Rudraksh

24 - Jealousy ( Edited POV)

I pulled the sheets over me and forced my eyes away from the door. He was not going to come. There was no use waiting.

At first I thought I would just survive with him, I would hate him for the rest of my life and live for myself, for the people but in just a matter of days that myself was out of the picture and got replaced by him. I had accepted him the night I bought him to life, the night he wished me near him as he was about to walk his last steps in the world all because of me.

All of a sudden... I felt it. His scent, his presence... It was faint but enough to make sure that he was there. He was there but not with me. Maybe he was in his way. Maybe. Sighing, I slept on that faint scent like my life dependent on that tranquil delicacy of it.

I woke alone the next morning. He hadn't come after all. Maybe I was a fool to think he would ever trust me again.

Shaking my head, I walked into the hammam to take a bath. My ladies would be knocking on the door any minute so I made it quick and was out, fresh like a blossom, in no time. Exactly after a minute, a knock sounded on the door. I fastened my ghagra after slipping on my choli and removed the towel from around my waist before saying, "Enter."

I expected the ladies but I saw Rudraksh.

All fresh and dressed up too. Dressed up. Gasping, I made my way to the bed to fetch the cream coloured dupatta that I had put there before taking the bath. It had embroidery and zari work matching the maroon ghagra choli.

"That old priest asked me to get you." Liar.

"Tell him that I'll be there." I didn't dare looking at him.

"Tell him we'll be there." He said to whoever that was standing at the door. A feminine voice said, "Alpha,"

He walked in and past me. After a minute, he spoke,

"About last night... I'm sor--"

"It's fine. What matters is that you are here like the priest asked."

"Right." He muttered, his voice sounded almost sad.

I pinned my dupatta and put on my jewellery. Once done, I applied kohl around my eyes, tinted my lips with a little lip rouge and perfumed my neck and wrists. Then taking a deep breath, I picked up the golden Sindoor box and held it up to him.

With weak smile, he walked to me from where he was standing by the jharokha with his hands in the pockets of his sublime golden kurta. He looked like he had just been dropped on earth from the high heavens. Was he nervous ? He looked like he was.

From his pocket he retrieved a golden box himself and held it to me. I took it with a racing heart and opened it to find vermillion. I took a pinch and applied a perfect Tilak on his forehead.

It was then I looked at him properly. That flawless medium fair skin, those full etched lips, those brown eyes I loved more than anything and that affection in them... Flickering affection that attracted me like flames does to a moth. I knew they would burn me, inflict pain, but everytime, like a damned fool, I would desparately find ways to look into them and think about what it would be like to explore their brown, bottomless depths. His hair were styled to perfection and his cheeks were covered in light, very light, stubble.

I exhaled unconsciously and got bombarded with that intoxicating scent. He took a pinch of Sindoor and gently dragged it across the parting line of my hair.

The third day of Panch Pratha comprised only of Pujas. After seven hours of rituals, we were done for the day. It was three thirty in the afternoon and the day was sunny. The life summer brought along was already blooming. I did my best to ignore Rudraksh all day not because he didn't listen to me but because maybe he didn't listen to himself. He was the one drawing away from me when he was the one to get so close and reveal his pain, his past and bare himself in front of me.

He tried to talk to me after the Puja but I walked straight past him and now was on my way to Vikram while he watched and glared at the Valaskan. I aimed two targets with one arrow, One to make Vikram comfortable enough so that he would carry on his actual business and the other was to make Rudraksh jealous. The latter was in progress even before the former. I was close to him, close enough to know that he was not very happy with me.

"Mister Vikram !" I beamed at him.

"Your Majesty," He bowed.

"Oh ! I told you to stop that at once Mister Vikram. I hope you are enjoying your time here ?"

"I am but at times I find myself looking for the Queen to keep me company." The smile seemed to be a part of his face now for it was always there.

"I apologise on her behalf, My Lord. The Queen remains busy with her duties to the crown but don't you worry. It's just a matter of five days and you'll have abundance of her company."

"Oh I am so looking forward to it."

I pretended to enjoy myself and laughed a lot while I doubted every word that came out of his mouth. I felt Rudraksh's absence and turned to see him make his way out through the front door. He was so jealous. Good. I excused myself to welcome the new guests.

After a long chatting session I made it to my chambers. The cool breeze was soothing. I rummaged through the pile of books to find the one I was looking for. The book had turned almost brown. It was handwritten by a woman around thousands of years ago and had gained such appreciation, it's eight copies had been preserved for millenniums. My father had gifted me one of them on my sixteenth birthday.

It was a story of Mahadev and Sati. I was halfway through a scene where Goddess Sati sees Mahadev for the first time, a knock sounded on the door, followed by Rudraksh Rana.

I felt a tug at my heart and averted my eyes from him. He was so perfect, it hurt me. He loved me so much, it hurt me. He was so close yet so far, it hurt me. At times like that very moment filled with the forbidden duo of neat liquor and worship worthy literature about love and pain, I wanted him all for myself, I wanted to surrender. And at times where my mind emerged victorious over my heart, all I wanted was to be a Queen my father dreamt of, my people wanted, my Kingdom deserved.

As he walked over to me, I called a quick meeting of my very own privy council. The council of my mind, heart, body, soul, need and want. Everything except for my mind, even though drunk, told me to grab the embroidered collar of his suit and kiss him senseless. I kicked my hopeless council out through the jharokha and welcomed another goblet full of aged whiskey.

Already out of his jacket, he in his body fitted white silk shirt, walked through the stepping stones across the pond and into the jharokha.