I nodded, walking away from there.
?????
2. Agastya
With every step I took away from her, I reminded myself that she needed to confront her fears. It wasn’t my job to make her feel at ease.
Everything I did was meant to protect her, and I’d always look after her as…a prince.
But her eyes looked hopeless and empty, and her smile seemed to vanish into thin air. The pallor of her skin hadn’t faded since that day, and it was all turning into a nightmare for me.
It made me uneasy. I didn’t want to look at her and feel I could do something, but I didn’t.
Reaching my chamber, I noticed the two female attendants packing the requested items.
“Is everything ready?” I asked.
“Yes, Kunwar Agastya,” one of them replied.
I nodded in response and walked straight into the bathroom for a quick bath. However, my mind lingered on the night she brought me food.
She appeared scared, looked exhausted, yet feared sleep.
I understood she wouldn’t quickly get over that day—her past. Despite my lack of knowledge about her suffering, I could still discern irreparable pain in her eyes.
But I wanted her to leave that behind, believing that it wouldn’t happen again.
And I didn’t know why it was bothering me.
She sat quietly before me, her eyes downcast, and I sensed she wanted to stay in my presence. And I didn’t know how to console her; it wasn’t my place.
I didn’t want to ignite that flame in her, since I knew I couldn’t sustain it.
Or we both could’ve burned.
After removing my clothes, I slid into the pool, resting my head against the wall with my eyes closed.
Her haunting words about fear,‘Those who don’t have shadows over their head can’t afford to be scared of fear, Kunwar-sa,’had lingered with me since that day.
Her pain ran deep, and now another layer of terror had been added: fire.
She feared fire. She sat before me while I ate, never lifting her gaze to the flames just a few feet away. Perhaps she sought some comforting words or simply wanted to be near me. Either way, she shouldn’t have come.
Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes again, realising I had been lost in her thoughts when I shouldn’t have been.
She wasn’t my wife. She wasn’t… my wife. My responsibility: that’s all she was.
Maybe, more than responsibility.
I gulped, clenching my teeth, and tried to forget that day, focusing on other things. But one thing gnawed at me deeply: the suffering of the women who had experienced that ritual. I didn’t know what prompted me to protect her, but at that moment, I felt I would lose someone who had contributed so much to my life.
I observed her smiling and laughing with Bhabhi-sa while diligently working every day to fulfil her responsibilities.
She didn’t deserve to die like that. Nobody did.
My heart raced. Without her, I couldn’t picture the future. In that moment, her pain was so overwhelming that I forgot everything and did what needed to be done. I didn’t know how much trauma she had endured.
I was, once again, plagued by nightmares of that day, utterly oblivious to what she was experiencing.
