❝"I refuse!", was her deafening scream. The temple full of people stood in silence. He watched her, taken aback at the audacity, but not out of his icy cold composure.
He took a step towards her.
"Step back! Step away-"
He yanked her by her wrist...
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San Francisco, California.
The Athenian School.
NAYANTARA Raghuvanshi climbed onto her bunk bed. She slept up on the second bunk. It was already evening. All her roommates were outside, playing or talking. The twelve year old sat on her bed, unpacking her bag. She had a fair skin tone, her hair extending just beyond her shoulders was tied up in a small pony tail. She liked the loneliness. The peace in the silence.
The warden walked into her room. "There is a call from your home.", The American woman said, concerned about the child. Nayantara simply drew in a deep breath. "I will not answer.", She said with a firm determination. The warden tried to say something but then decided against it. She simply walked out of the room.
Nayantara pulled out a family photograph. It was of when she was six. Her mother, her estranged father and herself. A tear slipped down her eyes. Sharp, dark brown. An inheritance from her father. "Mumma..", She mumbled, "Come back.." She knew her Mumma would never. And she knew her Mumma had left because of her father. He was the villian. He would always be the villian of her life.
The Raghuvanshi Palace. Jodhpur.
Aviram sat back in his study. There were no client meetings today. No talks of estates and properties. Normally he would be immersed in a book of business, yet today was not normal. How could it be?
"She has refused to talk.", Santosh said, sighing. "When does she say anything else.", He said simply, "I had told you, it is pointless to let her know of Devika anyways. She refuses to meet-" "Raja ji, she misunderstand you. She thinks it is you who caused her mother to leave.", Santosh, five years elder to his esteemed Raja ji said.
Santosh was Aviram's childhood companion. His family had worked for the Raghuvanshis for ages. He was not just the guard to the King but also his closest confidante, his only friend in the palace. And the only one who could cut off Aviram, while he spoke.
Aviram drew in a sharp breath as he sat back.
"Where is the lie, Santosh.", He said. Santosh heard the tremble in Aviram's voice. The tremble of emotion no one could ever hear.
Saying so Aviram stood up. "I think you should bring Nayantara back. Even if she doesn't want to.", Santosh said. Aviram's lips curved into a strange smile. A tragic smile, yet full of dry humour. "I brought one forcefully yesterday.", He said. He raised his hand, the cuts were still untended to, had dried up. They still looked brutal. "This is the result."
"You should not-" "I am doing just fine.", Saying so Aviram strode out of his study.
Royal Garden, The Raghuvanshi Palace.
"Tch tch!", I said urgently on the phone, "Chutki, I need you to help me out of here! I need to get my audition to Mrinalini Devi! Are you hearing?!" I could barely hear anything except the sound of a broken television from the other end.
Pointless. My whole life and existence is pointless.
I lowkey realised, even if I conveyed my message, she would do nothing. My father had already sent me off to the beast's palace.
I sighed as I walked back into the large hallroom of the palace. The hallroom was larger than any auditorium that I had ever seen.
There was a telephone kept at the centre.
I hopelessly walked down to it. The moment I was about to pick it up to dial my home's telephone it rang. I reflexivity picked the call.
"Hello?", I said. "Give it to my father.", The voice from the other end said. It was that of a young girl.
Father? Who?
A servant took a step towards me but then stopped.
"Who is your father?", I asked. "You are new or what?!", She snapped angrily, "I am Nayantara Raghuvanshi! Give the phone to Aviram Raghuvanshi!"
I froze for a moment. Suddenly I remembered. Indeed, the beast had a beautiful daughter he had carefully kept away from his palace.
"Oh.. I apologise. Yes—"
The phone was snatched from my hand sharply. I looked to my side to find Aviram.
He indicated the servants to leave, and they did. I sighed as I turned to leave.
He suddenly held my hand, softly this time. "Yes. Yes it is Papa.", He said. I paused staring at him. The heartless man seemed to have found his heart.
His expressions changed from heartless cold to the warmth of a yearning father.
I could almost hear his daughter over the phone, standing beside him.
"Who the hell was that?! You have started appointing stupid people like you?", She said sharply.
Hey Devi Maa, the father is rude but the daughter is downright pathetic.
"Nayan.. Nayan, you are misunderstanding.", He said, trying to explain.
Am I dreaming? This man who just got called stupid by his daughter is the man who forcefully married me?!
"She-she is your mother.", He said.
WHAT?! When did I sign up for this? Oh. I didn't have a choice. Sorry.
"What?! Mother?! My mother left five years ago! Whoever that woman is, she cannot be my mother!", The daughter snapped at him. "Nayan.. trust me.", He was begging.
BEGGING!
"Trust you?! You of all people?! My mother left me saying you suffocated her. And now you are compensating by bringing in another woman?! You don't even deserve to be called Papa! I hate you! Just because Vinay chachu said, so I called! But I should never have!", She was shouting over the phone.
My own heart wrenched looking at Aviram. His heartache was visible in his expressive eyes. He stood straight but he could not stop his tears.
I hated the man, but not enough to feel sadistic pleasure.
"You know what?!", His daughter shouted, "How much ever puja you do! Whatever penance you perform! You will still go to hell! I hate hate hate you!"
She literally said what I said this morning. Wow.
Saying so she hung up.
Aviram drew in a deep breath. As if soaking in everything.
He kept back the telephone, looking straight.
"You will not utter a word of what happened here.", He said, trying to sound dominating. But the numbness of his throat was of no help.
Nonetheless I nodded.
He walked away, wiping the tears that were rolling down.
The devil has a heart. The broken heart of a father.
