He brought my face closer and brushed his nose against mine.
“If you’re married to a prince, you’re just as much a princess, and I aim to make you feel that way.”
His words made me smile timidly, and he slowly put me on my feet after entering the room.
I watched him draw the bedroom curtains for privacy. The attendants wouldn’t walk inside after seeing the drawn curtains, even if anything happened to the world outside.
I stood quietly and watched him walk toward the couch.
“Come here, Sumanika Ji,” he said, patting the seat.
I bit my lip, trying to suppress a smile, then moved toward the couch and settled beside him.
He had won. Already. Way before I could know.
As I sat down, he shifted closer.
“Was that man good?” he asked, and I gulped silently, not knowing what to answer.
I shook my head slowly.
“The only man I know is Kunwar Agastya Dev Singh. No man would ever be as good as him for me. So, he was not,”
A slight smile curved his lips.
It was the truth, though. No one could change for me. Among hundreds of men near the pyre where I lay waiting to be burned alive, he stood out as the only real man.
“You know, you don’t have to say that. That was what was needed at that moment,” he stated, pulling the plate closer.
“And you could have made it so I don’t exist anymore. But here I am, in your chamber, on your couch, watching you have dinner and seeing you taste something I didn’t know existed in my body.”
He bit his lip.“You know you’re making me crave it again.”
His lips looked captivatingly wet. The way his teeth pressed against them filled me with immense warmth, rushing the heat to my cheeks.
I quickly averted my gaze, realising what my thoughts focused on.
I clenched my hands on my skirt. He was enslaving me. I felt more drawn to him whenever he was gone. After waiting anxiously for him for days, the moment of our union felt rewarding.
“Your absence hurts me,” I whispered, and he briefly closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to go either,” he muttered slowly, tearing off a bite of food.
“Then why are you leaving so often if it’s not that bad? I didn’t even know you would leave after that... between us,” I drawled the last words, too embarrassed to mention.
“I just wanted to see you before I left,” he said, pursing his lips.“I’m sorry if it seemed like I used you for my pain or something. I didn’t come to you for that; I just… wanted to be with you. Like, lock your image in my heart,” his fists clenched tightly over his thighs, and his voice faltered.
My brows furrowed in concern at his altered expressions.
I reached out and placed my hand over his. It felt cold—a strange contrast after we had just warmed up by the fire.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, and he looked at me worriedly.
There was a slight pause before he muttered,“Everything.”
I lowered my gaze, recalling our first conversation after our unfinished wedding.
“Elaborate,” I said.
