When as a political alliance, Princess Khushi had to get married to 65-year old Maharaja Kishore, his existing wife, Maharani Anjali felt threatened.
Sensing the new Queen as a trouble, Anjali asked her brother, Prince Arnav, to make Khushi's life...
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The new day broke out brightly with new colours and hopes, shadowing the unpleasant and awful layers of past few days.
The tussle between love and death didn't last long that day, and the Messengers of Death had to reiterate, to let the two lovers unite forever.
Arnav had won, in getting back his Khushi, now them being in Raizadabad, with Khushi's condition somewhat stable, with proper care and medication. This new morning had knocked in, promising the continuation of life for someone!
With the earth revolving around its elliptical path, the clock striking, and the minutes tickling by, Arnav had been kept sitting there on a stool besides her, the whole night!
Uncomfortably comfortable, interlacing his fingers with hers, leaning on her bed, partially resting on the mattress, his right was arm placed on the bed, and his head resting upon his arm, his eyes closed out of extreme exhaustion, emotional and physical.
His body wanted to rest, but the sleep was far off his being. He had closed his eyes, but his every cell was alarmed to receive any kind of response from her.
Last night, she was being administered some sleeping herbs, to ease her body out of pain. And Arnav had discarded every maid, every servant out of here, taking the responsibility of her care upon him, to guard her against any odd.
She was sedated, and in that state, she was expected to gain and lose her sense more often. He had felt her fingers pressed against his, once in the middle of night, but other than that, she hadn't given out any other stimuli.
What felt like an hour since the day had broken, Arnav again felt feeble, slow movement of her fingers against his, which were entwined with her. Snapping his eyes open, he straightened himself on the stool, filling a deep breath in his lungs, as he looked at her alarmed, as her breathing paced.
Her eyelids stretched open slowly, revealing her hazy brownish orbs, meeting his dark ones. As their gaze connected for seconds, he cupped her face.
"Hum pahonch gaye?" (We reached?) She mumbled through her slurry tone, too dizzy to keep her eyes open.
He knew that she was in effect of medicine. She would gain sense for mere seconds, and soon she would drift back to unconsciousness again, like she did earlier in the night. But before that he needed to tell her something.
"Haan, tum ab theek hojaogi. Hum jeet gaye Khushi. Ab kisibaat ki chinta mat karo!" (Yes, you will be fine now. We have won, Khushi. Don't stress about anything!)
He spoke warmly as she hummed. Except that, not much response came from her. Instead, again her eyelids dropped close, hiding her baby brownish orbs from him, as she drifted back into her sedated state, and he sighed, patting her head, pulling the blanket over her to cover her properly.
