Sree pov
I turned toward the head maid and said with great politeness,"jiji (sister), may I suggest something? When we adorn princesses, we follow a specific tradition. While the bride’s primary adornment begins, the room must be cleared of everyone except the one performing the ritual."
The head maid asked in surprise, "And why is that?"
I made my voice grave. "Because at this moment, the bride is most vulnerable to the 'evil eye.' Moreover, Prince Manveer is no ordinary man; he is an Emperor. It is most auspicious if he is the first to behold his bride’s completed radiance. If so many eyes remain here, the purity of the ritual will be compromised. Would you want anything inauspicious to happen during such a holy hour?"
The mention of the 'Emperor' and the fear of a 'bad omen' worked. The head maid hesitated for a moment, then ordered the others, "She is right. We cannot take any risks. Everyone, out! Only Kashi will stay. The rest of you, go and prepare the prayer platters."
One by one, the maids emptied the room. The heavy door groaned shut, and a profound silence filled the space. Now, there were only two people: me and that Diya.
I looked into the mirror. Diya was still blushing. Her eyes were closed; perhaps she was dreaming the same dreams that were once mine.
I slowly pulled a small vial from the pouch tied to my waist. It contained an ancient herb whose scent could plunge anyone into a deep slumber in an instant.
I applied it to a cloth and moved it deftly near Diya’s face.
"Princess, breathe in this fragrance... let me apply this to you," I whispered.
As soon as Diya took a deep breath, her head began to swim. Her eyelids grew heavy, and without a single cry, she collapsed into my arms. I caught her and laid her on the floor. Time was of the essence.
I swiftly stripped her of the heavy bridal attire and jewels. Quickly, I dressed myself in the wedding ensemble. I hid my face behind the heavy veil.
Then, my gaze fell upon a large wooden chest meant for the precious gifts being sent to Ashoknagar. I laid Diya inside it. She could breathe, and the chest was wide and long enough for her to lie comfortably.
I looked at Diya’s innocent face, so peaceful even in its forced slumber. Her bridal attire was now upon my body, and her destiny was in my grasp. But as I laid her inside that dark chest, my heart shuddered for a fleeting moment. I was fighting an evil, but was I becoming a sinner myself in the process?
I brushed the stray hair from her forehead and leaned toward her ear. My voice was heavy.
"Diya..." I whispered, "I know that what I am doing is wrong. Your eyes have dreamt the same dreams I once did. You are blameless, yet you must burn in this fire of mine. For that, forgive me."
I lowered the lid of the chest slightly, my grip loosening.
"But I have no other choice," I continued, my voice hardening with resolve. "The man you worship as a god is, in truth, a monster. But I promise you, Princess, I will not let your life be ruined. Give me some time; I will make everything right."
I took a deep breath and wiped away my tears. The time for weeping had passed. I shut the chest and snapped the lock.
Moments later, there was a knock. The head maid’s voice called out, "Kashi? Is the adornment complete? We are running late."
I softened my voice to mimic Diya’s and spoke from behind the veil, "Kashi has already left... she has finished preparing me. Have the men carry the items out; I need a moment of solitude."
The maids entered and carried away the chest. They had no idea what 'gift' they were transporting.
"Good heavens! Why is this chest so heavy?" one maid gasped. "It seems the Princess has decided to take all of Bundelkhand with her to Ashoknagar."
The other laughed, "And why not? She is the Emperor’s bride; the splendor must show. Hurry now, the Chief Commander has ordered that these gifts be sent ahead of the main procession."
I watched them carry the chest out from behind my veil.
"Princess? The auspicious hour has arrived," the head maid called from the door. Her voice was full of respect.
I slowly lifted my head. The heavy nose ring and the tika on my forehead concealed my face even further.
I stepped out of the room. The rhythmic chime of my anklets echoed, sounding like the arrival of a Princess to the palace maids.
As I approached the wedding canopy, I saw Manveer standing there. He was draped in royal attire, his face glowing with that same old radiance—the same smile that had destroyed me.
As I reached him, a gust of wind blew. The fringe of my veil fluttered slightly. Manveer’s eyes locked onto me. I felt a moment of bewilderment in his eyes, as if my scent felt hauntingly familiar to him.
But as he saw me approaching the mandap, his steps faltered. Behind my veil, I felt his eyes measuring my every move.
I reached the mandap and waited for him to sit. For a moment, he froze, as if his soul had sensed a looming danger. The priest gestured to him; only then did he take a deep breath and slowly sit beside me.
"Is everything alright, maharaj?" the priest asked softly.
Manveer didn't answer. His entire focus was on the faint scent of 'Saffron and Sandalwood' rising from me.
"Begin," Manveer finally said, but his voice lacked its usual command; there was a strange tremor in it.
The priest performed the Gathbandhan. As the knot was tied between our garments, it felt as though two enemies were being bound by the same shackle.
"Princess..." he whispered very softly, "There is a strange chill in your presence... as if something old and precious is near me."
I bowed my head even lower. "Emperor, marriage is a bond... and some bonds are meant to settle the accounts of lifetimes," I said in a masked voice.
The priest called upon the King of Bundelkhand, "Maharaj, it is time for the Kanyadan. Take the Princess's hand."
The priest began to chant the mantras, and the King took my hand in his. The warmth of his palms was just like my father’s. For a fleeting second, I forgot I was there as part of a conspiracy. It felt as if I were back in Jwalapur, and my father was entrusting my hand to Manveer... the same trust, the same hope.
A sharp pain rose in my chest, and behind the veil, my eyes overflowed. If only my father were alive today. A soft sob escaped my lips. My tears rolled past my nose ring and splashed onto my hands.
The King’s heart melted. He believed his daughter was weeping at the thought of leaving her father’s home. Regardless of royal protocol, he pulled me into a warm embrace.
"Enough, my child... do not cry," the King’s voice was choked with emotion. He rested his hand on my head, his own eyes brimming with tears. "I know daughters are meant for another’s home, but you will always be the Princess of Bundelkhand. Manveer will cherish you just as I have."
The King then placed my hand into Manveer’s palm. Manveer took my hand; my veil had shifted slightly from the King's embrace, and his palm had become wet with my tears.
I pulled away from the King’s shoulder and composed myself.
The time for the Pheras arrived. We stood and began to circle the holy fire. With every circle, I wished for Manveer’s punishment and the reclamation of my kingdom, vowing to myself that this was now the sole purpose of my life.
As the seventh circle was completed, he lifted my veil slightly to apply the vermilion without looking at me. He quickly suppressed his suspicion and filled my parting.
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