Chapter 1
Font:
Text Size:
Theme:
[MEMBERSONLY]
Banner Credit:LooneyLuna
This update goes out to Cravingkhana, LooneyLuna and Semanti, my three musketeers.
June , 2013.
Sheesh Mahal, Lucknow.
The hem of her blue silk saree whispered along the marble staircase, the soft swish of the fabric against her skin reminding her of the reason why she was here.
A Cocktail event at Sheesh Mahal, something that she still couldn't believe that she was a part of...
How had this happened?
How had everything changed so dramatically?
She knew the answer to that, though.
It was all because of him.
She paused on the staircase, her eyes closing of their own volition while her hand clutched the banister for support.
Her heartbeat raced as usual, the mere thought of his name was enough to ensure that her breathing stuttered and her pulse went haywire.
This wasn't right.
She closed her eyes, unwilling to listen to that tiny voice in her head that insisted on reminding her of that fact.
She had spent her entire life worrying about right and wrong, but she did not want to do that anymore.
Not now.
Not here.
Just hours earlier, she had finally decided to give in, to trust.
To believe.
And she would hold on to that belief, and allow herself to dream.
Wasn't she allowed to do so, after a lifetime of crushing her dreams under the weight of her aspirations?
She opened her eyes, her heart soaring with hope again.
She took a few more steps, until she reached the first landing where the stairs divided into two.
As she turned towards the stairs on the right, her gaze dropped to the glittering crowd below, a collection of Delhi's elite.
All flown down to Lucknow for this very special occasion, of course.
For a moment, her mouth twisted in a slightly cynical smile.
This celebration was merely a cover for what really went on here, she knew that for a fact.
And no one knew that better than she did.
She stared down at them for another moment, wondering just how many decisions would be made, deals would be bartered and negotiations would be concluded tonight.
In the usual scheme of things, she would be an integral part of that too.
But not tonight.
Tonight was for her, the woman who had stayed hidden for too long.
The woman that he had brought to the fore...
She turned away, finally ascending the stairs that led to his room.
Or so she had been told. She really had no idea about the layout of this house, and definitely not this wing...
As she climbed, her misgivings threatened to return, causing her footsteps to falter.
Why was she allowing herself to do this, to believe, to dream?
When all her life, he had been the focus of another emotion altogether?
She took a deep breath, and reminded herself that she wasn't doing anything permanent or irrevocable.
Not yet, at least.
All she was doing was giving them, and him, a chance...
A chance to see where this thing between them could go, if they didn't allow that other thing to interfere.
All she was doing was allowing herself to believe in the promise she had seen in his eyes, his voice...and his touch.
A promise that had only been evident from the past few days...
Yes, that was all she was doing.
There was no need to panic, really.
She walked quickly, until finally she was standing at the top of the flight of stairs, staring down the dimly-lit corridor at the double doors in the distance.
As she started towards those doors and the tinkling sound of her payals and silver bangles filled the hallway, she suddenly realized that her heart was pounding again.
But why?
There was no reason, none at all. All she had come here to do was bring him back down to the party, where he belonged.
For a moment,she wondered if she should have asked a member of his household staff to do so. But she didn't want to draw undue attention to the fact that he was absent from the celebrations despite being the host, and so she had taken it upon herself to get him back downstairs before his absence could be remarked upon.
No one had noticed when he had discreetly withdrawn from the crowd and headed for the staircase, but she had.
She always knew when he entered a room, and when he left it. It was almost instinctive now, and she had stopped questioning it.
And when she had realized that he was still not back after a half hours' absence, she had quickly excused herself on the pretext of using the washroom and hurried up these stairs, intent on bringing him back.
That was all there was to it, she stubbornly told her wayward heart.
But as she walked further down the corridor towards the sliver of light spilling from the half-open door, she realized that there was a reason for her to feel this nervous excitement.
Throughout the evening, she had felt his eyes on her, and combined with the events of the past few days, she had realized that tonight was special, for an unknown reason.
He hadn't invited her tonight out of politeness, or protocol alone.
There was something else at play here, she was sure of it.
His eyes had told her so.
And that knowledge made her heart race faster, even as her steps followed suit.
She was almost at the door now, her palms sweating with a strange mixture of apprehension and anticipation.
She was within touching distance of the door when she suddenly stumbled over something, and she managed to stop herself from falling only by holding on to the edge of the door itself.
As she righted herself, her eyes automatically went to the object below her feet.
Her heart, which had been racing like a runaway train, now stilled completely.
Even in the dim light, she could clearly see what the object was.
A white bandhgala jacket.
His jacket.
One that had graced his broad shoulders only moments before.
There could be no doubt that it was his, because she had recognized the distinctive Lucknowi chikankaari work along the collar immediately.
Confused, she bent slightly and picked it up, then straightened to find that her other hand still clutched at the half-open door like a lifeline.
She loosened her grip, the pushed the door open a little and started walking inside before suddenly realizing that she should have knocked before entering.
The incident with the jacket had muddled her mind, there could be no other explanation for this lapse.
She took a step back and knocked on the carved wood, then waited for a moment before trying again.
But there was no response.
She really didn't know what she was supposed to do now.
If she went down without him, it wouldn't be too long before the inevitable questions started, and how long could she evade those?
And so she took a deep breath, and entered the room.
She found herself in a beautifully decorated sitting-room, the antique furniture and rich fabrics proclaiming the wealth of the owner in a subtle, yet effective manner.
He wasn't there, though.
As her eyes traveled around the room, she noticed another door set along one wall.
This one was ajar too, and she walked towards it immediately, her heels sinking in the plush fabric of the Persian carpet below.
But she stopped well before she reached the door, her gaze snared by a slash of silver on the deep red carpet.
She didn't even need to pick it up to realize what it was.
A woman's designer, barely-there blouse.
And not just any woman's.
Sheetal's.
Her mind reeled away from the obvious conclusion, and nausea threatened to overwhelm her.
She took a deep breath, and knew she had to get away.
Right now, before she could...
But it was already too late.
Unbidden, her eyes had already gone to the half-open door.
And when she saw the sight within, she froze.
Because he was there.
And he wasn't alone.
He was standing by his bed, locked in a passionate embrace with that woman.
Bile rose in her throat as she registered the fact that both were naked from the waist up, and Sheetal's arms were around him, even as her moans filled the room.
She stumbled back, his jacket dropping from her hands as her mind struggled to accept the evidence before her.
And in that moment, she knew.
She had been lying to herself earlier.
This wasn't just about chances, or new beginnings.
She was in this much, much deeper than she had imagined.
Why else would this sight hurt so much?
Why else did she feel mortally wounded, even when there was no blood?
She must have made some noise in her distressed state,because he suddenly looked up.
Straight at her.
And as she met his eyes, she saw something that she had never wanted to see again.
Something that had almost destroyed her once before.
Unable to bear this for even one more moment, she turned to flee the room.
And in her haste, she stumbled against a crystal vase that rested on a pedestal.
She watched in horror as the antique fell to the floor.
Until it finally lay there, broken into countless pieces.
Shattered, just like her fragile dreams.
******************
A/N:
A clarification: In Chapter One, the story begins one month before the events depicted in this prologue.
Despite what the Prologue may suggest, this isn't a dark/sad/tragic story, just wanted to let you know that up-front!
Do let me know what you think, your feedback is extremely important to me.
About PMs: For this story, I will only be sending out PMs once every week, even though I intend to update twice weekly.
You can follow me on Twitter @Patronus31 for update alerts.
All new readers, please add me to your buddy list for PMs of updates.
Your reaction
Nice
Awesome
Loved
LOL
OMG
Cry
256 Comments