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Trisha POV

"Who is he?" he asked, and I gulped, staring at the two men standing in my courtyard.

Before I could say anything, Shantanu Kumar walked towards him, bent a little, and introduced himself.

"Yuvraj, my greetings," he said, and Yuvraj Abhinandan looked at me momentarily.

"And who might you be?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion, and Shantanu's smile grew wider.

"Everyone knows you. I am Shantanu Kumar. A soldier in Mahabaleshgarh," he said, and Yuvraj smiled.

"Oh, I see. So you came here to greet me," he asked. Shantanu looked at me momentarily blankly and then nodded.

"Ye... yes, your father is missing you terribly," he said, and Yuvraj lowered his gaze.

"Is he alright?" he asked in a low voice. Shantanu stayed silent for a moment and then nodded.

"From outside, yes, but it's human tendency to hide their pain behind their widest smiles," Shantanu exclaimed, and he nodded.

"He deserves that," Yuvraj stated, and I temporarily lowered my gaze.

"Ohhh, Yuvraj is here." My father's voice suddenly caught my attention, and I saw him walking in.

"Guruji, happy Holi," Yuvraj walked forward to him and bent down to touch his feet.

And, the moment Shantanu walked forward and touched his feet, too, Yuvraj's brows thinned in a line.

"Yuvraj, meet him, Shantanu Kumar, Trisha's fiance," and here it was. My father declared, and I stood frozen, holding the ends of my dupatta in my fists.

Yuvraj remained silent, absolutely shocked, for the next few moments and then suddenly laughed. "Hahhahaaaa, ohh, haha," he said suddenly, turning to me and looking at me with intense eyes.

I immediately looked away. Well, I was about to tell him.

"Trisha, prepare something to eat," my father suggested, and I nodded before walking inside the hut.

I chopped the vegetables and kneaded the dough while the men talked outside. After that, I silently cooked and heard them laughing, talking, and enjoying themselves. Yuvraj was not speaking much, and I did not dare to see him in the eyes.

My strength had drained. For some strange reason, I felt I had done something wrong but could not remember it.

"Bhojan taiyaar hai, Pitaji, kaha laga de?"

"The food's ready, Pitaji. Where to serve?" I asked in a slow yet loud enough voice, and Yuvraj suddenly stood up from the wooden bed and walked towards me.

"Hum to garam garam poori khaenge, idhar beth kar hi,"

"I will have hot Pooris sitting here," he declared, and my heartbeats raced when she sat a little away from me. My fingers trembled a little, and I looked into his eyes. They were dark and enraged, and I immediately looked at my father and Shantanu.

"You should come here too," I offered with a smile and noticed Yuvraj gritting his teeth.

He shifted closer, blocking any space for Shantanu to sit near me. He even placed his plate so that his hand could never reach me.

This was crazy.

"Hum pakda denge,"

"I will pass," he said, smiling at them, and they nodded. I could sense that Shantanu also wanted to sit near me, and Pitaji laughed.

"Trisha and Yuvraj are closer. They have known each other since Yuvraj was sixteen," he said, and I passed the plate to Yuvraj to hand them over. He looked at me as if he wanted to yell at me.

I looked away. I did not know why he was angry. He had asked me to get married, too, and I was getting married.

I placed the bowls of mixed vegetables and Gatte curry in the middle so that they could self-serve.

"Oh, I see. I can see. They look close," Shantanu said with a smile, looking at me. He seemed mature and understanding, and I could not stop smiling at him.

I served Yuvraj first—the first three pooris. He seemed to ignore my father and Shantanu's conversation and began to eat.

"Yes, like elder sist-,"

"Urrghhhhh, ughhhhh, ughhhhhhhh," Yuvraj started coughing and my eyes widened with shock.

"Yuvraj, what happened? Are you okay?" My father immediately started to rub his back, and Shantanu ran to bring the water.

"Here," he said, putting the glass forward, and he drank.

"Um, I think it was too hot," he said, and I breathed relief.

"Are you okay now?" my father asked, and he nodded.

"You should continue," Yuvraj said, and I continued to roll the Pooris again.

"So, when is the wedding?" Yuvraj asked, looking at me momentarily, and my father smiled.

"We are thinking about next month," he declared and nodded.

"It's nice," he said, and I could sense that whatever just happened had made Shantanu feel awkward, too.

The rest of lunch went well, as Yuvraj remained silent while my father and Shantanu talked about the family, relatives, and other things.

"I should leave now. I only came to wish the festival," Shantanu said, catching our attention. I smiled. I had not even had time to talk to him today.

"I should walk with you," my father said. He waited for Yuvraj to say the same, but he never did. When they left, he looked at me with anger.

"Seriously?" he asked, and I knit my brows with confusion. Or, at least, I tried to show that I was confused with words.

My stomach growled, and I ignored him and set up my plate.

Taking it, I went inside my home, and he followed me, which was the last thing I had expected.

"You should not be here," I immediately said, and he inhaled deeply before sitting across me and crossing his legs.

I prayed for a moment before beginning, and he said.

"Trisha, why?" he asked, and I took the first bite.

"Why not?" I asked in response, and he clenched his jaw.

"Why him?" he asked further.

"Why not him?" I counter-questioned.

He cleared his throat. "Your father had taught so many Princes and kings why a commoner, when you could be a wife to a Prince, could become a Queen," he said, and I immediately burst into laughter.

"Hahahhaha,"

I never dared to laugh before any men, but now, I could not control myself.

His face fell, staring at me, and I wiped my laughing tears and looked at me.

"Only the Princesses are meant to sit beside the Princes and Kings. I am not a Princess. Yes, my father surely knows many Princes, but he also knows the difference between the two classes," I told him, taking another bite, and he shook his head.

"What is the difference? There is no difference. He... he cannot give you a better life. He is a soldier, and what could he be earning? And, you have spent all your life working hard; why walk into a family where you will have to work even harder," he said, and I gulped, lowering my gaze and trying to explain to him.

"This is who I am. At least we could understand each other. Only a hard worker knows what hard work means. A Prince or a King would never understand me. I do not know who are my real parents, whether I am a Brahmin, a Kshatriya, or belong to any other clan. I do not know my religion; I do not know my blood. The family is ready to accept me based on my upbringing and what my father gave me. What else could I ask for?"

He inhaled deeply and looked away for a moment. "But, what about him having no feelings for you?" he asked, and I lowered my gaze, gulping.

"I do not know since you began thinking about feelings," I asked, and he looked at me.

"Everyone has feelings and love, and how can you have his babies without love," his words made me slightly uncomfortable, and I lowered my gaze.

"Society is different from all the people," I chuckled. "The people who choose love are culprits, and those who do not are culprits, too," I stated, and he knit his brows.

"What do you mean? Well, everyone preaches about love as if their life depends on it. How are you any different?" he asked, and I smiled.

"Your sister also chose to marry for love. And here you are, trying to kill her husband," I stated, and his eyes looked into me intensely.

"He deserves to be killed. He betrayed me, my sister, my family, and everyone," he said, and I smiled and nodded.

"I see, but still, whatever people talk about them. They speak mostly of love. Your sister chose to marry him, even after knowing what he did to her. She is a Princess, powerful, sensible, and surely has people who could slit Rudra Bhaisa's throat on her one command. But she did not; maybe there is more to know about them. It could be love. And, here you are opposing their love and then preaching to me about a love match," I tried to say, and he closed his eyes for a moment.

"So, you are happy making babies with an unknown man?" he asked, and I felt timid with his words. I could feel the curtain of shame tearing between us.

"This is the order of things. A woman marries an unknown man, and they have babies together, grow them together and get older," I reminded him, and he lifted his gaze.

"What if he hurts you? Who will you have to slit his throat? Surely, I will not be there because I do not like him for you," he said, and I bit my tongue.

"That's okay, I understand. Do not worry; I will not burden you with my worries," I said, and he exhaled deeply.

While talking to him, I lost much of my appetite and stood up to wash the utensils.

And, before I could walk past him, he held my hand.

HE HELD MY HAND!

The bangles on my wrist tingled, and I felt the rough texture of his palm clutching against my fist. My knees weakened, and the moment he gently pulled me back, I turned to look at him.

"What about me?" he asked, and I knit my brows with confusion, trying to pull my hand from his hold.

"What about you?" I asked, and he stood up slowly.

"We are friends, right? How would we meet after you get married?" he asked, and I lowered my gaze for a moment.

For a moment, I felt there was something more to his words—something he was not able to say or something I expected him to tell.

"We can exchange letters," I tried to say, and suddenly, he pulled me closer by intertwining our hands and locking them straight.

Our chests remained only a few inches apart from crashing into each other. My heartbeats raced with such a sudden pull.

"What are you doing?" my voice came out shaky and suddenly.

"Trisha," my father called to me from outside. My face became pale with fear, and I tried to pull my hand back.

"It's a no. I do not like him. You cannot marry him," he declared, and I tried to pull my hand.

"I have already said 'Yes'," and shook my head. His grip on my hand tightened, and he warned me. "Deny it, Trisha," he muttered.

"Trisha!" my father called again, this time with a louder voice. He was nearing the entrance.

"Nobody is asking for your opinion," I had no option but to say it.

He stared intensely into my eyes. And I immediately pulled my hand from his.

"Trisha," my father called, stepping inside, and I immediately planted a smile.

"Pitaji, Yuvraj Abhinandan just told me how happy he is knowing I am getting married. He spoke highly of Shantanu," I exclaimed, and he smiled and nodded.

"Ye... yes, he is a great man," he added, and my father stepped closer with a wide smile.

"I am glad to hear that," he said, and Yuvraj stepped back.

"Um, I just remembered that I needed to go somewhere today," he said, and my father walked out with him.

My knees felt weak. It was so close. I did not know what my father would have thought seeing us like this.

And why was he angry? Shantanu seemed to be a good man, but he did not say anything to support his disapproval.

I walked after them and heard my father saying.

"What is it? You can stay here for a night. It is not good to travel during the festival," he suggested, and Yuvraj denied it.

"It's kind of urgent,"

If I was not suffering enough, a soldier just walked in, and my father stopped him.

"Pranam Guruji, this letter is for Trisha Bai-sa from the King," I heard his low voice. Before I could walk down the stairs to reach him, Yuvraj took the letter from his hand.

My heart came out of my mouth when I saw him reading it.

I hoped the King had not mentioned anything about my promise to him.

But, it seemed like the festival was cursed for me.

He turned to look at me. His eyes were slightly red, and he lifted the letter.

"You know about this?" he asked, and I walked down the stairs.

"How can I? I have not read it yet," I said, taking the letter from his hand.

Trisha,

It's been many days since we met. I hope you are trying harder to convince my son to return to the Kingdom. I have not heard from you yet. Kindly update me. And, hopefully, his return is the only thing I want to hear.

The King,

Mahabaleshgarh

(The letter is meant only for the addressed person's eyes)

I rolled the letter and looked at him, and my father looked back at me.

"It could be some other Trisha," I tried to say as I could see his blood boiling. He sighed and walked away from there. "Never mind,"

I stood frozen, seeing him walk, climb his horse and then ride away.

I messed up. I knew that.

"I told you not to get involved in the matters of Kingdoms," my father said and walked away.

I wanted to run after him, trying to explain that I did not like it. His father called me, and I did not do anything.

But I felt stuck.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, clear the fog in my mind and sew the hollow in the chest. But they continued to grow bigger.

I could not focus on anything but the last word he said to me. 'Never mind'. As if he was somewhere expecting this from me.

I knew he trusted me when everyone dear to him peeled and chopped his trust. I wanted to talk to him, but how he held my hand three days ago made me feel things would worsen if I stood near him for a while.

There was an easy thing to do: ignore it and him, get married next month, and live the life ahead. He would not meet me again, and I would not find him again. One day, he would not even remember that a girl called Trisha existed.

He had more people to worry about. I was not even in the queue. Although there were a few miles between us, our reality was not determinable in miles or any parameter. There were no stairs that could take me to him.

I tried to convince myself to move my brain from him to everything else. My father was happy and doing shopping for me. He had already ordered the caterers, bought the ration, and even ordered sweets.

For him, this was the most exciting and happy thing.

And I could not decide if I should be happy or not.

 Before, I finally decided not to sit idly about it and asked my father.

"Pitaji, I think I should go and talk to Yuvraj. He is angry with me," I said in my soft voice. He lifted his gaze from some paper and inhaled a deep breath.

"It's your wedding next month. You should focus on that, Trisha. I do not think he will even listen to you," he exclaimed, and I tried to say.

"But, Pitaji, I should at least talk to him," my voice was low and pleading.

"Trisha, his family should be the one convincing him, not you," he said, and it felt like the last words he wanted to tell me in this regard.

I did not push it any further.

After some time, he walked out for work, and I did not know what came to my mind; I could not stop and walked out to meet him.

When I reached there, it was afternoon, and I learned that Yuvraj was with a troop of soldiers in the nearby forest.

For a moment, I thought of returning. But, the thought of my father hating me and never letting me come back once I reached there crossed my mind.

It was the only time I could meet him.

I asked a soldier to guide me to him, and he agreed, knowing I was a frequent visitor.

"He is here," the soldier told me, and I nodded, telling him.

"You can return from here," he nodded and silently walked away.

I noticed the place was too discreet. It was in the middle of the forest, near an old mount, and it seemed like a dungeon.

My sight fell on the three tents and a group of soldiers surrounding the place with naked swords. In the middle was the Yuvraj, and as I stepped closer, I saw him doing push-ups.

He was half naked. The sweat beads were falling off his hair, chest and back as if he was wet in the rain.

"Nine hundred ninety-eight," a soldier counted, and I gulped with fear.

What was happening in here?

"Nine hundred ninety-nine,"

I walked closer, and he lifted his gaze to look at me momentarily before he finished the thousandth.

"I need to talk to you," I said, and he stood up.

"I am busy," he declared, and I walked after him into the tent. He drank two glasses of water, half of which flowed down his chest.

"Please, just for a while," I tried to say, walking past him to at least see him in the face, but my ankle twisted over a stone that was covered with the thin carpets, and I fell to my knees, earning another deep wound on my knees.

"Trisha!"

And he immediately held my arm.

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