"You turned the page..
I burned the book."
- Ishani Rai.
'Cold Blooded Vixen.' They whispered.
Affected by a curse she never deserved, Ishani's traumatic experiences force her to shun love.
In a cruel twist of fat...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Ishani scrolled through the smart tv boredly, almost dozing.
Why were business news so hyped ? She glanced at her half- eaten millet noodles, groaning at the fact that she couldn't bring herself to throw it. Shifting it to another container, she put it in the refrigerator, planning to give it to someone.
"Alexa, TV off please." She mumbled, walking upstairs. A whizz sound made her stop.
Who had dared to sneak inside, when a elite squad of men guarded her? Or was it her imagination that she saw a shadow sneak past?
Mustering up courage, she picked up her phone, about to activate the security when the phone slipped.
A pair of slender hands was the last thing she saw.
Dwapar Yuga,
"Why can't I prove myself, Acharya? Is it because I am a lower caste filth?" The crowd stood silent at the young lad's words.
Clad in a simple dark blue dhoti and white angavastra, locks of hair adorned his lean, broad shoulders. His dark brown eyes burned in fury, holding his bow and arrow.
Shakuni smirked, rolling his dice but Drona was at a loss of words. "Whose disciple are you, Sutputr?"
"Bhargava Parashuram." The crowd burst in gasps and Kripacharya tried to intervene.
Kunti's eyes watered. It was her eldest son, she could feel it in her veins. The one she loved the most but was forced to abandon. Must she tell the truth to everyone? Her heart wavered.
A slight jingling of anklets made everyone turn towards the entrance. A young woman walked inside, clad in a royal outfit. The public murmured in wonder as to why she came in, uninvited.
"Is she a royal Princess?" Vidura shook his head at Bhisma's question.
"I've never seen this Devi anywhere, Pitamaha. Besides, her features don't resemble any royal family I know."
Ishani 's posture was confident and graceful, but inside she was a nervous mess.
'Oh Hell, it's worse than a catwalk. Do I have to bow down like Deepika in Padmavat? But they don't even know who I am. Or should I walk upto the King and introduce myself as the scapegoat sent by their diplomatic relative?'
She recollected as to why she came here in the first place. Possibly he must've left some clues.
FLASHBACK:
Ishani opened her eyes, finding herself on a comfy bed.
The walls gave off an ancient vibe. There was a lamp burning and the curtains were in mural style. She could make out that something was seriously amiss.
"Ishani?"
"Who are you?" She looked at the intruder smiling at her. He was of a dark complexion with a peacock feather. It didn't take her long to realize his identity.
