Redemption of Royals (Royal #1: Book 3) | ✔

24

"Move." She says tersely.

I obey.

Holding the pleats of her saree, she brushes past me and heads directly inside the washroom. I blow a breath to calm down. I need to think this through, articulate my thoughts well, and then explain her everything. Closing the door, I gravitate back to my chair and sit down. I know what I've to tell her. I just hope she's willing to listen.

The bathroom door opens. I get up immediately. "Tara-" she walks out of the room without heeding me a glance.

"Is everything okay?" Yara questions. "You're unnaturally anxious."

"Unnaturally?" I scoff out and sit back down. "What's unnatural about being anxious?"

"You're rarely anxious. In fact, you're never anxious. But in the last five years, these symptoms have grown more frequent."

"Symptoms?"

"Yes. Irregular heartbeat, sweat, laboured breathing, trembling."

"That's what being in love feels like." I answer.

"Fear shares much the similar symptoms. Maybe it's not love. Maybe you're just afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"I don't know. Emotions are not practical. They're don't have a fixed model. And I haven't evolved enough to understand them." He explains. "And if love is anything like fear, why do people still want to know how it feels like?"

"Because you never allow yourself to feel, Yara, you feel, and you allow yourself to either accept it or deny it. That's in your power. Nothing else."

"So you didn't seek love, but love sought you?"

"Yes." I reply.

"Being human is hard. You've power in all aspects of your life, but not in the ones that truly matter." He mutters.

"If I had a choice, I'd have chosen to never exist. It's pointless." Putting off the glasses, I cup my face in my hands and take a few deep breaths to compose myself.

Fixing my outward appearance, because that's what is noticed more, I leave the room and return to the hall. She's attending the guests. Accepting their gifts. Smiling at them freely.

I've always strived on plans, strategies, tricks and tactics. I never completely betted my future on hopes alone. The probability of universe working accordingly for you is slim. Or maybe none. Hence, I relied on my own to make it work, to win her at my side. And I did. I succeeded again. But at what cost? She's completely unhappy. And it's making me restless.

What's the use of the victory that's acquired in her defeat?

"Shourya," she calls out. I look towards her. "C'mon, they want a photo with us. I know I look pretty, but you can stare at me later. It's not right to make the guests wait. C'mon," she beckons me closer, arm stretched out in my direction, a smile on her face. I walk up the stage and hold her hand, clasping it tightly in mine before I fake a smile for the camera.

"Congratulations, again!" The ladies smile at us before walking away.

Tara quickly withdraws her hand from mine and interlaces it with the other on her stomach. My fingers flex and hand clenches in anguish. I shove it in the pockets of my trousers.