The Vicious Love Of Royals (Politically Royal Love Collection Novella BOOK)

TVB - 04

DAHARTHYA

I was a ferocious bastard, well aware of my discretions, I opted her the opportunity to say 'No' but how generous was I to allow her dismissal from me?

None.

My eyes stranded on her grey eyes that could be mistaken for green eyes, restraining the internal war that brewed in my chest, my heart was now a slave to her words.
A King was a labourer, a mere chattel of a woman's word.

She raised her chin, those eyes evaluated my face, her pure expression that paraded frivolity.

Her feet screeched, wrenching herself around, she opened the door to her bedroom, and her feet crackled while she sauntered herself in the room. Twisted to face me, those miraculous moments of a smirk on her face, before she sealed the door.

A war that retracted inside my chest, was a medley of contentment that words that would have turned me into a terror weren't spoken, yet again the realisation that I had defeated her and won her altogether made me dread her loss.

Who am I to make a queen that triumphed the world with her mere sight to defeat?

~

AHILYA

A wretched deadbeat have I become? Under the gaze of the man, who managed to unsettle a diva such as myself?

I lay on the door my hands confided on the thumping of my strenuous heart. A brutal woman, who vaulted on the verity that the world hadn't been blessed by someone who deserves me.

And this one man, governed me now, a ruler he was, and I have to believe a real one. He overpowered my senses today when he kissed me,

A woman who has never aboded men to meet her eyes was so brutally attacked by a bull.
And instead of loathing that bull with utter animosity, here I was, panting breathless for how he made me feel outside.

A factual maniac he is to only show me my worth he acquired me in a bet,
But a destructive assailant he was to raid my senses.
An impressive bull he was, to make me, the woman who never bowed to accept a descent and didn't even discern hateful feelings towards him.

Rather, just made my senses my enemy, my traitorous body my opponent.

******

Ahilya Rajadi never learned to bow. And in all the parties, that were carried with Indian traditions he remembered my provision.
I don't bow.
I don't smile.
I don't assemble unrequited conversations with strangers I barely know.

And he supported my ruin with such calmness, he was a king bound to be with a queen, who could victor his populace. But his unbothered opinion was an array of his self and trouble for me.

Every time, he makes a gesture that I hadn't expected from an animal, for that he is not a man, he surprised me.
He forced me to cascade a step downcast from the imaginary stature I had kept myself on.

I was tumbling downwards, from all the parameters I had lived under thinking I always belonged at the top.

But when he treats me for his queen, I am left to question. Am I descending, or he is lifting me higher?

He was standing across from the room, while I was with my leg wrapped on another, my one hand thrown to my wide, while an artist was showcasing her art with henna.

I have curved under his aura, his power and his personality. And I who said won't tie herself around a man's boner implying a cow.
Was voluntarily sitting to carry these torrents.

Someone had held my arm for me, a woman before it ached to keep it out, the servant massaged my forearm and my upper arm because it ached to pose in this position for such long horrendous hours.