“I’m trying not to, but it’s slowly slipping out of my hands,”
She opened her eyes and looked at me. Our faces were merely apart. We could feel each other's warmth. The night was the only witness to our secret, charismatic, chaotic meeting in the presence of fire.
The fire that brought us closer and transformed us into something from nothing.
But the distance remained. Many questions were unanswered; somehow, I hesitated to answer them because something more significant demanded our attention.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked slowly, and I gulped, nodding slightly.
She sat up straighter and brushed her braid aside before leaning against my chest again. It felt even more comfortable now, and I drew her even closer.
“Have you ever hurt a woman, like breaking her heart or doing something she’d never forget, toying with her feelings?”
Her words unexpectedly made me smile, and I replied slowly,“Do I look like someone who could do that?”
She rubbed her nose against my cheek and shook her head slowly.“No, but still,”
I kissed her jaw gently.“No, I didn’t hurt any woman in my life. Breaking a heart is more brutal than killing someone,” I said, and she smiled.
“Why?”
I tightened my arms around her; the fire illuminated her face, and she appeared like liquid gold. She looked stunningly beautiful in my embrace.
“Because once you kill someone, they feel pain for a moment and then feel nothing again. But if you break a heart, it hurts for a lifetime,” I muttered slowly, and she kissed my cheek.
My gaze dropped, and my cheeks warmed. In my memory, not even my mother, let alone a woman, had ever kissed my cheek.
“Does it still hurt?” She asked.
“What?” I replied.
“The heartbreak from the girl,” she mentioned, and I bit my lip slightly.
“Um… not much, but I lost hope for love after her. I feel like I don’t deserve it,” I said, and she chuckled lightly.
“Well, if that’s the case, then I don’t deserve it either, because I’m a woman who was married for eight years, then became a widow, and now a prince’s secret muse.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Muse?”
She laughed softly, nodding.“Yes, a secret muse, but only when the heart is full of pain or in need,”
I closed my eyes, pressing my cheek against her.
“I’m sorry, but you know I can’t tell you about anyone. My relationship with Rashmika serves as my ticket to Mehrangarh. If anyone finds out about you, everything will be lost, and we’ll be in trouble, Suman,” I explained, and she took a deep breath against me.
The coldness had seeped away from her warm presence.
“I know, and I don’t want anyone to know about us,” she mumbled, and my brows furrowed in confusion.
“Why?”
She swallowed hard.“I’m a widow, and people will think I seduced you in this relationship if they find out. I mean, my name is‘Suman’. It doesn’t even sound like a princess,” she said, pulling her hand out from under the shawl to show me her palm.
“Look at my palm,” she gulped, pausing briefly.“The lines on my hand, the texture, the feel—all of it comes from my work as an attendant. It doesn’t feel soft; it can’t caress your cheeks. We’re not meant to be together.”
My heart sank deeper with the pain consuming our space, and I shook my head, bringing her hand close to my cheek and letting her rub it against my skin.
