Warrior Hearts

Reprimanded

Why in the world did I divide the sugar cube in half? Instead of doing so, I could've consumed the entirety of it in my cup of tea, and enjoyed the hot drink as well. Perhaps the guilt that's weighing down on my shoulders is getting the best of me. In fact, that's it. After all, the first thing that I did today morning - after exiting my chambers - was head straight to Dadi's. Unfortunately, she confirmed that last night, Malhotra was, in fact, telling me the truth. That side of the grounds did belong to his mother, and he specially took Dadi's permission to unlock it for me.

Moreover, as much as I hate to admit that this is the truth, Malhotra also dedicated the entirety of two days into constructing the greenhouse for me. Dadi even told me that he did not return to the palace for both those days. On the contrary, Malhotra slept, and ate outdoors, with nothing but his tools to keep him company. In short, he camped out beside the greenhouse all for my sake because he wished to bring it to completion as soon as he could.

"Why didn't you seek Rohit's help?" I blurt out. Upon hearing my words, Malhotra's lips hover at the rim of the cup. "I mean, instead of building the greenhouse all on your own, you could've taken help, Malhotra." Although I'm impatient to seek an answer from the man in front of me, he doesn't seem the least bit hassled to provide me with an answer. On the contrary, I watch as Malhotra leisurely takes a sip from his cup, and then rises to his feet. Without bothering to give me a reply, he turns his back towards me, as he returns to his corner of the room.

"I didn't want anyone else to see the greenhouse before you did," Malhotra replies nonchalantly. Frowning, I stare at his back as he stalks away from me.

"How in the world would that have made a difference?" I fire another question at Malhotra. Unbothered yet again, he lowers himself into his chair, glancing down at whatever paper work is strewed across the surface of his table.

"It would've made a difference to me." He admits, nonchalance evident in his tone. Well, if he's so unbothered by this entire conversation, itself, then how in the world would Rohit's presence have made much of a difference? Lord, understanding Malhotra is beyond me. After watching the man in front of me for a few more seconds - as I down the contents of the cup in my hand - I divert my gaze towards the parchment in front of me. 

"From henceforth, I won't share a physical relationship of any sort with Anusha." Malhotra says, the walls of the room echoing with the promise in his words. Looking up from the papers in front of him, Malhotra locks his eyes on mine. "Frankly, Princess, ever since I brought you here, I haven't had the chance to spend a night with her." Although Malhotra doesn't break eye contact with me, I watch as he combs his fingers through the roots of his hair; a telltale sign of his active nerves. "In all honesty, though, even when I did have the option, and the time, I didn't go through with it."

Why in the world is Malhotra justifying himself to me? More importantly, however, from where in the world did this saintly bone enter his body from?

"It felt wrong." Malhotra adds as an afterthought. However, I can tell that these words are more for himself than for me. "Anusha and I are now purely friends, like Rohit is to me." Smiling, I bite down on my lower lip.

"You shouldn't compare those two friendships, Malhotra," I suggest. Unable to prevent myself from grinning, I glance down at my lap, so as to hide my amusement at Malhotra's words. Truth be told, he's comparing gold with lead.

"Thank you," I say. Knitting his brows together, Malhotra watches me with confusion evident in his orbs. "Not for this," I clarify. "For the greenhouse." Allowing a tight smile to spread across my lips, I offer Malhotra a nod of gratitude.

"The keys to the gate are in this table's top most drawer." He explains, as he pats his palm against the left side of the table he's seated at. "You can take them whenever you wish to head to your greenhouse."

"Alright," I murmur. Truth be told, the mere fact that Malhotra is allowing me access to his table is quite hard to register. "I'll return them once I'm done with my visit."

"Keep them, Princess," Malhotra says. I watch as the corners of his lips tug upwards into a small smile. "It's my gift to you."

*****

"There you are!" The voice behind me catches me off guard, my fist tightening around the rose stem that's in my hand.

"Lord," I cry out in pain, my eyes shutting on their own volition. The centre of my left palm comes alive with searing pain, as it begins to throb with the pressure of the handful of thorns that are now firmly wedged into it.

"Good God, Princess," Malhotra exclaims. I hear his feet hasten their pace in an attempt to reach me, the stray leaves and twigs on the ground shuffling underneath the soles of his boots.

"Don't touch me!" I yell in alarm, as Malhotra materialises in front of me. At once, his hands - that were reaching out towards me - halt in mid air, inches away from my injured hand. Although I wish to see just how bad the damage is, and make an attempt at fixing it, I refuse to so much as budge my hand from its position. My heart hammering in the confines of my chest, I stare at the rose stem as it hangs from my palm. Lord, considering it isn't shifting - not even an inch - I can tell that the thorns have deeply embedded themselves into my skin.

"I...I didn't want to startle you like this." Malhotra, sheepishly, lays forth his case. "I...I'm sorry." Shaking my head dismissively, I release a groan of pain.

"Malhotra, just go away." I hiss through gritted teeth, as I grab onto my left wrist. "I've got bigger things to tend to in place of your foolish guilt."

"Princess, I can help," Malhotra says. However, his tone is pleading, almost as if he's the one who requires a favour from me. "Let me help you. Please." Stubbornly, I shake my head.

"You're the last person I'd turn to for any kind of help," I snap. Eyes wide, I watch as a droplet of blood traces its way along the side of palm, only to land onto the ground near my feet; staining the dirt crimson.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Princess, you're bleeding!" Malhotra exclaims. Why in the world is this man stating the obvious, as if I'm completely oblivious to the blood that's now coating the entirety of my palm. "Look, you took care of me when I was sick, and so this is repayment for that favour. Alright?" With impatience evident in his brown orbs, Malhotra seeks permission from mine.

"Our situations are poles apart," I argue. "I don't trust you." In an attempt to back my words up, I make an effort to shift my arm away from Malhotra, and towards my chest. However, before I can successfully do so, a cry of pain escapes my lips.

"To hell with your stubbornness!" Malhotra hisses, as he clasps my wrist as well; his palm pressing down onto the back of my right hand. Eyes wide, I divert my gaze towards him.

"What're you - "

"Princess, I've had enough of you." Malhotra interrupts me, as he analyses my wounded palm. "Now you're going to listen, and I'm going to speak. Whether you like it or not, you're going to do exactly as I say, and that's final."