Arhi SS: Fighting Dragons |Epilogue-Pg 42, Thank You Pg 43 (17/3)| - Page 7

Khushi sighed as she finished washing up the dishes from lunch. The ship had docked again, and everyone was off on land. She glanced wistfully out of the tiny kitchen window, looking at the bustling docks outside. It had been so long since she had stepped out.

Her hands slowed, moving in gentle circles over the plate. She closed her eyes tightly, willing the memories to go away. She had only been twelve at the time, but the memories were vividly imprinted into her brain, plaguing her with nightmares.

"Mirchi, shh... Come with me. And don't make a sound." Wide, hazel eyes stared into the kindly face of her cousin.

"NK Bhaiyya!"

"Khushi, we have to be really quiet, okay? No one can know we're here."

"Wait! Let me just get Payal, Amma, and Bauji!" NK's face darkened at her words. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her close to him.

"Khush, we can't do that, okay? They'll... come later." With that, he pulled her away through the dark, underground corridors. Khushi followed silently and unquestioningly. Something in his tone had alerted her to the fact that something was very, very wrong.

Khushi took in a deep breath. It seemed like just yesterday that she had run with NK, never questioning him. She became Khushi NK Singhania, and never mentioned her royal heritage again.

She found out later that her parents were gone, and that Payal was nowhere to be found. She assumed the worst for her older sister. Khushi walked to her room, looking for the familiar, worn out picture of her once happy family.

The payals on her feet jingled as she walked. Khushi blinked back tears, biting down on her lip hard to keep them from coming. She wouldn't cry. She knew Shyaam had killed them, taking over the kingdoms of both the Maliks and the Guptas. NK had told her later that Shyaam had killed Rani and Raja Malik, and that Arnav, Anju Didi, and Aakash had mysteriously disappeared.

Khushi felt her heart clench at the thought of Anju Didi. Didi was her protector and mentor. Where Payal was quiet and soft spoken, Anjali and Khushi bonded over their mutual talkativeness. Despite the rather large age difference, the two of them had taken to each other. Anjali protected her from the wrath of her parents whenever Khushi pulled some prank. Payal would often shake her head, saying that she should have been Anjali's sister instead of her own, seeing as the two were so similar.

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"Sir, you have more designs for us?" Arnav handed over a thick packet of drawings. It was Durga puja time, and Arnav always docked in Calcutta around this time. They were expecting him. He was known in Calcutta as the mysterious man who showed up once a year to drop off designs to the fashion houses.

Unbeknownst to his crew, Arnav was also a designer of clothing. He did not have his own clothing line, but every time he docked, he'd drop off designs at various fashion houses, only going by his initials. He was well known in the fashion industry for his beautiful, unique works. It was the only way he could get money to finance the ship, besides pirating, and pirating was nowhere near as steady as designing.

Since he was a little boy, Arnav had been fascinated by clothes. He always dressed impeccably, even as a teenager. His sister always ribbed him for being more feminine than she was, caring so much about his clothes. Arnav never thought he would be able to actually design clothes for a living, seeing as he was once the crown prince. But situations changed, and despite the terrible twists of fate, Arnav was glad that something had worked out for him.

Arnav pointed at various saris. His commanding tone had every worker in the shop scurrying to meet his demands. He'd then stick around and buy thousands of rupees worth of goods from the various vendors.

It was his favorite time of the year. Durga Ma was his sister's favorite goddess, and now, he realized, his wife's as well. He had often caught her praying to Devi Maiyya, religiously doing puja to the rather tattered statue in her room. It was clearly a statue dear to her, and she kept it with the utmost care and dedication.

Arnav finished picking up some new saris for his sister. He had noted that her saris were getting older, and wanted to surprise her with some new ones. She would love them, he knew. She always did. Many of them were his own designs.

As Arnav turned to leave, his eyes fell on a beautiful off-white sari with a thick red border. Embroidery on the border was elaborately done in fine gold threads, and it was clearly of high quality. The vibrant red sari that accompanied it had the same gold embroidery, with a deeply cut back and front. It was the traditional Durga puja sari, but there was something different about it. Something special.

Immediately, Arnav pictured his wife's dainty frame encased in the simple sari. It was just her style. Not too fancy, but not boring either. The red would complement her gentle skin tone, and besides, he loved a woman in red anyway.

Arnav's brain was berating him for even thinking of buying a sari for her. You're supposed to be staying away from her. Avoiding attachment, remember? His heart had other ideas. She doesn't seem to have any saris. She's always wearing those damned anarkali suits with those stupid pom pons and that endless length of bangles. Bangles... I'll want to buy bangles to complement this. For once, Arnav ignored his brain and went with his heart.

"I'll take that one as well. And... those red bangles. Yes, the ones in gold with the red gems. Thank you." Arnav swiftly bagged the items in separately from that of his sister's, and walked away. His heart felt considerably lighter.

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"He just walked out holding two bags. Usually, he only has one."

"What? Why does he have two bags?"

"Sir, he also has a wedding ring on his finger. He seems happy. I don't know why."

"I haven't hired you to just sit around. You're supposed to be keeping an eye on him, and you didn't even know that he got married. I hope you know what will happen to your family if you continue to be so... disobedient."

"Sir, he only comes once a year. You cannot possibly expec-"

"Oh, but I can. I am the King, aren't I? You're simply incompetent. Next time, I will not be so forgiving. Keep that in mind."

"Sir, I'm sorr-"

All that he heard was the dialtone.

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Khushi stepped into the bathroom, her eyes red and slightly swollen from crying. She winced as she saw herself in the mirror. She looked terrible. She quickly grabbed her kohl, underlining her eyes in a way that took away from the symptoms of a girl who had been sobbing. She winced as she closed her eyes as the prickly, uncomfortable sensation of the salt of the tears overwhelmed her.

As she stepped out, she heard an odd squeak coming from the bottom most level of the ship. She sucked in a nervous breath. Arnav had warned her not to go down there. Her curiosity was unbearable, but she did not want to anger her husband anymore than he already was.

"Khushi?" A soft voice called out her name. Khushi froze, her hands whitening on the handle of her door. Her breathing grew shallow, a testament to the fear that ran through her veins.

"Rajkumari Khushi Kumari Gupta? You won't answer me?" Her eyes widened in shock. No one knew that name. Or rather, no one should have known. Panic overtook her as she stood there, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. Had she been compromised?

"Khushi, ab mujshe baat bhi nahi karogi? You don't recognize me? It's me!" Khushi spun around, the shock in her eyes changing into joyous sorrow as she gazed at the person in front of her. Tears quickly filled her eyes. Crap. I guess I didn't need that kohl... It's running now anyway.

Chapter 6