The Haunted Fortress of Bhangarh: Book 1

63. His dreams, his reality, him

As soon as Rudra entered his house, he rushed up the stairs to see Shweta—something he couldn't do in the morning. Throwing the door open, he peeked inside, but Shweta was fast asleep on her bed, the bandage still wound around her forehead and medicine dabbed on her cheeks while the blanket was snugly over her form. His gaze raked around the room, and he saw Ishita huddled at Shweta's desk in the corner, her eyes darting between the lines of the printed sheets of the thick tome she was perusing.

"Ishita," he whispered.

She looked up from her book and snapped it shut, casting a quick glance at Shweta before tiptoeing across the room and closing the door behind her once both egressed. "Sorry. Didn't wanna wake up Aunty."

He nodded once. "How is she?"

"Oh, she is fine. Just had her meds, and they induce sleep. But after I came from college, I found her in a good state. She was in a decent mood as well. Slightly scared, yes, but she is alright."

He heaved a sigh of relief. "What are you doing here? Where is Dad?"

"Uncle took a leave for the day, but an urgent call had him and Dad head over to the PMO. That's why Mom and I offered to be with Shweta Aunty."

He hummed. "You can go home. You have your exams tomorrow."

"It's okay." She giggled. "I can ask her my doubts when she wakes up."

A small grin cracked on his face. "Thanks, Ishita. You are a Godsend and an angel in our lives. You are the best."

She beamed and slipped inside the room again.

***

She was too busy gazing at the sprawling fort miles below the ramparts encompassing the highest tower. Leaning against the lofty stone fortifications, a serene smile on her lips, she peered at the hills surrounding them while her locks fluttered in the winds, framing her face and landing feather-light touches on her cheeks. He was a few steps behind her, and he hadn't announced his presence yet. She was seemingly too engrossed admiring the fort to take note either.

He took out the sword from its scabbard, and the raucous sound of the blade getting drawn attracted her attention.

She swerved at her spot. "You are late. Again."

The way she puckered her lips, puffed up her cheeks, and placed her hands on her hips elicited a chortle from him. "You wanted to meet me."

"Where were you?" She edged closer to him. "You made me wait yet again."

He heard the way her voice cracked and saw the moisture dampening her gorgeous orbs. Even her hair was devoid of the two customary pink roses she tucked. Concern tugged at his heart, and he cupped her cheeks before allowing the sword to fall on the ground, caressing the soft skin with his calloused thumb. "What is wrong, Chitra?"

She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes. Rivulets of tears cascaded down her plump cheeks. "Our wedding dates are getting finalized between our families as we speak. Perhaps not within this lunar cycle, and if the war were to break before it, I am not sure when it will happen."

"Why are you crying?" he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers.

"The public adores Princess Kalavati. She is the apple of their eyes, and her narrative is gaining momentum, Raghuveer. If they believe her theory, even Prince Surya's protection won't be enough."