The Enemy's Daughter

Chapter Sixteen

 Priyadarshini washed her hands after binding the wound. He was reclining on the pillows, watching with interest as she hummed under her breath while working. She started to rise, but he gripped her arm, pulling her near and clasping her to his chest.

"Careful, my lord," she cautioned, trying to wriggle out of his grip.

"Sit still, Princess. You are as prickly as the prickly pear which grows in the desert."

She threw him a sharp glance. What did he expect? She had still not forgiven him for keeping his visit to Reshamgarh a secret from her. He leaned near, his breath warm on her face. She turned her face away, staring at the mural on the wall.

"Lalita told me how upset you were to see me at death's door. Don't pretend that you are indifferent to me, my wife."

"So, you wish me to care for you, while you do not care a whit for me, your wife? Had you truly felt even a bit of concern and affection, you would have told me about your visit to my father's house, and I am not even referring to what happened after you returned. You were totally brutal," she taunted, her eyes sparking fire, while her breast rose and fell in agitation.

He flashed her an innocent smile, trying to placate her, but she wasn't going to be fooled so easily. His actions were far from innocent. Playing with a ringlet of her dark curls, which lay on her forehead, he spoke softly, "I wanted to tell you, Princess. Hell, I even wished to take you with me, but the circumstances were unfortunate. I feared a confrontation with your father, and had no intention of letting you witness it." Stopping to take a heartfelt breath, he continued, "I am really sorry for what happened later. I can only say that I was deeply disappointed to find you angry and your actions annoyed me. Forgive me, Princess."

She nodded solemnly, though inside she felt a warm glow spread through her. He did sound contrite. Maybe, they could still make something of this ill-fated marriage.

*****

"The feast is in honor of my daughter-in-law. Of course, it will also celebrate the Prince's recovery and the vanquishing of our enemies. I wish you to present the best performance that you can, Neelanjana," King Yashvardhan leaned forward to stress the point.

Neelanjana nodded with a smile. "I understand, your majesty. I promise that you shall have no cause to complain." Inside she was seething with fury. She detested the thought of having to honor her rival through her precious talent. Now that Harshvardhan had recovered, she had waited for him on many nights but he never came to her. It was all that woman's fault. What spell had she cast on him that he had forgotten her, his lover of yore? Would she lose her place in court? She hoped not. She had worked hard for it and would do anything to retain it.

On her way out, her glance fell on her rival. The Prince was with her and they were strolling in the garden, enjoying the cool, light breeze which blew at sunset. The couple seemed to be engrossed in each other, conversing with a smile. Neelanjana took a deep breath and then decided to break up the twosome. Her anklets ringing out on the marble pathway, she ambled out into the garden. So deeply were they engaged that they scarcely knew when she arrived there.

"My lord, such a great blessing to see you hale and hearty," she exclaimed with a forced smile. They stopped in their tracks and turned to glance at her, breathtaking in her gossamer fine robes. Her sinuous figure was clearly visible under the almost transparent fabric, a temptation for any hot-blooded male. Any moment she expected Harshvardhan to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, irrespective of his wife's presence.

"Ah, Neelanjana, my dear, what you see is the result of my wife's hard work and skill. You should thank her for the miracle she has worked," Harshvardhan pulled the Princess into an embrace and placed a kiss on her curly head.