Nisha's eyes flashed. "This is my family's home. I'll use whatever room I like."
"And I'm family now too, remember? By marriage if not by choice." Advika finally looked up, meeting Nisha's glare steadily. "So I'll use whatever room I like as well."
Mihika leaned forward, her expression calculating. "You know, Advika, you should really learn to be more... accommodating. Nisha's been part of this family her whole life. You've been here, what, two weeks?"
"Twelve days," Advika corrected. "But who's counting?"
"The point is," Mihika continued, her hand settling on Nisha's arm in a gesture of solidarity, "there's a hierarchy here. An order to things. And right now, you're at the bottom."
The words stung because they were true. Advika had no allies here, no power, no place.
But she'd be damned if she'd let them see it hurt.
"Fascinating," Advika said, closing her book. "And where does that put you, Mihika? You're not even family. You're just... Nisha's friend who hangs around hoping to catch the attention of a man who's never looked at you twice."
Mihika's face went white, then red. Nisha shot to her feet.
"How dare you," Nisha hissed. "Mihika is more family than you'll ever be."
"Really? Because I have a marriage certificate that says otherwise." Advika stood as well, tired of playing nice, tired of being pushed around. "Look, I didn't ask to be here. I didn't want this marriage any more than your brother did. But I'm here now, and I'm not going to spend the rest of my life being treated like I'm something you stepped in."
"Then maybe you should have thought about that before you came from a family of—"
"Careful," Advika warned, her voice dropping. "You don't want to finish that sentence."
The door opened, and Rishabh walked in, stopping short at the obvious tension in the room. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," Nisha said quickly, but her eyes remained locked on Advika. "We were just having a discussion about boundaries."
"Looked more like World War Three from where I'm standing." Rishabh's gaze moved between them, assessing. "Maybe everyone should cool off."
"Good idea," Advika said, grabbing her book. "I'll leave you to your 'private' discussion."
She walked out, her head high, refusing to let them see how much her hands were shaking.
The next few days, Nisha escalated.
Little digs at meals. "Accidentally" bumping into Advika in hallways. Loud conversations with Mihika about how wonderful the house had been before the "outsider" arrived.
But it was the tea incident that finally broke Advika's patience.
It was afternoon, and Advika had been in the library—her favorite room in the house, full of books and quiet—when Nisha entered with Mihika and two other society women Advika had met briefly at the wedding.
"Ladies," Nisha was saying, "this is the east wing library. Sidharth's collection is quite extensive. Some of these books are first editions, worth more than—oh." She stopped, as if just noticing Advika curled up in the window seat. "You're here."
"I'm allowed to read," Advika said dryly.
"Of course you are." Nisha's smile was poisonous. "Actually, since you're here, would you mind bringing us some tea? Thekitchen is just down the hall. Darjeeling for me, Earl Grey for Mihika, and—"
"I'm not the help," Advika interrupted, her voice flat.
"Oh, I know!" Nisha's laugh was light, practiced. "I just thought, since you're not busy... I mean, it's not like you have anything else to do, right? No job, no responsibilities. I figured you'd want to make yourself useful."
The other women exchanged uncomfortable glances. Mihika smirked.
"Get your own tea," Advika said, returning her attention to her book.
"Excuse me?" Nisha's voice went sharp.
