"You must have complete trust in me, how can I let any harm come to you?" Randhir assured her, to build up her morale. "I do trust you, but the feeling is so scary." She admitted. "Just look into my eyes and hold on to me." He egged her on. "If I look into your eyes I begin to lose control." She was telling him the truth. His bare torso above the surface made him look like a demi-god. He smirked as a sudden  twinkle appeared in his eyes. "If you want more of me you have to do as I say, nothing less will do." He would not budge till she complied. As days passed Sanyukta overcame her fear of water, which was hardly surprising as her tutor refused to share any intimacy with her until they were both submerged. All day she would look forward to being in the water with him, to feel him caress and thrill her like never before. Hungry for his touch, she let him lead her in the river even when it filled her with panic if there was the slightest current. He would cajole her by teasing her lips with feathery pecks, tempting her with more until she followed instructions. The moment they dived underneath he would seal her lips with his own, encouraging her to stay below the surface for as long as she could. 

 He coaxed her gently but firmly, warning her that time was running out and she needed to practice holding her breath underwater for as long as she could. He made sure she took adequate rest, and kept herself nourished and hydrated. He taught her how to warm up, to do simple exercises to enhance her ability to stay without drawing breath, and to stretch her limbs to prevent muscle cramps that could immobilise a swimmer. By the third day of being tutored by Randhir she was able to swim. When she asked him why he had made her learn it he would not reveal what lay ahead, he only told her the lesser she knew the better it was for her safety. Finally his effort paid off and she became a confident swimmer, mainly because she enjoyed the reward of underwater romance with him which left her craving for more. She trained hard because he expected her to, she had faith in his judgement and no reason to doubt his intentions. 

Even when he warned her to appear as normal around her family members, Sanyukta found her anxiety rising. She trusted him, knowing fully well that he would never let her down. She knew he had no plans to elope, to let it be known that he had anything to do with her getaway. Nor was there any chance of him convincing her father to let them marry. She wondered what he had decided, but he refused to divulge any information. To keep herself occupied she took to needlework when free. Her needle skills, which she began learning from the time she turned six, were inherited from her mother, who was brought up in Saurashtra. Her grandfather traded in textiles from Saurashtra and Kutch and her mother learnt embroidery from the local women employed to work for them. Sanyukta's mother kept herself confined to her homestead because tradition required her to, although her daughter was allowed to play with the girls in the neighbourhood. 

After winding up their housework Sanyukta and her mother spent their afternoons in needlework and stitching colourful Saurashtra style kanchalis or blouses and ghagras. They did a variety of work- Heer Bharat or silk foss darning, herringbone stitch, aari or chain stitch, thorn stitch, applique, sequins and mirror work- on clothes and on bed linen. As soon as Sanyukta reached puberty her mother began engaging her in  making articles for her trousseau, including mats, bedspreads, wall hangings, beadwork torans and other decorative articles. She worked without her husband's knowledge because he looked down upon the art, associating it with down and out women, because the well-to-do people in his community commissioned artisans to craft these for them. He never realised that irrespective of his prejudice his wife toiled on defiantly to preserve and pass on her heritage to her only daughter who was equally eager to learn.

Sanyukta's personal favourite was a traditional wall hanging called the Ganesh Thaap. It was the first piece created for her trousseau. It had a base fabric of yellow, signifying the auspicious turmeric, which is used to anoint a bride. The pattern was triangular on top and a square at its base, resembling a house. The center of the panel had an embroidered Lord Ganesha and his two wives, Riddhi and Siddhi. The rest of the panel featured birds and animals, and was embellished with abala or mirror work. She knew there was a high possibility that she would have to leave most of her belongings behind if she had to elope, but she was determined to carry away the Ganesh Thaap and a particular beaded bag, these were the only pieces completely made by her mother. On Randhir's advice she had discretely handed him a small bundle containing these and other essentials like new clothes her mother had helped make and some jewellery, which her father would never notice if it went missing. It filled her heart with the joy of anticipation, soon her lover would literally sweep her off her feet.

In another place Benazir or Meera was formally adopted by the family she was staying with, as instructed by Parth. To give her a new identity she was renamed Anokhi after one of the sisters of the deceased Suraj Singh. Suraj Singh was relatively unknown to the Shekhawat family, hailing from a modest hamlet in rural Rajputana. If anyone wanted to verify the backstory everything would seem to be in order. His parents had been adequately compensated and arrangements were made to marry off his two sisters immediately and send them off to Bundelkhand without anyone's knowledge. The girls were given new names by their husbands to avoid any confusion. These precautions were necessary to prevent blowing off Benazir's cover. 

Benazir's health was constantly being monitored by Parth. The physician pronounced her healthy and disease-free, based on physical observation and a lack of symptoms over days. This was hardly a co-incidence, she informed Parth. Her clientele had been discrete and selective, and hakims were routinely consulted to keep the best tawaifs bereft of venereal disease that could otherwise adversely affect business in the kotha. There were also other precautions used, with clients being encouraged to use specially designed lambskin prophylactics which avoided exchange of genital fluids, a method popular in European brothels for effective prevention of pregnancy and disease. Benazir, known as Anokhi, began receiving meticulous coaching in the ways of Rajput families to facilitate her integration. She was a quick learner, having had varied experiences in the past few years of her life. 

Dispatch riders brought news to Parth that his wife Vidushi had delivered a baby daughter in her natal home a few days ago. While the mother had been reported to be disappointed Parth was happy he had been blessed with a healthy child and he sent a message to Randhir, informing him about the new addition to the family. He distributed sweets and gave money for charity seeking blessings for the baby. As custom dictated the mother would remain with her parents until she recovered from childbirth and the infant was fit to travel. Parth sent word to Vidushi that he would be there personally to escort her and the baby home when the time came. Having done so he turned his attention to another cause. He proposed marriage to Anokhi, who promptly turned him down. He had been expecting this.

"A noble Rajput takes a wife fit for his status, a tawaif can hardly be a suitable candidate. If you need another wife there must be scores of virgin Rajput girls to choose from, you cannot defy family tradition by committing such folly!" She told him firmly. "You have a new life and a new identity. You are a Rajput now, so what is the problem?" He persisted. "You know my history, not even the waters of Gangotri can sanctify this polluted body. How can an assumed name and identity wipe the slate clean?" He found it hard to accept her argument. He suddenly gripped her arms, held her close to him and spoke to her. "Look me in the eye and tell me what you see." She looked in his eyes defiantly and regretted it the next moment. No, she could not succumb, if was not her fate to deserve happiness. He raised her palm and placed it on his heart. 

"Swear by me and tell me you don't love me, if you speak the truth I will not ask you again." He said. She simply closed her eyes. "Both of us know that our hearts have united but we chose to keep our distance." He spoke for both of them. "You love your wife, she has just brought joy to the family. How will she take the news? You want to marry me because you feel duty-bound, due to circumstances. I can survive alone, you need not worry about me." She tried to make him see reason. "Truth be told, yes, I fell for Vidushi's charm. She is an exquisite woman, heady like opium. But love? I realised I was only infatuated with her after I met you. If I had loved her truly I would not feel this way about you. We can work this out, please say yes." He debated with her all day till she consented.

 That evening women carrying bowls of mehendi came by to decorate her hands and feet. The next morning she was massaged with haldi and chandan in a ritual called pithi dastoor, before being bathed and adorned in a bright red bridal Rajput poshak and exquisite jewellery such as the aad necklace, nath, jhoomkas, rakhdi for her forehead, bazuband for arms, paunchi bracelets with gold and ivory bangles for her wrists. A low key quick Rajput wedding was performed with only the clan members in attendance. After the mala, saat pheras and the sindoor daan ceremony they were pronounced man and wife. As Parth entered the decorated bedchamber his new bride kept her face concealed under her ghoonghat with mixed feelings inside her head. "It was love, not lust that prompted this sacrament. I know you are not ready to be my wife and I respect the sentiment. Go to sleep Anokhi baisa, you must be tired." As he blew out the lamp and lay down beside her she knew she had made the right decision. Her miserable life was about to change for the better, she thought.