I quickly touched my neck with shaking fingers and took a few hurried steps back from him.
Tears welled in my eyes. He stood half-naked, and I shook my head, mentally screaming at myself to indulge his foolish adventures.
“Ranaji asked me to tell you to write a letter to Mahableshgarh,” I repeated, stepping away from him before scurrying off.
It couldn’t happen. No.
I couldn’t feel that way about him. I shouldn’t have gone there.
I hurried back to Nandani’s chamber and found her lying on the bed, the curtains drawn, her loud, agonising screams echoing in the chamber.
I glanced at the physicians beside her.
“When will she be able to deliver?” Ranaji asked, worry evident in his eyes.
I turned to the physicians for their response.“The baby’s feet are on the left, while the head is on the right. We need to wait until his head moves down.”
Ranaji inhaled deeply and gently stroked Nandani’s head.“Until then, will she endure the pain?” he asked, and the physicians nodded.
“Yes, we must wait until the child turns around.”
Her screams grew louder, and I walked toward her with wobbly legs. I held her hand.
She looked at me.“Suman…” she burst into painful cries, and I caressed her hand with my shaky fingers.
“It’s alright, it’s alright, just calm down,” I said, and she breathed in deeply, her chest rising and falling.
“We should have her clothes changed first,” the physician said, and I quickly responded.
“I’ll find something for her to wear.”
Getting out of bed, I rushed to her dressing room. As I searched through her trunks, I found the gown she needed and returned to the bedroom.
“Jiji,” Princess Aishwarya called out, dashing into the bedroom. She adjusted the dupatta on her head, noticing Ranaji, and settled onto the bed beside me.
Ranaji left Nandani’s hand, saying,“I’ll be back.”
She nodded to him.
Princess Aishwarya and I helped her sit. She groaned in pain as we removed all her jewellery. Princess Aishwarya untied the strings of Nandani’s blouse while I pulled her skirt off.
I assisted her in putting on the gown before she lay back on the bed.
Her screams persisted until midnight. We tried to feed her, but she was too weak to eat. However, Ranaji insisted she eat something while the physicians worked to reposition the baby in her womb.
“Get warm water,” the physician instructed. I immediately stepped out of bed and hurried to the kitchen. It was late at night, and no one was around.
“Suno,”“Listen.” Kunwar-sa’s voice caught my attention. I turned to look at him.
“Ji,” I asked.
The fire had gone out in the stove, so I rushed to gather some wood. Kneeling before the small stove, I added the wood and looked around for the fire torch.
“How is Bhabhi-sa now?” he asked, squatting beside me. He seemed upset.
“She’s in pain,” I said, trembling, rushing toward the torch to bring it to the stove.
Kneeling again, I tried to light the fire, but my nervous, sweaty hands made it hard to focus. Memories of that day flooded my mind.
