Chapter 241

Chapter 322: The Thought of You
"Arnavji, do you know anyone by the name Chandraki?"
"No. But I do know someone named Kushi."
His predatory hands slid down her slender shoulders, pushing her robe down to reveal her pearl skin that shone temptingly in the bathing moonlight from the window.
Her hands fanned his chest, her palms grazing his manly nipples, as she leaned up to press her lips against his burning neck.
Immersed in her affectionate gesture, he exhaled drowsily, his breath prodding the strand of hair over her forehead to quiver.
In one seductive tug, he had pulled the robe off her and flung it to the dark floor.
Her fingers fumbled with the relentless buttons on his night pants. The bed creaked as he shifted to, more conveniently, undo his pants.
In the very next moment, his pants had joined her robe on the floor, and he was gathering her in a desirous embrace, their legs entangled under the sheets.
She ran her fingers through his hair, inviting the exploration of his luring lips along her irresistible skin.
As he drowned his craving in her affected gasps, his lips ravished her, his rough stubble grazing her tenderness.
With his hot tongue scorching her senseless, she guided his hands to touch her in places she wanted his insatiable mouth to find.
He buried his face between her breasts and felt her arch towards him.
Smiling against her skin, he chose the moment to slowly turn on his back, his strong arms wrapped around her waist bringing her to lie atop him.
Her long hair fell to the sides, curtaining them in fragrant darkness.
Their breaths mingled and their noses touched momentarily before his lips claimed hers.
In the rage of the passionate kiss that intoxicated them, as their hands continued fondling and caressing each other, she was driven to let out a befuddled moan on recognizing the hardness that he'd manifested in his desire.
His hands brushed down her back, sending quivers down her excited spine, and then in a swift topple he was above her, leaning her gently against the pack of pillows behind her.
Kissing her lips breathless, he lured her to entwine her legs around him.
She whimpered and her fingers dug into his shoulders as he moaned feebly against her ear.
He closed his eyes, engulfed in that overwhelming sensation of being inside of her.
In a gesture of surrender, he pressed his forehead to hers.
"Arnavji..." She whispered, her hands running down his back laced with sweat.
"Kushi..." he breathed as his lips found hers again, his tongue tasting a mingling of saliva and sweat.
Lord Arnav bit his lip.
He could still taste their last kiss.
As he stood there in that deplorable stone room, chained mercilessly to the wall, his mind was frequently thrown into the memory of that last night, every detail and every touch made so alive and anew in their mental recurrence. Memories of her that were his only solace...

The last time he had made love to her before the turn of the fateful morning when all hell broke loose.
Why had he fought with her? Why had he found cause to bitter their bond?
If only his last words to her had been of love, of how much she meant to him...
Disheartened, he leaned his head back to the wall and shut his eyes, trying to see her again.
Maybe if I thought of her ceaselessly, unrequitedly, she'll come back.
Like how, when we were enemies, I had desired for her so much that the Forces made way for us to be together frequently at unexpected circumstances and, ultimately, even making her my wife.
Instantly, he frowned.
Forces' made way? Did I just say that?
Damn you Kushi, he good-humouredly cursed the cause of his error, how you turn my world around!
He found to his surprise that he was smiling.
His heart weighed with unspeakable sadness at the realization that even in that deplorable state of abject helplessness, the thought of her had caused him to smile.

By the virtue of her name, she had unconsciously influenced him in ways he was yet to fathom.
I must find her.
He tried pulling at the metal chains that bound his limbs again, but the struggle only furthered his weariness. It seemed that the metal itself was bewitched...
Lord Arnav grimaced. He may be helpless but he was not without hope.
Kushi, he vowed, I will not stop trying until I can break free and find you again.
Arnavji...
Kushi sighed, trying to keep herself strong at heart by the thought of him.
She was certain he had come to know of her having gone.
He must have first flown into a rage first, she told her herself, and then had his heart broken.
Tears swam in her eyes at the thought of her husband's grief.
No matter how recklessly they fought and how many indictments they hurled, to be torn separate from each other would shatter their worlds.

She only prayed that he find her in time. And that the children be safe.
She sat up. Where were they? Why had they taken away from her and prisoned her in this separate room?
She didn't know who these men were. She had never before seen them in Arhasia. But then again, how much of Arhasia had she really seen?
But she knew one thing: They knew her. At least the longhaired man did. He was the Master of the bald man who had asked her in the market if she knew the name Chandraki.
And here she was, taken prisoner by the same people. They have imprisoned me because I am Chandraki. They are people of my past. People who may be acquaintances of my real family... She frowned. Or perchance my family's enemies.
She was unsure about which category they fell because of how they were treating her. It was not quite like how one would treat a prisoner.
They had kept her not in an empty cell but in a huge room that had been, by the obvious looks of it, the central dining hall of the ruined Fortress.
She didn't know if she was placed here because it was the only room standing in the whole of this demolished Castle. But it was highly impossible that a person locked up in such a massive room with plenty of furniture in the area was anything but a prisoner for ransom.
They had been quite courteous with her, as though they wanted to be on her good books. They didn't abstain from feeding her. They had never been forceful with her, never manhandled her, had even requested that she get into the carriage or else the children -
Kushi gritted her teeth. That cheat! He tricked me into believing he would let the children go! If I get my hands on him...
How could she have been a fool! She groaned. I should have fought back.
Then she corrected herself. No, I couldn't. What if they harmed the children?! Do you not remember how those dark garbed men suddenly appeared and fell upon poor OmPrakash?!
She worried for OmPrakash, the solitary defender of the stranded company. She prayed that he be alright.
Sitting where she was in the corner of the huge room that was her prison, she stared around and sighed.
All the windows had been barred shut with wooden planks, in precaution that their hostage find no means of escape. The wallpapers all around were faded and dusty, the gloomy designs on them merely an illusion of the beauty they once were.
There were huge slits in the wallpaper: signs that cupboards and cabinets, which had once been attached to the walls to house innumerable wine goblets and china cups, had been torn down and dismantled.
The only thing that remained of this once-glorious dining hall, whose banquets must have fed many warriors and princesses, was the massive dinner table in the centre of the room surrounded by 12 tall chairs.
Kushi's mind pictured the ghosts of the Greeks who sat there, laughing, singing and dinning, their wine goblets sparkling and their harps ringing.
But now the table and its chairs were shrouded in white webs of oblivion. Who remembered the faces that had sat here? Who cared whether they had pork for dinner or hunted venison?
They were all dead. Perished with the past. No one surviving to remember the songs they sang at the table or to recall the stories they shared of battles, adventures and love...
The bleakness that surrounded her threatened to stifle the hopes she clung onto with her dear sanity.

It is almost like living in one of Mr. Dickens' books. All that's missing is a decaying wedding cake and a clock that refused to move its hands from the cursed minute.
Glumly, Kushi sank her head to her knees, staring remorsefully at the vacant banquet before her. And to make matters even more upsetting, she was beginning to feel a fretful craving to make chocolate liquor.
Cheer up, Kushi, she tried to force herself to smile, we are not defeated yet. We will get out of this damned place! We only need to make a plan on how...
The sound of the key turning in the lock of the door alerted Kushi and she stood up, rising to meet whoever was entering.
It was the bald man, the servant of the Master, this time not wearing a suit but a dark robe.
He walked into the room, glancing not once in her direction, and slid onto the table the tray of meal he had brought for her.
She watched him turn and begin to depart when she called to him, "Where is your Master? I need to talk to him."
The bald man looked at her, annoyance glinting in his pudgy little eyes, "You will see him when he wishes to see you."
"How dare you!" Kushi stomped her foot, "I am the First Lady of this land and I will not be spoken to in this manner. Tell him to meet me at once or he will have to answer to the wrath of my husband which you have already stirred to a dangerous extent!"
The bald man only smirked at her proclamation, finding it fragile, and then, without a word, he left the room.
Kushi huffed, "What-!"
Frustration and anger rose in her fidgety heart and she sank back to the floor, mumbling under her breath.
A moment later, she caught herself by surprise and was thrown into laughter. How curious! She had spent so long with that lordly husband of hers that she had unintentionally inherited some of his temperance and arrogance.
She couldn't believe she had told off the man by the words she had used: I am the First Lady of the land and you daren't cross me?! Kushi laughed to herself and then turned sad. She was missing him even more now: Where are you, my impossible husband? Would you not find me...

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