All Strings Attached

Chapter Eight

One of my fav authors updated today, so I thought I might too. Check out Royally Trapped by meethii and you'll know what I mean! don't forget to say hi if you find me in the comments :)) lmao I swear I spammed her notifs today

Sita

"I'm so glad you said yes," my mother cheers, hugging me, acting as if she hadn't just slut-shamed me for being caught kissing Dhushyanth. "Dhushyanth is the perfect match for you."

I step out of her hold, silently, and look at my father, who's wearing a happy grin. "I'm happy for you, bangaram," he says. "Tell me where you want your wedding and how you want it, we'll make everything happen."

Like you made this happen, I think to myself sourly, about how my parents manipulated this situation to seem like I had a choice in this matter. At least my mother was honest about the lack of choice, my father was simply happy to make me believe I had a choice— what a politician move.

"I have no requests or requirements," I declare, trying my best to keep the annoyance out of my tone. "You can decide whatever you want, whenever you want."

"She's just being modest," Nitya interjects, "I will plan the wedding of her dreams, don't you worry," she assures my father, grinning as she hugs him.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her and let them know, "I'm going to go back to Bangalore tomorrow."

"Dhushyanth was asking if he could take you out tomorrow," my father says.

Why was he asking my father?

"He can't," I answer everyone's question. "I have to go back tomorrow."

"To pack all your things?" My mother questions, "I can come and help you with it."

Oh my fucking god. Have they always been so pretentious?

"Why would I pack my things, Amma?"

She glances at my father, who remains smiling, before she shrugs and answers, "because you'll have to move in with Dhushyanth after the wedding. Isn't it best that you pack your things?"

"I want to keep my penthouse in Bangalore," I tell them. "I'm not packing anything."

"No worries," she agrees, "we'll just get you a new wardrobe for a new phase in your life."

Why are they acting like I'm thrilled to marry Dhushyanth? Or like I want to marry him at all? What the actual fuck?

I look at my family for a moment, assessing my surroundings. Are they actually making it seem like I agreed to marry Dhushyanth because I actually want to?

"Daddy," I address my father, "tell me this: is Dhushyanth your political legacy, or is he your son-in-law-to-be?"

My father looks stumped by the question, as though it were stupid of me to ask at all. "Sita, my political legacy isn't going to Mahendra's son," he says, "whether or not you see it— you are my legacy; political or otherwise— you simply hold your prejudice between you and your potential. Stop holding yourself back because of the things that happen around you."

"That wasn't my question," I let him know, tersely. "And I do not want to be your political legacy."

My father merely shakes his head. "This is not the time for this argument. But you should know that I think you're meant for great things."

Like a politician?

Over my fucking dead body.

~.~.~.~.~

My engagement to Dhushyanth is a small ceremony with a Pooja, and an exchange of gifts between our families, held in the most expensive hotel in Hyderabad.