The Royal Nightmare

Dubai

"If you convert that to our currency, that is... 14 lakh rupees. Nope, I'm not getting stilettos worth that much." I say as we were walking into the Yves Saint Laurent studio as he shook his head.

"Divjyot, you worn a crown worth 100 times that amount on our reception. It's no big deal." He says, as I almost froze.

"100 times?" I squeal, my eyes wide open.

"Do you want those shoes?" he says, changing the topic as I gulp on my saliva. The people around us stop to look at my high pitched words. I concentrate on his words, instead of the crown as I imagine those black and golden heels with a nice professional jumpsuit and the Birkin bag that he gifted me yesterday. The Hermes guy even recognized him by face, when we went to pick my already wrapped gift.

Yes, we have been in Dubai for two days. We have been sleeping in the same bed, but we wish each other good night like that night in the Majestique Palace and barely talk once the light is turned off. We lay there tense for a while until sleep takes over.

"Okay." I say, still lost in my thoughts.

"I'll get them to send it to our suite later. Now, how about lunch? I hope you don't have sea-sickness." He says, as I frown.

"Sea-sickness? For lunch?"

"It's at a yacht I rented." He says, as I roll my eyes. The outrageous display of wealth this man has done in the past two days has me rethinking my decision of a rich life partner. I can't seem to figure out the expense of wealth and power he possesses and at our disposable. How do we decide what we can and cannot buy?

Is there something we cannot buy?

"Never roll your eyes at the Prince. It is a punishable offence by the rules of our province."

"Never tell your wife what to do. That is forbidden everywhere and the consequences have been witnessed by all of world history." I say with a wicked smile as he chuckles and I could feel my panties stick to my core.

His voice. His deep chuckle started a vibration from his larynx, bobbing over his adam's apple and sending thrill down my legs. He was good looking, when I put the accusations aside.

He was 6'3", muscular with tailored shirts a little stretching at the biceps. I would be lying if I said I hadn't noticed the way his chest and arms bulged when he lifted something heavy or applied force to anything.

His eyes were a soft brown, his lips pink and plump just between those Punjabi mustache ending in upward curls on both sides and a neatly kept beard.

I had seen him in t-shirt and sweatpants and I had seen his bare torso, including the ugly gash that ran down his belly from a sharp wound followed by a surgical incision.

I looked at him, this moment in his proper black turban, with a matching Polo and Safari jacket with a black formal shirt under it. The white tailored trousers accentuated the look with LV black leather shoes.

He was better than me in every way. His dressing, his bringing up, his etiquettes and confidence added to the list of so many things he was just brought up into.

"Something on my face?" he says, as I realized I was staring and shook my head. He would never see me as an equal and he would never fall for someone like me. This made me wonder what would become of our marriage and I sigh. How long do I sleep in the same bed without him making a move at me?

"I'll tell them to pack those heels in your size and send it. In the meantime go have a look around if you want something else." He said, going towards the counter as I just nodded. I needed to get away from him, time to time to tell myself that I was always overstepping.

I look across the beautiful leather bags, trying to sneak a look on the price. They don't display the price clearly and that's torture. I keep walking forward into the store with distraction as my main purpose when my eyes land on the make-up section. The lipsticks had shades that took my breath away.

YSL makes lipsticks too?

"Mam, would you like to check something out?" the man in the store says in his arabic accent, as I look around for the prices. One thing I found common was these luxury stores barely listed prices and if they did it was in corners so much away in direct contrast to our normal supermarkets.

"Yes, she would." I hear my husband speak, his breath falling on my shoulder as I don't even have to turn and look at him. I looked at the salesman and nodded with a smile.

"Yes please. Something closer to shades of nude." I say, as I feel my husband shift uneasily beside me. What did I say wrong?

After about 15 minutes of trial and testing on the inside skin of my arm- NU Transgression, Burnt Suede, Secret Rosewood and Brazen Nude were the four shades I was confused between.

"We'll take these four please." Tejas speak as I opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out.

17k on 4 lipsticks?

That was way too much. I wanted a single lipstick as a keepsake but this wasn't asked for.

I take a deep breath and calm myself. I was married to him and I need to leave my middle class thinking behind if I want him to respect me.

And I can't argue with the prince in the middle of the mall, but he will hear about this later.

Soon, we were walking out of the mall and towards our rented Maybach S-class as he spoke, "You are quieter."

"Oh, nothing."

"I like it when you stand up for yourself. I'm still raking my brain for a comeback to that ' Never tell your wife what to do' comment." He says as I laugh. His phone rings, as he looks at it and groans. "Get in the car, I need to take this."

I nod, and walk as the driver opens the car door for me. I sit in as he shuts the door and walks to his seat in the front. A song in a foreign language played, with a tone slow and relaxing. I unlock my phone for the first time in the past 4-5 hours as I saw a text from Raavi.

[If you're still in Dubai, there's this limited edition perfume launched by Armani. Please get it, since Tejas veer ji hates walking inside a female section of the store. You might have to manage this alone. No worries if you have left Dubai, I'll ask Alex to send his advisor in Dubai to get it and send it. Safe journey <3]

I look up at Tejas talking on his phone in a very mixed expression, as if trying to sound happy but not being actually happy on getting that call. He disconnects and walks to the other side of the car and gets in beside me.

"I'm so sorry. The lunch isn't private anymore. A business partner is joining us on the yacht." He says, as I nod.

"No worries." I say as he turns to meet my eyes, as the driver pulls out the car.

"Something you want to ask?"

"Raavi says 'you hate walking inside a female section of the store', why didn't I feel that once in the past two days?" I say, as he shake his head.

"It's... I just... I'll go to moon and back for you, even though I might hate the journey. You are my wife and It's my duty. If I won't do it then who will?"

For a moment words failed me as my mouth was left wide open. Is he a good undercover agent or does he truly feel that for me?

Na, I can't be that lucky. He's just a good actor. But he subtly made something romantic into a formality by tainting it with the 'duty'. I'm his duty. What will it take for me to be his love?