Warrior Hearts

After Party

As the guards pull open the dining hall's doors for me, I prop my chin out ever so slightly, straightening my back until it's ramrod straight. Striding into the hall, my walk exuding confidence, I immediately get to work on finding Singhania. Truth be told, I'm eager to see his expression when he realises that I shunned the gown he gifted me and adorned an outfit of my own. In fact, the excitement to attain such satisfaction has my heart hammering against the confines of my chest. 

I pay no heed to any of the faces that are gathered in small clusters throughout the hall. Instead, I allow my gaze to make a wide arc across the room, starting from the left and making its way to the centre. However, Singhania is nowhere in sight. Furrowing my brows ever so slightly, I end my search towards the extreme right corner of the room, where a huddle of three are deep in conversation. At once, my eyes widen with pleasure. Singhania is one of the three members of this group, his back turned towards me. Although I can tell that he is engaging in conversation with a lady, Singhania's broad shoulders are blocking her face from my line of sight. However, the third member of this gathering stands out quite evidently to me; Shivam. He's impatiently shifting from one foot to the other on Singhania's left, his hand comfortably resting in the latter's. 

Well, so much for the dramatic entry that I wished to make for Singhania's sake. As if he's heard me, I watch my target of choice glance over his shoulder, his gaze landing right on mine. I should avert my eyes, especially because Singhania has just caught me staring. I should also offer him the smirk that I had planned on delivering. However, Singhania's reaction has rendered me utterly impotent. The second his eyes locked on mine, I saw them light up with unabashed joy, his lips breaking out into a welcoming smile. But then his gaze loitered south, assessing my attire for the night. The slightest of frown lines now mar Singhania's forehead as he allows his gaze to trail along my length twice, almost as if he doubts his own eyes. This time when Singhania's gaze returns to mine, it's shrouded in a cloud of disappointment

Just like that, all the satisfaction I had entered with - and that I expected more of - oozes out of my body, dissolving into the tiles under my feet. In place of it, however, I am awash with guilt. Recovering from his momentary state of shock, Singhania smoothes out the lines in his forehead, offering me another smile. Unlike the previous one, however, this smile doesn't reach his eyes and neither is it complemented by the light in his orbs. On its own volition, my right foot plants itself on the tile in front of me, urging me in Singhania's direction. As if in coordination with its partner, my right hand raises itself in the air, its fingers aimed towards Singhania. And for the first time, the words, 'I'm sorry,' are perched at the tip of my tongue. However, before I can so much as blink an eye in Singhania's direction, a squeal pierces through the disjointed chatter in the air around me. 

"Arohi!" Sur's voice enters my ears mere seconds before I feel her front slam into mine, knocking the breath out of my lungs. Dumbfounded, I blink at Singhania over my sister's shoulder, her arms tightening their grip around my body. 

"S-Sur?" I stutter, as my arms languidly wrap themselves around her petite frame. How in the world is my sister here? What is she doing here? When in the Lord's name did she arrive? 

"Happy birthday, Arohi." Sur releases another squeal, pressing herself tighter against my body. 

"Thank you," I say, a few seconds later than I should've. The whirlwind of questions in my mind are quite clearly slowing down the gears in my head. "H-How'd you end up here?" 

"My beloved brother-in-law invited me, of course." Sur replies, her tone oozing with excitement. Truth be told, I can feel the aura of inflated energy that is emanating from her. "Father is here too. Look!" Stepping away from me, Sur turns around, her index finger guiding my line of sight in the direction of the dining table. Sure enough, seated at the head of the table is our father. Shaking my head in disbelief, I clasp my hands over my lips, suppressing a gasp.