Page 23 of Rudra Nandani: The Saga of Control And Seduction

“He left me, and now everyone knows that I had an affair with someone.” She immediately made me look at her.

“What's happening here? I hope this wedding is happening with your consent,” She asked doubtfully, and I held her hand.

“Of course. But it's just not with the man I loved. He left me nothing,” I said.

She turned upset and hugged me.“He did not deserve you, Nandani,” She said, and I smiled, nodding at her.

A loud knock on my door caught our attention.

“Who is it?” I asked, and the attendee from behind the doorresponded.

“Sultan Aahil is asking for Begum24Ruhani,” I teasingly squinted at Ruhani.“Come on, your Sultan is asking for you.” She giggled, and I teased her more.“Tell me how your first time was,” she blushed and told the attendee,“Ask him to wait.”

“So, how was it?” I asked, scooting closer. With a flushed face, she looked down.“What?”

“Stop blushing, I want to know the details,” I insisted, and she looked at me with a wide smile.“It was wild,” I arched my brow.“Wild, huh… Really?” I squeaked.

“Yes. We were in the garden and it was raining heavily that night. He was upset about something. I went to console him, and we got so indulged that it just happened.” She was a blushing mess by the end of her revelation. I was shocked.

“In the middle of the garden? Quite a show for the onlookers,” I commented with my mouth wide open, and she chuckled.

“Oh no, no. It was a private garden, isolated, so it just happened smoothly,” she said. I cleared my throat and gushed,“Well, however smooth it was, just imagining it is hair-raising.”

Giving a benign smile, she said,“Well, you see, Nandani, when it is the right person, you don't care about anything. That's what happened to me. At that moment, I was so much surrounded by him, nothing else mattered,” she placed her hand on my cheek lovingly.“And trust me, when you have someone like that, it'll happen to you, too.” I sighed dejectedly, hearing her words.

Deep down, I knew nothing of that sort would happen to me. But a part of me instantly thought of Rudra listening to her.

“You're right. But now I think you should go to meet your Sultan. He must be waiting for you,” I said.

“Alright,” she hugged me standing up, and I bid her adieu for the night. Once she left, the attendees closed the doors, and I lay on my bed.

With each passing second, my life grew increasingly complex. Only a week remained before my wedding, and I looked at my hands, trembling with anxiety. Soon they'd be adorned with henna, but with someone else’s name. All the things I wanted to do for him, with him, I was now going to do for some other man.

Tears pooled in my eyes as old thoughts haunted my mind. The conversations, the laughter, the secret meetings we had—everything felt perfect, yet my heart wasn't ready. It asked againand again, what went wrong with our love?

After all that happened, my mind persistently lingered on thoughts of him, drowned. It felt as if my body walked past him, but my soul remained attached to him, in his arms, feeling his warmth, refusing to leave his hold.

My insides mourned for what my heart was enduring because of my mind. I wish he had come to me and told me, for him, with him, all the things I would have ended. I would have cried, would have fought, but had he given me an explanation, I might’ve understood.

I would have left him, smiling while holding his hand, for him, with him over my heart, I would have walked. But now my morals wouldn’t allow my soul to remain in his embrace any longer. They pulled my soul from his hold, ripping it away, and it shattered.

Moment by moment, it shattered.

Growing up, I dreamed of a perfect life, but those dreams didn’t matter. I did not know how many girls had gone through it. How many girls suffer this pain—the pain of forcibly overcoming an emotion and living with the ultimate reality for all their lives?

I wasn't bleeding, there wasn't a single cut on my body, but the pain was indescribable, like someone was scraping my heart with a knife.

Lying there on the bed, I didn't know when I fell asleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of footsteps. Sitting up in bed, I looked around the chamber. A few lamps had run out of oil, making the room partly dark.

“Who is it?” my voice echoed as I stepped out of bed.

Suddenly, someone pulled me, and in a panic, I was about to scream. But before I could, a palm was placed over my mouth, and I looked into the intruder’s eyes.

His eyes.Even in the dim lighting and darkest of nights, I could recognise him, with his smell, his touch, his engulfing presence.

He pushed me against the bedpost, and I held onto his wrists, detaching his hand from my mouth. I glared at him angrily, but his gaze softened.

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