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12. Welcome to hell

Hiii everybody,

Welcome to siyansh's world

REAL BEGINNING OF THIS STORY

how was the last chapter _________________________

Siya's pov

I am sitting in the palanquin ( palki), and half the journey is already over.

I try so hard not to cry, but the tears just won’t stop. My heart feels heavy, as if it has lost all its strength. It has only been a few hours since I left my family, yet life without them already feels impossible.

My mind is still trying to prossess everything that happened since last night. I still cannot believe it—that murderer is my husband now. How can this be real?

I hate him with every beat of my heart. The first time I saw him, I had prayed never to cross paths with him again. But destiny is cruel.It tied me to the very man I despise and forced me to call him my husband.

No… no! I will never accept him. My hatred for him only deepens. Because of him, every dream I ever cherished lies shattered, scattered into pieces too sharp to gather.

It feels like my heart has been shattered into a hundred pieces. I want to scream, I want to cry out loud, but I cannot. I have to hide my pain, I have to smile and pretend that I am happy.

For my family’s happiness, I agreed to this marriage. But inside me, there is nothing but hatred for him. How will I live my whole life with such a man?

Since years, I had dreamt of my wedding. I have prayed to Mahadev for my Rana sa, for the man of my dreams. But instead, Mahadev gave me a cruel, heartless murderer as my husband.

No… I will never accept this truth. I will never give him the right to call me his wife.

Rana sa ki jai ho.......

Rani sa ki jai ho.....

The loud voices pulled me out of my thoughts. Everyone was shouting his name with pride. But when I heard them call me “Rani sa,” the word felt like a curse, heavy and unwanted to me.

Slowly, I lifted the curtain of the palki, just a little, enough to glimpse the world outside. Perhaps we have stepped into his territory—that must be the reason behind the endless greetings and cheers that rose in waves around us.

Everything looked totally different from Sitapur. The air itself felt unfamiliar. Faces glowed with joy, eyes sparkled with excitement, while I sat quietly with a heavy heart.

“Bhabhi sa, we have finally reached home! The mahal is not far now, just a little more time,” Devar saa said from outside. His voice was full of joy

"Ok," i replied  softly

Everyone glows with happiness—except me. Even the man I never wished to call my husband seems at ease. He never denied this marriage, and back in Sitapur, he had proudly called me his wife at every chance. Maybe he is truly happy about this bond. But for me, it feels like a burden.

With every step the palki moved forward, my heartbeat grew louder, restless, untamed. The chants of the people celebrating us swelled higher and higher,  filling the whole street.

I lifted the curtain again and I was shocked. The road was decorated, flowers were spread everywhere. It looked like a festival, almost like Diwali.The air was filled with the fragrance of fresh flowers.

Finally, we reach a huge gate—perhaps the entrance of the mahal. It is so tall and grand that it feels overwhelming.

A shiver runs through me. My new world looms just beyond that gate.

As the palanquin crossed the gates of the palace, I drew the curtain shut, unwilling to face the world that waited outside. Within moments, they set it down, but my heart resisted I wished to remain hidden inside forever. Out there, reality awaited, one I have no desire to face.

Someone lifted the curtain, and it wasn’t just anyone—it was him. My unwanted husband.

He extended his hand toward me, but I neither need his help nor his presence. Gathering my strength, I stepped out on my own. The veil covered my face, blurring my vision, yet I could clearly see the entire family, devika and all guests standing for welcome.

Maa-sa and Chachi-sa Both looked radiant, as if they has been waiting for this moment for years.

Siya's look

"Hamare mahal me aur aapke narak me aapka swagat hai Rani sa," he whispered, leaning close, his fiery gaze burning into me.

(“Welcome to my mahal and to your hell, Rani-sa,” he whispered, leaning close, his fiery gaze burning into me.)

I had been so absorbed in the crowd that I hadn’t even realized he stood right beside me.

"Hamari jivan me aur aapke narak me aapka swagat hai Rana sa", I shot back, staring at him through the veil, my own gaze sharp as flame.

(“Welcome to my life… and to your hell, Rana-sa,” I shot back, staring at him through the veil, my own gaze sharp as flame.)

"Itna aag sahi nahi hai Rani sa abhi aap hame janti nahi hai," he whispered with a straight face, each word pressed like a challenge.

(“This much fire is not good, Rani-sa,” he whispered with a straight face, each word pressed like a challenge. “You don’t even know me yet.”)

I met his gaze from behind the veil, my voice low but unyielding. "Aap ne abhi tak hamari aag dekhi hi kaha hai, aur ek bar phir kehte hai hame aapko janne me koi dilchaspi nahi hai."

(I met his gaze from behind the veil, my voice low but unyielding. “You haven’t seen my fire yet. And once again, I am saying —I have no wish to know you.”)

Beta aaiye, andar chaliye,” maa sa said with smile.

(“Come inside, beta.”)

At Maa-sa’s words, my gaze shifted toward her and Chachi-sa. Both stood in front of us, their faces glowing with wide smiles.

Maa-sa gently placed her hand on my right shoulder, guiding me toward the gate. Beside me, he walked alongside Chachi-sa.

The weight of my heavy lehenga made it difficult to take long steps. I moved carefully, one small step at a time. But then my foot caught in the folds of my lehenga. The veil blurred my sight, and before I realized it, I stumbled. I was about to fall—when Maa-sa’s hand caught me from one side, and his grip steadied me from the other.

There are approximately 20 to 25 steps before the gate.

And then, in the very next moment, something happened that left me utterly shocked. My feet no longer touched the ground—I was suddenly lifted into the air, cradled in Rana-sa’s arms. He carried me in a bridal style, as though I weighed nothing at all. His face was stern, unreadable, showing not the slightest trace of emotion as he strode toward the gate with me in his arms.

(Just imagine—Siya is under her veil, and Ekansh is climbing the steps.)

I could feel every eye fixed on us. Soft whispers and giggling sound rippled through the crowd, though their words blurred into nothing more than echoes in my ears.

“What are you doing? Put me down—everyone is watching. What will they think?” I hissed under my breath, my voice sharp with anger, meant only for him.

But he didn’t answer me, didn’t even look at me. He just kept walking as if I hadn’t spoken at all.

His silence made me even more angry. I was starring him in anger.

"Rani sa, Hum aap ko Itne bha gye hai ki aap ki nazre hi nahi hat rhi hai hamse," he said with a straight face, not even looking at me as he kept walking.

(“Rani-sa, it seems you already like me so much that you cannot take your eyes off me," he said with a straight face, not even looking at me as he kept walking.)

“Just shut up,” I muttered through gritted teeth, seething with rage.

This man will drive me mad one day. Perhaps one day, I truly will kill him.

He continued walking until we reached the gate. Maa sa’s voice came gently, yet firmly, “Ekansh, put Siya down at the entrance.”

Obeying, he lowered me to my feet at the threshold. We stood side by side in silence.

Maa sa and Chachi sa moved forward, while the rest of the family waited behind us.

"Wah, bhai sa aapne to abhi se sarva sresth pati banne ki suruat kar di hai," Devar sa teased him in excitement, stepping beside Maa sa.

(“Wah, bhai sa, you’ve already started proving yourself to be a good husband,” Devar sa teased him in excitement, stepping beside Maa sa.)

The place immediately filled with laughter and giggles.

He stood on my left, expression unreadable, while I turned my face toward him with quiet anger. Thankfully, the veil hid my expression from everyone’s eyes. All this chaos was because of him, yet he stood there as though nothing was happening.

“Ha bhai sa, we believe you two will be the best couple in the world,” Prisha said joyfully as she came forward and stand besid Devar sa.

Now Maa sa, Chachi sa, Devar sa, and Prisha stood in front of us.

“You two can’t stay quiet, can you?” he scolded Devar sa and Prisha in a firm tone.

Two maids entered—one carrying a plate, which she handed to Chachi sa, and another with the aarti thal, which she offered to Maa sa. Then they stepped aside with lowered heads.

Chachi sa, smiling warmly, took  handful something from the plate and performed our nazar utarna (to protect from evil eyes), circling that five times before placing it back on the plate and returning it to the maid.

"Iswar aap dono ko duniya ki har buri nazar se bachaye," chachi sa blessed us, her voice full of affection and love.

(“May God protect you both from every evil eye,” Chachi sa blessed us, her voice full of affection and love.)

Then Maa sa stepped forward with aarti thal. She applied a small vermilion dot on our foreheads, sprinkled rice mixed with flower petals over us, and performed our aarti. Handing the thal back to the maid, she said with teary eyes, her words soaked in love and blessings, “The goddess of my home has finally entered her new house.”

I remained silent. We stood there quietly—he with a straight face, and I with a broken heart.

Two more maids appeared—one carrying a kalash brimming with rice, and another with a thal of aalta. The maid carefully placed the kalash before me.

"Beta is kalash ko apne daye pair se giraiye aur andar parwes kariye" Maa sa instructed lovingly with smile.

(“Beta, push this kalash with your right foot and step inside,” Maa sa instructed lovingly with smile.)

Prisha and Devar sa bent down before me. I instinctively stepped back and whispered softly, “What are you both doing?”

“Bhabhi sa, we’re taking off your jutti. You have to perform the griha pravesh ritual now,” Devar sa said with a smile, both kneeling infront of me.

“Yes, bhabhi sa,” Prisha added eagerly.

“Please don’t do this. Stand up—I’ll do it myself,” I said softly, my eyes brimming with tears at their affection.

“I’ll remove it,” Devika offered from behind.

"Nahi hamari bhabhi sa ki jutti hum soyem nikalenge," Devar sa declared firmly, raising a hand to stop her.

(“No. Only we will remove our bhabhi sa’s jutti,” Devar sa declared firmly, raising a hand to stop her.)

“Bhabhi sa, please let us do this, otherwise we won’t get up,” both pleaded together, almost childishly.

I have no choice but to nod, though unease still weighed on me.

“Bhabhi sa, you are like a motherfigure to us, It’s our right to touch your feet,” Prisha said with a bright smile.

“Yes, bhabhi sa,” Devar sa added.

They removed my jutti and stood up proudly, still holding it in their hands.

I moved forward, gently pushing the kalash with my right foot. Grains of rice spilled and scattered across the floor as we stepped into the house.

At that moment, flower petals showered over us from all sides.

"Hamari pyari bhabhi sa ki unke naye ghar me unka swagat hai," Devar sa and Prisha cheered, laughing as they continued to shower petals.

(“Our beloved bhabhi sa is welcomed into her new home,” Devar sa and Prisha cheered, laughing as they continued to shower petals.)

Another maid placed the aalta thal before me. Beyond it, a long white cloth had been spread on the floor, beautifully decorated with flowers along its edges.

"Beta ab apne pair es aalta me daliye aur apne pairo ke nisan es safed wastra par chhorte huye andar aaiye," Maa sa guided tenderly.

(“Siya, beta, place your  foots in the aalta and walk onto the white cloth, leaving your footprints inside,” Maa sa guided tenderly.)

Lifting my lehenga slightly with both hands, I stepped into the aalta with my right foot first, then my left. Slowly, I walked forward, leaving crimson footprints behind me. He walked silently by my side, and soon everyone followed us in.

The mahal echoed with joy and laughter, its walls alive with celebration. Inside, the palace looked even more breathtaking—every corner glowed with grandeur. Wherever my eyes wandered, I found beauty; each space was adorned with such care, as if the very walls had been dressed for this moment.

Maa sa gently lifted my veil and placed it just above my forehead. Her eyes softened as she whispered, “You look like Goddess Lakshmi herself.”

Chachi sa added with a smile, "Bhabhi sa ye bhi koi kehne ki bat hai hamari Siya hai hi laxmi,"

(Chachi sa added with a smile, “Bhabhi sa, what’s there to even say? Our Siya is Lakshmi by birth.”)

"Beta ab bass ek hi rasam baki hai mandi me pooja karna hai," maa sa said warmly.

(“Beta, only one ritual remains now. You must perform a pooja in the mandir,” Maa sa said warmly.)

They led us toward the temple inside the haveli, with all the family members and guests following.

When we reached, Maa sa guided, "aap dono sath me milke mandir me diya jalaiye."

(When we reached, Maa sa guided, “Both of you, light the diya together in the mandir.”)

At her words, my gaze instinctively shifted toward him. My heart resisted. I don't want to perform the ritual with him, yet duty left me no choice.

Before I could  look away, he whispered firmly, as if he had read my very thoughts. "Yaise ghurne ki jarurat nahi hai, hame bhi koi saukh nahi hai aapke sath diya jalane ka bas majguri hai,"

(Before I could look away, his voice brushed against me in a firm whisper, as if he had read my very thoughts. “There’s no need to stare. I  have no desire to light a diya with you either—it’s only compulsion.”)

Something in his tone startled me. He was suddenly so serious, so cold. But I pushed it aside—it wasn’t  my concern.

“Siya beta, what happened? What are you thinking?” Chachi sa asked kindly, her smile gentle.

“Nothing,” I replied softly. “I am just going to light the diya.”

Smiles played across everyone’s faces as he and I moved forward. Together, with hesitant hands, we lit the diya and performed the aarti.

"Beta ab aap dono es rang me apna hath daliye aur mandir ke diwar par chapa lagaiye," Maa sa instructed, offering a thal of red colour.

(“Beta, now dip your hands in this color and press them on the temple wall,” Maa sa instructed, offering a thal of red color.)

One after another, we pressed our palms into the color and left our handprints upon the sacred wall. 

Then we bowed, taking blessings from the god and from all our elders. Their words overflowed with hopes for a strong bond and a bright future—but between us, there is no bond, and no future. He is a stranger, one I could only hate with the depth of my heart.

“You all must be tired after such a long journey,” Maa sa said kindly. “First, eat something, then rest.”

“Yes, we’ll look after the guests,” Pita ji said, leaving with Chacha sa.

“You both, come with me,” Maa sa said softly, taking my hand and guiding us to a hall.

There, a spread of food awaited us—varieties of dishes and sweets laid carefully across the table.

“Beta, sit here,” Chachi sa said, motioning to the same sofa where he sat. Reluctantly, I sat beside him.

Prisha, Devar sa, and the others settled on nearby sofas.  Prisha pulled Devika close beside her, and the two of them laughed together like good friends.

Soon, the maids entered and began serving food. A plate full of dishes was placed in front of me, but my heart was restless—I couldn’t feel hungry at all. how could I feel hunger in this situation?

"Maa sa hame bhukh nahi hai. Hum khana nahi khana chahte," I said softly.

(“Maa sa, I am not hungry. I don’t want to eat anything,” I said softly.)

"Bhabhi sa aapka swasth thik nahi hai kiya aapne raste me bhi kuchh nahi khaya tha na hi jal piya tha aur aap abhi bhi khane se inkar kar rhi hai," Prisha asked, her voice laced with concern.

(“Bhabhi, are you unwell? On the way you didn’t drink water either, and now you refuse food,” Prisha asked, her voice laced with concern.)

“Yes, I’m fine. I just don’t feel like eating,” I answered gently.

“Beta, I know it’s difficult for you, but eat a little. Otherwise you’ll fall sick,” Maa sa lovingly in concern.

“Yes Siya,” Chachi sa added, “we understand your unease. But remember—we are your family too, and this is your home now.”

“yes chachi sa you are right,” I admitted faintly, “but I don’t feel like eating.”

“Everyone, start your meal,” he said suddenly, his voice commanding. His gaze, however, remained fixed on me. All this time, he had been silent—yet now he ordered everyone with authority.

He said firmly, “Maa sa, Chachi maa, don’t worry. She will eat,” he continued calmly, his expression unreadable.“sit and have your food. You both hasn’t eaten since morning.

To ye Chachi sa ko Chachi Maa bulate hai.

He can be cruel for world, but with his family, he becomes an entirely different man.

Then, he leaning closer, and wishpered coldly his words cut like ice against my ear. "Hame to laga tha aap bahut tagatwar hai, par aap ne to Larne ke pehle hi har man li achha hi hai ose bhi ham se jitna mumkin nahi."

(Then, he leaning closer, and wishpered coldly his words cut like ice against my ear. “I thought, you are strong. But you’ve surrendered before even trying. Perhaps that’s better—because defeating me is impossible.”)

I turned to him, startled, my whisper barely audible. “What do you mean?”

His eyes stayed on the table, his tone sharp but controlled he wishpered to me. "Ladne ke liye tagat chahiye hota hai aur tagat ke liye khana parta hai par aap  sirf lachari bhichari ki tarah ro sakti hai aur kiya karengi aap,"

(His eyes stayed on the table, his tone sharp but controlled he wishpered to me. “To fight, you need strength. To gain strength, you must eat. But you? You only know how to weep like a helpless victim. What else can you do?”)

Each word pierced me deeper, fanning my anger into flame. I said nothing, only lowered my eyes and began eating quickly—every bite tasting of bitterness, every mouthful fueled by rage.

Good, Have your food properly,” he whispered again, each word edged with cruelty. His gaze locked on me, burning with a ruthless fire. “You’ll need a lot of strength for what lies ahead.”

"Beta aap Itni shighrata me kyon kha rahi hai?” Chachi sa asked.

(“Why are you eating so quickly?”)

“Nothing, Chachi sa, I’m just hungry,” I replied softly.

But the truth was different—it wasn’t hunger. It was my anger forcing me to eat.

After that, he said nothing. His entire focus was on his plate, eating silently, his face unreadable.

Around me, everyone was enjoying their food with laughter and joy. Devar sa and Prisha were gossiping nonstop, and their chatter reminded me of my own past—my endless talks, my carefree fun. But now, all of that felt lost. My life has totally ruined.

Maa sa’s gentle voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Beta aap kisi bat se paresan hai to hame keh sakti hai."

(Maa sa’s gentle voice pulled me out of my thoughts. She asked with concern, “Beta, are you upset about something? You can tell me.”)

I wasn’t upset—I was broken. But I couldn’t tell anyone that.

“No, Maa sa, I’m just tired,” I said in a low voice.

“Alright, beta,” she replied with a warm smile.

After some time, everyone finished their food.

"Beta chaliye hum aapko Ekansh ke kaksh me leke chalte hai aap thaki hue hai na thora aaram kar lijiye aapko achha lagega," Maa sa said with motherly concern.

(“Beta, come, I’ll take you to Ekansh’s chamber. You must be tired. Rest for a while—it will make you feel better,” Maa sa said with motherly concern.)

“No!” The word burst out of my mouth, too loud, too rough. Every gaze turned toward me. He was staring with his usual cold expression. Quickly, I corrected myself and spoke again, softer, almost pleading: “Maa sa, I am very tired. Could you please give me a guest room instead? I just want to be alone for some time, i don't want any disturbance.”

Devika looked at me with questioning eyes, silently asking if I am alright. I nodded faintly in reply.

“Yes, why not, beta,” Maa sa said gently. But her face revealed she wasn’t truly convinced. Still, she didn’t argue.

"Beta chaliye hum aapko leke chalte hai," Chachi sa said with a smile.

(“Come, I’ll take you,” Chachi sa said with a smile.)

“jii,” I murmured, without even glancing in his direction, and turned to leave.

“Siya, I am coming with you,” Devika said with concern.

“Devika, you can meet Bhabhi sa later,” Prisha interrupted quickly happily. “Right now, she’s tired. You came with me.” She pulled Devika away in another direction.

Chachi sa held my hand and said softly, “Let’s go beta.” Together, we walked away.

She led me to a room—large, elegant, and beautifully decorated.

“Siya, take rest. If you need anything, just tell the maid outside to call me. Alright, beta?” Chachi sa said, guiding me gently to sit on the bed.

“Ji, Chachi sa,” I replied softly.

“Chachi sa, can I ask you something?” I hesitated.

“Yes, there’s no need to take permission. You can ask me anything,” she said with a gentle smile.

"Devar sa aur prisha bhi aap ko chachi maa bulate hai," i asked hesitantly.

(“Do Devar sa and Prisha also call you Chachi maa?” I asked hesitantly.)

A broad smile formed on Chachi sa’s face. She replied softly, “Yes, Ekansh, Prisha, and Prem—all three have been calling me Chachi maa since childhood.”

“Beta If you wish, you may also call me Chachi maa,” she added with a warm smile, placing her hand lovingly on my shoulder.

“Alright then, from today I too will call you Chachi maa,” I said with a smile.

“OK. Now take some rest, I am leaving,” Chachi maa said, and after giving me another smile, she left.

I locked the door, ran toward the bed, and collapsed to the bed on my stomach. I could no longer hold back my tears and control my emotions. I couldn’t keep pretending to be happy and strong.

The tears came pouring down as a storm raged inside my heart. I couldn’t believe that all my dreams and expectations has shattered  completely.

I am feeling too lonely and restless.

Knock, knock.

I heard someone at the door.

“Siya, open the door,” came Divya’s voice.

I quickly wiped my tears, unlocked the door, and went back to sit on the bed without glancing at her.

The door closed softly, and then she came toward me.

“Siya… you were crying,” she asked in a broken voice.

At her words, I could no longer restrain myself. I threw my arms around Devika and began to sob.

"Devika dekhiye na ye sab kiya ho gya," I said, crying.

(“Devika, just look at what has happened…”  I said, crying.)

“Siya, calm down,” Devika whispered, gently patting my back.

I stayed in her embrace for a while, weeping, before I finally pulled away and wiped my tears. Devika also brushed away her own, then asked quietly,

“Siya, I want to ask you something… you hate Rana sa, so why did you marry him?”

“The hatred I hold for him can never outweigh the love I have for my family,” I answered firmly.

("Humare man me unke liye nafrat hamare pariwar ke pyar se jada nahi hai,")

“And what about you?” she asked softly.

"Aap hamari fikar mar kijiye ab hum Thik hai. Aap hame wachan dijiye ki es bare me aap kabhi kisi ko kuchh nahi batayengi,"  I said, forcing a warm smile.

(“Don’t worry about me, I am fine now. But promise me one thing that you will never speak of this to anyone,” I said, forcing a warm smile.)

“Alright, I promise,” she said with a gentle smile of her own.

“Good. Now, help me to remove this jewelry. I need to sleep. Only sleep can give peace to my heart and strength to my mind,” I said with smile to lighten our mood.

“Okay, sit here. I’ll take them off,” Devika said, pointing to a chair.

One by one, she removed the heavy ornaments, leaving only the mangalsutra, bangles, and anklets. Finally, she unbraided my hair.

“All done. Now you can sleep. I’ll come later to get you ready for the royal dinner, alright?” she said with a gentle smile.

“Royal dinner?” I asked in confusion as I stood up.

“Yes, tonight you’ll dine in the royal hall with the queens and princesses of other kingdoms who have come as guests for the wedding,” she informed me.

“You mean I have to get dressed again in a heavy lehenga and jewelry?” I asked irritably.

“Yes, Siya. You are now the queen of Pratapgad,” she reminded me.

“Then I really need to sleep,” I muttered, sinking back onto the bed.

“Siya, please don’t stress yourself. Take care,” Devika said, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“I will,” I assured her.

She left, and I locked the door again. Exhausted, I lay down and soon drifted into sleep.

Author Por

On the other side,

Ekansh entered into his room, yanked the bedsheet from the bed, and threw it onto the floor. The pillows tumbled down with it.

“How can she do this to me?” he muttered in shock, clutching his hair in frustration.

“Why didn’t she refuse for this marriage?” he whispered to himself, panting heavily as anger burned inside him.

Just then, his mother entered the room. Calmly, she picked up the bedsheet and pillows, placed them back on the bed, and turned toward him.

"Kiya aapne siya se kuchh kaha hai," she asked firmly, her tone direct.

(“Did you say anything harsh to Siya?” she asked firmly, her tone direct.)

Ekansh lifted his gaze, rose to his feet, and snapped, "maa sa to aap yaha hum se yeh puchhne aai hai, to humne aapki pyari bahu ko khuchh nahi kaha hai. Aap jake unhi se kiyo nahi puchh leti ki unhe kiya hua hai."

(Ekansh lifted his gaze, rose to his feet, and snapped, “Maa sa, you came here to ask me this? No—I haven’t said anything to your precious daughter-in-law. Why don’t you go and ask her directly what’s troubling her?”)

He turned to head toward the bathing room, but his mother's commanding voice halted him mid-step.

"Achha hai ki aap ne kuchh nahi kaha hai aur agar aap ki waja se unke aakho me ek bhi asu aaya to hum bardas nahi karenge," his mother declared, pressing every word with authority.

(“It’s good you haven’t said anything. But remember—if because of you even a single tear falls from her eyes, I will not tolerate it,” his mother declared, pressing every word with authority.)

Her tone softened as she continued, “Why are you so angry, Ekansh?”

He turned back, his voice breaking, his face hollow as if he had lost everything. "Sach me aapko nahi pata ki hum itne gusse me kiyo hai, ab to aap adhik khus hongi na aap jo chahti thi o ho gya. Aap ne hame majgur kar ke hum se apni bat manwali, ho gai vivah aur hum kuchh nahi kar  paye ise rokne ke liye,"

(He turned back, his voice breaking, his face hollow as if he had lost everything. “Don’t you really know why I’m so angry? Now you must be the happiest, maa sa—because what you always wanted has finally happened. You forced me to bow to your will. The marriage is done, and I couldn’t stop it.”)

His mother sighed, her eyes heavy with both pain and conviction. “Ekansh, I did all of this for your bright and happy future. That doesn’t mean I ignored Siya. I thought of her too, just as I thought of you. I am your mother; I know you better than you know yourself. I know you would never do anything dishonorable. One day, you and Siya will become the perfect husband and wife.”

Ekansh’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “How can a decision be right when neither heart accepts it?” he said quietly.

“Right now, it may feel wrong to you,” she replied softly, her eyes glistening. “But in time, you’ll understand that neither I nor my decision was wrong. Some truths can only be felt, not explained. What I felt for both of you—I know it was right.”

Forcing a smile, she added, “Fine, i am leaving now. Take some rest; you’ll feel better.” Then she walked out, hiding her tears.

Ekansh sank back onto the bed and murmured under his breath,  "jab dil me tufan sa chal rha ho man itna bechain ho to aram kaise mil sakta hai."

(Ekansh sank back onto the bed and murmured under his breath, “When a storm rages in the heart and the mind finds no peace, how can rest ever come”)

Ekansh pov

Still i cannot believe that I am married now. And the most shocking thing—the girl who is my wife is none other than the fighter girl.

It doesn’t matter who the girl is. I never wanted to married, and from my heart, I will never accept her as my wife.

From her expressions, it was clear  that Siya too had not accepted this marriage. Yet she had not refused it—not once. She ignored my letter, she stayed silent in the mandap, and even when she had the chance, she did not say no.

Jitna bhi hum unke pariwar ko jan paye h khas kar ke unke bhai sa kisi ne unhe majgur nahi kiya hoga, unka ek na sab thik kar sakta tha par unhone hamari patni hona swikar kiya.

(From what little I have seen of her family—especially her brother I knew they would never have forced her. One word from her would have stopped everything. Yet she had chosen silence. She has chosen to become his wife.)

Now I’ll show her what it really means to be my wife. she didn’t want this marriage, so I accepted it only for that reason. For her, this marriage won’t be a blessing—it will be a lifetime punishment.

Yah vivaah unake lie jeevan bhar ki saja siddh hoga, aur kuchh nahin; ek aisa bandhan, jo unhen punah punah apane hee nirnay par pashchaataap karane ko mazgur karega.

(From today this marriage will be her lifelong punishment only. This Marriage will force her to regret her decision every day.)

I respect her feelings for her family and her family’s feeling. It is never easy for a girl or for a any person to leave their home and loved ones. That is why I remained silent all the time and performed every ritual for the happiness of both families.

I had given my word to her family, and it is my duty to protect her from every hardship. That is why I lifted her into my arms. I had seen how the heavy lehenga was troubling her, how each step was slow and difficult for her to take.

Puri sansar se aur har paresani se hum unhe bachayenge kintu hum se unke koi nahi bacha sakta. Unhone jo kiya hai uske liye hum unhe kabhi kshama nahi kar sakte.

(From the world and from every trouble, I will protect her. But from me—she will never be safe. Which she has done, I can never forgive her.)

"Ekansh," suddenly I heard Pita ji’s voice and came out of my thoughts.

He entered the room, his presence calm yet firm. I rose slowly from the bed, though my body felt heavy, as if weighed down by invisible chains.

"Ekansh, you have to come with me to the royal hall," Pita ji informed me.

"Why should I come? I’m not going anywhere," I replied irritably.

"In the royal hall, all the kings and princes of other kingdoms are waiting for your arrival," Pita ji said firmly.

"I’m not coming. I only want to be alone," I answered, my voice steady but filled with weariness.

"You are the king of Pratapgad. It is your responsibility to attend to every guest who has come to bless this wedding," Pita ji reminded me in authority.

"They seek nothing more than a few words of courtesy, a little talk about kingdoms, and dinner together. Your presence is what matters most," he added.

"I don’t wish to meet anyone, nor do I want to go anywhere. You all can manage everything yourselves. If I am Rana sa, then you are Maharaj," I replied calmly, though my words carried an edge of finality.

Pita ji looked at me for a long moment, his eyes softening. He stepped closer and placed his hand on my shoulder. "I know you are not well, Ekansh. I know your pain, your emotions… no one else can truly understand them. But even so, you must come. This is a burden you cannot run away from," he said gently.

His voice carried both compassion and command.

"We are all waiting for you. Go quickly, bathe, change, and join us," he added with a warm smile before leaving.

The silence he left behind pressed heavily on me.

It doesn’t matter what I want. My desires mean nothing. I am Rana sa, and I must fulfill my responsibilities. And a king does not live for himself—he lives for his throne.

I walked into the bathing chamber. The air was thick with the fragrance of sandalwood and scented paste. For the first time today, a faint sense of peace touched my restless mind.

I slipped off my kurta and poured water over myself. The cool touch against my burning skin was a fragile comfort. I stood under the water for a long while, letting it wash over me, as if water could cleanse not only my body but also the ache within.

After taking bath, At last, I dressed in a simple white kurta. My reflection in the polished brass mirror looked calm, composed—yet only I knew how hollow it was.

Then, with steps that felt heavier than steel, I left for the royal hall.

As I entered, silence fell. Every gaze turned to me. For a moment, the air itself seemed to pause. Then slowly, voices rose again—greetings, smiles, words of respect. I returned them all, respectfully, though my heart was absent.

I took my seat at the center. Around me sat Pita ji, Chacha sa, Prem, and countless guests.

"Rana sa, many congratulations on your wedding," one of the visiting princes said with a wide smile.

"Thank you," I replied, forcing a smile of my own.

One by one, other kings and princes stepped forward to offer their congratulations. I gave each of them the same strained, empty smile.

Soon, the discussion turned to matters of kingdoms. I had no interest in speaking, no desire to engage with anyone. Yet, I had no choice. Unwillingly, with a blank expression, I began to respond to their words—carrying out my duty, though my heart was far away.

Inside, though, I felt nothing but an emptiness that words could not fill.



At night

At Sitapur

Author Por

At Sitapur, the night sat heavy on Siya’s home.

Daksh and Divya were seated on the edge of her parents’ bed, a plate of food trembling between their hands. Her mother wept endlessly, her frail shoulders shaking, while her father sat silently on the side chair, staring into nothingness.

The whole room was heavy with silence. Everyone was trying to stay strong, holding back their tears, but Siya’s mother had been weeping without pause.

“Maa sa, please stop crying,” Divya said gently, her voice breaking. “Since Siya left, you haven’t stopped crying.”

Daksh’s chest ached as he added, “Maa, all the guests have eaten. For our sake, please eat a little.” His tone carried the weight of a son trying to hold his family together while he himself was falling apart.

But Siya’s mother shook her head, her eyes brimming. "Aap log khana kha lijiye hame bhookh nahi hai," she whispered in a trembling voice.

(But Siya’s mother shook her head, her eyes brimming. “You all eat… I am not hungry,” she whispered in a trembling voice.)

“Baba sa, please, say something,” Daksh pleaded.

His father exhaled heavily, his words carrying the weariness of a broken heart. “What should I say? I too have no hunger. You both go and eat.”

Divya straightened, her pain hidden beneath a fragile strength. “Maa sa, Baba sa, do you remember? we all promised Siya that we would take care of ourselves. If she comes to know we broke that promise, it will hurt her deeply.”

For a moment, Siya’s mother froze. Then, with trembling fingers, she hurriedly wiped her tears. “Yes… we gave her our word. She would feel hurt,” she admitted, and tried to compose herself.

“We must not cry,” she added after a pause, calming herself. We must try to be happy.”

She turned to her husband, her eyes searching. “Maharaj… do you think our Siya must have eaten something there?”

Siya's father though his eyes were red, managed a faint, warm smile. “Yes, Maharani. She will be loved there just as she was here. My friends and his family are good people. There She will not be alone.”

“Please come, you both should also eat now,” Daksh urged.

Together they nodded, like children obeying his courage.

Divya laid the plates on the table, and slowly Siya’s mother rose and sat beside her husband. She glanced at Daksh and Divya. “You both too sit with us.”

And so, they ate together—four hearts broken, four pairs of eyes swollen with tears. The food was tasteless, the salt of their grief blending with each bite. The sound of cutlery against plates was broken now and then by the muffled sniff of someone trying not to cry.

After some time, the dinner ended.

“Maa sa, Baba sa, now you both must rest. And please, don’t cry anymore. May We leave now,” Daksh said softly.

Siya’s mother managed a tender smile and said softly. “Don’t worry about us. We will be fine. You both must rest, you must be tired. Good night.”

“Good night, Maa sa, Baba sa,” Daksh and Divya said together. Siya’s parents returned the wish with gentle smiles before Daksh and Divya left for their room.

Inside Daksh’s  chamber, Daksh sat on the edge of the bed, his face heavy with sorrow. Divya, he said softly, "Hum maa sa aur baba sa ko es prakar nahi dekh sakte, hame siya ki bhi bahut phikar ho rhi hai. O Thik to hongi na."

(Inside their chamber, Daksh sat on the edge of the bed, his face heavy with sorrow. “Divya,” he said softly, “I cannot bear to see Maa sa and Baba sa like this. And Siya… I fear for her. Will she be alright?”)

Divya sat beside him, holding his hand with care. "Daksh aaj hi to siya gai hai na, maa sa aur baba sa ko thora wakt lagega sambhalne me tab tak hame hi unhe aur baki sari chijo ko sambhalna hoga."

(Divya sat beside him and gently held his hand. “Daksh, Siya left only today. Maa sa and Baba sa will need time to heal. Until then, we must be their strength. We must hold everything together.”)

She added softly, her eyes glistening, “And our Siya will be absolutely fine. Everyone there is kind, they’ll take good care of her. But we must stay strong, only then can we give strength to maa sa and baba sa.”

She lowered her voice, her tears slipping down. “I can imagine what Siya must be feeling right now… being away from everyone she loves. It’s never easy.”

Daksh’s gaze never left her. Suddenly, he pulled her close, clutching her in a tight embrace. His voice cracked against her hair.“Without Siya, this house doesn’t feel like a home anymore. “Without Siya, this house is nothing but walls and silence.”

Divya clung to him, her own tears falling. “When the light and joy of this home are gone, how can it feel like a home?”

Daksh slowly pulled back, managing a faint smile. “We must take good care of Maa sa and Baba sa and We must stay strong, Divya. Otherwise, when our little princess returns, she will not welcome us with love but with her sword for breaking her trust.”

Divya let out a soft laugh through her tears. “Yes, you’re absolutely right.”

And in that fragile moment—between grief, love, and laughter—they held onto each other, determined to be strong for their family.

At pratapgad

Ekansh walked through the corridor with a calm face, though inside him a storm brewed. His jaw was tight, his eyes sharp, his every step echoing with authority. Servants quickly lowered their gazes as he passed, none daring to meet his eyes.

He stopped one of the maids and asked in an authoritative tone, “Where is Rani-sa?”

“Rana-sa, Rani-sa is in the royal hall,” she replied, bowing her head respectfully.

Without another word, Ekansh strode toward the royal hall, his steps heavy and commanding.

When he entered the royal hall, the sound of laughter, chatter, and playful giggles spilled over like a wave. The room was alive with joy—too alive. No one noticed him at first as he stood at the doorway, broad shoulders casting a shadow across the threshold. His eyes, cold yet restless, scanned the gathering, searching for only one face.

And then… he saw her.

Siya.

She sat at the center, her red lehenga glowing softly under the lantern light. Every jewel sparkled like fire, catching his eyes no matter where he looked. The red bangles on her wrists chimed gently with each small movement, and the bright red bindi on her forehead only added to her beauty. But what struck him most—what made his breath stop—was the vermilion streak in her hairline. His mark. His claim. Against her pale skin, it burned like fate itself. In that moment, she looked like a goddess, radiant, untouchable… yet his.

Around her, Maa-sa, Chachi-sa, and many women sat gossiping animatedly, but Siya remained silent, wearing only a forced smile.

Ekansh’s steps carried him forward, and slowly, heads began to turn. One by one, all conversations died, and the hall fell silent. Siya’s eyes met his—confusion flickering within them as she tried to understand why he was staring at her so intently. His gaze was cold and unreadable, hers soft and uncertain.

“Pranam, Rana-sa,” the women greeted, adding playful congratulations. Ekansh acknowledged them with a respectful nod.

"Ekansh aap yaha aapko kuchh kam tha," his mother asked gently with a smile.

(“Ekansh, you here? Did you need something?” his mother asked gently with a smile.)

“Yes, Maa-sa,” he replied softly. Then his eyes returned to Siya, and in a firm tone, he said, “I am here to take my wife with me. I need to speak with her… privately.”

The words my wife echoed in the hall, sending Siya’s heart racing wildly. Heat rushed to her cheeks as everyone burst into teasing laughter, giving her mischievous glances. Even Maa-sa and Chachi-sa smiled knowingly. Siya’s eyes darkened into a glare, but Ekansh remained impassive, unaffected.

Siya lowered her gaze, fury sparking inside her. How dare he? How dare he call her his wife, claiming her so easily when her heart still resisted this bond? She clenched her fists, forcing herself not to speak.

Ekansh remained unyielding, his expression unreadable. His stillness only made his presence heavier, dominating the hall.

“Maa-sa, may we leave now?” His tone was respectful and polite.

His mother and aunt exchanged uneasy looks—they knew this marriage was far from normal. But with every gaze in the hall fixed on them, Maa-sa finally nodded.

Ekansh stepped forward, his hand extending toward Siya. “Rani-sa… shall we?” His voice was low and calm, leaving her no space to deny him.

Her breath caught. She hesitated, her heart racing, her mind rebelling. But the weight of every gaze pressed down on her shoulders. She placed her hand in his, unwilling, her touch trembling against his firm grip. Rising slowly, she let him lead, his hold neither cruel nor kind, but resolute—like chains cloaked in gentleness.

He did not look back,  did not acknowledge the teasing laughter that followed them. His hand clasped hers, steady and sure, guiding her out of the hall.

The moment they were outside the hall, Siya tried to pull free. “Leave my hand,” she hissed, her voice sharp, breathless with anger.

He did not loosen his grip. His stride was steady, He said nothing, his silence louder than her words.

“I said leave my hand! And where exactly are you taking me?” she snapped, Her voice rose, frustration spilling over.

At that, he stopped. Turning to her, he leaned closer, his voice dropping into a husky whisper.“I am taking you to my room.”

Her lips parted in shock, her heart leaping against her chest. But before she could respond, his hand tightened—not painfully, but with a finality that silenced her protest. Without waiting for her answer, he resumed walking.

_______________________

That’s all for today’s chapter.

I hope you enjoyed reading it!

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