Chapter 43

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Clad in her exquisite bridal trousseau, Nandini was sitting in her room with tears in her eyes while her cousins and friends were teasing her. Trying to control her unshed tears, she sighed infuriatedly caressing her fate. She did not want to marry the monster her father had chosen for her.

“You are looking amazing. I am sure your husband will not be able to take off his eyes from you.” Her eldest cousin commented giggling at her while she fixed her hair and her soft silk veil covering her head.

Her father, Avinash Singh Shekhawat entered the room and politely asked everyone to leave the room. The old village headman was elated that his little daughter was all set to get married in the royal family of the Rathore clan.

Caressing her forehead, he said, “My doting daughter, don’t let me and my upbringing fail. Your mother died while giving birth to you. I did not marry again because I felt any other lady would not treat you as a loving daughter. My princess, you are lucky to get the best. Savor your life as a royal”.

Nandini could not help but cry at her fate. Her dam of tears broke as she hugged her father and cried her heart out. She tried for the last time as she said, “He may be a royal but he is a threat, father. He is not good.”

“He will be your husband soon. It is your duty to maintain his respect in the society. Don’t speak ill about my son-in-law. Trust me, he is the best.” The old village headman said caressing the hair of his daughter. Kissing on her forehead, he left her room.

On the other hand, Vikrant Singh Rathore was smirking continuously in his palace as he was beyond happy. After all, he was getting a step closer to closer to cut down the wings of the arrogant queen, Maharani Aparajita Singh Rathore. He despised her since childhood because she was impeccable in every sense. From being a perfect warrior to a brilliant student, Aparajita was a strong girl much to the dismay of Vikrant. He always envied her because of the interesting ideas, she used to brainstorm in the royal court. Due to her presence in the court, he was advised by his father to not attend the proceedings making sure there was no room for comparison between both of them.

Getting ready for the wedding, he simpered as he remembered his fierce to-be-wife who would definitely be his in every sense within few hours. Clad in a beige colored silk tunic and myriads of ornaments, he scoffed looking himself in the mirror when his father came inside his room with a terror-stricken face and a letter in his hand.

“She is such a witch”, the old man said disgustingly looking at his son who was decked up for his wedding standing in his luxurious chambers of his new palace. The palace the villagers had built up was nothing in front of the lavish palace of Vijaygarh but unfortunately, they could not see themselves ruling the royal palace and kingdom of Vijaygarh, any time soon.

“What happened?” Vikrant asked his father eyeing him suspiciously unable to understand why his father was hailing profanities for a girl. He mentally prayed to the Almighty to make sure Nandini did not do anything terrible because of some unknown reason he did want his innocent wife to face his wrath on the very first day of his marriage. His heartbeats began to race as his father continued to hail abuses about a woman whose identity was still mysterious to him.

Ajeet Singh Rathore sighed infuriatedly as he said, “My son, please kill that witch, she deserves to die. Such an arrogant, filthy girl, she is!”, as he slumped on the soft bed in his son’s chambers.

Vikrant Singh Rathore was red in anger. Enraged at his father’s irrational behavior, he asked for the last time, “Who?”, roaring infuriatedly.

At once the old man flinched looking at the expressions of his son. Sighing exasperatedly, Ajeet Singh Rathore said, “Here, read this”, passing a letter to him.

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