He was not serious all that time. The nickname, the moments we spent, everything—he was not serious at all. He was just playing with me.

And how could he say that he loved me when he actually felt nothing for me?

Was I just a child to him?

What did he want from me?

I wanted to be anything for him. I could do anything for him, but how could I until I did not know what he wanted from me?

Inhaling a deep breath of frustration, I could not help but look at Shefali with hope.

"Tell me, Rehana. I might be able to help," she asked, and I nodded.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I tried to tell her.

"He does not love me,"

The moment those words escaped my mouth, I cried even more.

"He does not feel anything for me. He just thinks of me as a child, a young girl needing security, shelter, and care. And, all this while, he was just doing that. And, foolish me. I thought he had something for me. He does not have anything for me, Shefali. I am falling into the never-ending well of hope. And my stupid life had always been like this. I am relying on hoping for something good to happen to me. But, it does not," my voice trembled at the end, and Shefali also cried, shaking her head.

"No, Rehana. Why would you say that? He loves you. He cares about you so much," she said, and I chuckled. She also fell for his charm.

"No, he does not love me at all. He cares about his horse as well. Do you think he loves him? If his horse died, he would get another stronger one to ride," I explained, sniffing and trying to calm myself down.

And I could not help but remember my father even more. At least his love for me was real. At least he was the one who actually cared about me.

He still did.

He came back for me. He was worried about me all the while.

Closing my eyes, I gulped silently, shaking my thoughts off.

But he was my husband. I could not even think of anything but him. I knew my father was here to take me away, and he thought Jaan-e-Jahan was the culprit. But he was not.

And I knew it.

He came into my life when no one did. He saved, protected, and nurtured me like no one did.

But why?

Why would someone do that for someone?

He could have left me as he left my other family members. He could have got me killed. He could have done anything. If he did not love or have anything for me, why the hell did he marry me at all?

It did not make any sense.

No guilt is ever too strong that the redemption would alter your whole life.

He could have felt guilty for being the Sultan of Hamid Sultanate, but why marry an illegitimate daughter of an Amir of a fallen royal family? It was of no use. I had no treasure, no blood, nothing.

And that only made me think of something big I did not know yet.

What if he was actually the culprit?

What if he was keeping me here to make my father weak?

What if he was the one who had been the reason for my father's separation from me?

Nothing made sense, and I could not help but palm my face, inhaling deeply.

"What happened?" Shefali asked, and I shook my head.

I had to meet my father again. I had to know what Jaan-e-J... Sultan Rehman was doing to him. I had to know about his plans.

But how could I?

Suddenly, I remembered that he talked about me visiting the Darmiyan Sultanate. And, my heart, mind, and soul could that it was not to bond me with Choti Ammijaan or Ghazal but something else.

What was it?

"Rehana," suddenly, his voice brought me out of my chain of thoughts, and I immediately lifted my gaze to the door. He stood there.

"What happened?" he asked, stepping down the stairs. Shefali moved back from me.

I shook my head.

Nothing happened. I was still alive.

"Nothing," I replied, lowering my gaze down to my feet.

Hiding my dried tears, I tried to stand up. A wave of pain ran through my nerves, but it calmed down a bit as I took a few steps ahead.

"Are you okay?" he asked, placing his hand on my shoulder.

"Were you crying?" he asked, and I shook my head.

"No, why would I cry?" I asked in response and lifted my gaze to stare deeply into his eyes.

His subtle green resembled the venomous green snake. Was he really a good person?

Or, I had been a fool all this time.

I just fell in love with a person who married me and kept me away from him. I could not help but feel that whatever he did was just to fuel his passion. But, I could not tell what passion.

Was it to kill my father?

Was it to make me bait so that my father would reach me, and then he would kill him?

Was it just to redeem his guilt?

"Oh, by the way, the guests are leaving. We should see them off," he suggested, and I plastered a smile on my face, nodding.

"Of course. I am the Mallika of this Sultanate. I have to," I said, and the way his brows knit suspiciously, I could not help but feel that he just wanted to keep me as a puppet here.

And, all this while, he was just distracting me with his good image.

Suddenly, I went back to the killing scene.

He did not have to kill those dacoits.

So, he killed them so that he would never be able to take me to my father. And why did he talk about them afterward?

What was he doing?

Did he know that my father met me?

I gulped with fear.

I had to know. I had to find out.

"What happened?" he asked, and I immediately shook my head.

"Nothing. Let's go," I said and placed the dupatta on my head before stepping ahead of him.

My fingers were shaking. And suddenly, I felt his hand clutching against my wrist and pulling me closer to him.

"Kya hua, Jaan?"

"What happened, Jaan?" he asked in a low and deep voice.

And I immediately burst into laughter.

Seeing me, his brows knit in a line, and I shook my head.

"What? What did you call me?" I laughed even more.

His hold on my hand loosened, and I gently pushed him away.

"Chaliye, sab intzaar kar rahe honge,"

"Let's go, everyone must be waiting for us,"

I said and walked out of the chamber. He followed me silently as I walked to the main door of the Sultanate.

There, my sight fell on the decorated palanquins and carriages. The horses were ready to depart, and so was the convoy.

Ammijaan was greeting everyone.

They were not my people. And, suddenly, I felt no connection with them. They did not even know me. They did not even know why I was there.

A girl leaves her home and steps into her husband's home, longing for love, affection, and respect from him and then his family.

But what would I do with his family's love when his' was missing?

Also, I did not even know his intentions with me.

He did not want to bed. He did not want to have a baby because, for that, he would have come closer to me.

So, I was not here to be his wife.

"I really hope to meet you soon, Bhabhijaan," Ruhani's voice caught my attention, and I smiled weakly. I really loved her.

I really hoped that I could say the name. But, I did not know her brother's intentions for me.

"Me, too," though, I replied and hugged her tightly. My heart felt heavy, and she hugged me tight as well.

"We will celebrate Rahil's birthday. I really want you to come," she said, pulling back, and I nodded, smiling.

"Alright, Bhabhijaan. Now, your Jaan-e-Jahan's attention is all yours," Haider's voice made my gaze move to him. He gestured a Salam to me, and I gestured back silently.

Everyone met me one by one. Nandani, Aishwarya, Trisha, Suman, Choti Ammijaan, Ruhani, and my heart felt heavy.

I enjoyed it so much with them. They came so close to me that my family had never been.

My heart felt heavy as the reality of their departure began to hit me like the strength of the winds changing from windy to stormy.

And, amid this, he stood like a thick tree enjoying everything.

"Aapi, take care of yourself," Ghazal said, stepping closer to me.

I did not know why, but I felt a different connection with her. I immediately collected her in a tight hug. A few tears rolled down my cheeks as I pulled back and saw her smiling weakly at me.

"You too, dearest," I said and walked to her palanquin.

"Please come and visit me soon," she said, and I nodded.

As she sat in the palanquin, I walked to Ruhani's.

She was emotional, too.

"You have become my reason to visit Hamid Sultanate, Bhabhijaan," she said, and I immediately hugged her tightly.

I felt emotional all of a sudden.

"Please, come soon," I said, and she chuckled.

"Sure," I said.

She also sat in the palanquin.

The men climbed their horses, but suddenly, Sultan Rafiq caught my attention.

"Rehana Bete," he addressed me, and I blinked nervously, looking at him.

Nothing came out of my mouth.

"In life, we often seek validation for ourselves. And, in the process, we end up choosing the wrong people. So, whenever you think you need someone who really cares about you, come to me. You are one of my daughters," he said, and I looked down.

I did not need his help. He was the worst person.

But, considering what his son and I negotiated, I just nodded.

"Alright, Rehana," Choti Ammijaan's words caught my attention.

"Come here, my child," she said, opening her arms to hug me. A smile appeared on my face as she stepped closer to hug me.

"God bless you and take care of yourself. I really hope you get the love of my share as well," she said, and I did not know why I broke into cries all of a sudden.

"Aw, what happened?" she asked, caressing my head and began rubbing my back.

"What happened? Beta. Did he say something to you?" she asked, and I cried even more.

"Rehman," she called him out in anger, and I pulled back, shaking my head.

"I will really miss you, Choti Ammi," I said, and she also got emotional. A pair of tears escaped her eyes, and she smiled.

"If Rehman ever troubles you, just write to me, and I will take this beautiful gem with me until he begs on his knees," she said, and everyone laughed.

I looked at him, lowering his gaze down silently with a weak smile.

"Take care, Choti Ammijaan," he said, stepping closer, and suddenly, he bent down to touch her feet. My brows knit in confusion.

What was he doing?

"God Bless you, Rehman. Your attention is now completely needed on her, not some stupid things," she said, and he smiled before they hugged loosely.

"Ji, Choti Ammijaan. I will take care of it," he said, and I looked away.

He would never take care of it.

Why would he?

There was not anything he felt about me.

They all sat in their palanquins, and the men climbed the horses. Ammijaan stood beside me, shedding tears as the lifters picked the palanquins up and started moving.

I looked at them, walking away.

They blessed my initial weeks with so much love and happiness that I could not tell how much I was going to miss them.

Especially after learning that Jaan-e-Jahan's Jaan was not me.

Once they were not even watchable, I turned around to go back to his chamber.

Ammijaan stopped me.

"Rehana,"

I looked at her.

"Ji, Ammijaan," I asked, and she stepped closer to me.

"Is everything alright? Beta. You look upset," she said, and I shook my head.

"Yes, Ammijaan, everything is okay. I am just tired," I said, excusing myself to the chamber.

And as I walked through the galleries alone, a thought struck my mind.

I had to know what he was planning. I had to know why he wanted to send me to the Darmiyan Sultanate all of a sudden.

And, there seemed only one way to find out.

I immediately marched to the chamber and closed the door behind me. It was empty.

Raking my eyes, I tried to find out where he used to keep his documents and letters. I had to find out the pattern. I had to find out his handwriting.

There was the bed, the couches, the trunks, and a mirror in the corner. There was nothing. Where did he use to keep them?

Gulping nervously, I walked to the doors. One would open to the bathing room.

There must be a library or study room somewhere.

And, in order to keep it accessible only to the Sultan, it must be somewhere close.

But where?

I could not see any door. I could not find any books around. From where did he get the book?

And suddenly, the door to the chamber opened, and I stumbled back, finding him gazing directly at me. I was standing in the middle of the chamber.

The way he closed the door behind me, I felt my heart tighten.

For the first time, his presence did not please me but rather scared me.

"What happened?" he asked, staring at my face.

"Nothing," I replied.

With his knitted brows, he stepped down the stairs, and with each step closer to me, my heartbeats intensified.

"Are you sure?" he asked, stepping a little closer.

And, by taking a few steps back, my legs stumbled against the couch before the bed.

"Yes," I replied confidently and looked away.

This was not right.

And, before I could walk past him, he placed his arm right across my waist and pulled me closer to him.

"Hamari baat to suniye na,"

"At least listen to me," he said in a low and pleading voice. Gulping silently, I mentally shook my head so as not to give in to his words.

And, no more asking for his justifications and explanations and answers.

Because he would end up lying more.

But, the warmth of his hand, the way he gently pulled me closer and pushed the loose strand of my hair away from my face, I could not stop looking into his eyes.

"Kya hua hai? Kuch chupa rahi hai aap humse? Bata dein hume,"

"What happened? Are you hiding something from me? Tell me," he said, and I could not believe that he was the one who was hiding everything and had the audacity to ask me.

And, at this point, I just wanted to go away.

But first, I had to protect my father.

"I want to read some books," and for that, I had to know about all his secrets. And, when it came to secrets, papers carried most of them—the true, real, and deeply buried ones.

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