The Vicious Love Of Royals (Politically Royal Love Collection Novella BOOK)

TVD - 03

SAMAIRA

The “It's not like you guys are engaged or married yet.” I heard my mother sitting on a plush chair in the middle of the library say meanwhile I skimmed through the sarees stretched on the huge centre table of my mother's especially formed boutique room.

The karigar sitting across, waiting for a pick from either my mother or me. I wear a modern saree, but my mother likes handstitched instead, the one wish she has asked in this marriage is for me to dress according to her.
It makes me wonder when was it. Have I ever dressed for what I truly wanted to?

Even the slant of a twig of hair around my face is styled by her picked maidens.

Her words made me hold the saree tightly in my grasp.
A simple question lingers on my lips to break through the distress of my animosity towards the deform I found Jasvanthya in the last time I witnessed in his party.

I had struggled to show bare emotions on my unbare face, meanwhile, he had stood across from me, I tacked Ekvarthya's hand and without hesitation, he strolled me swaying from Jasvanthya.

That was the end of, all I ever bestowed that man with my sight, to meet. And left the party.

My mother's constant attempt to dress me according to her fancy, to conduct her system of operating with a cheating man wasn't an uncommon occurrence.

Witnessed the more absurd, things being accepted by my mother. I have come to terms with the most outrageous things that influence me.
I reacted frivolity to her words.

Jasvanthya and I have an engagement next week, and undoubtedly I don't have the prospect of denying this marriage. Despite running into my fiancé with another woman.

I sat quietly and listened to her rattle.
The door opened suddenly, and my father walked inside angrily, his hand on his waist and shaking with rage. He asked my mother to walk toward him with his two fingers.
Dismissing the karigar from the chair, the servant shut the door behind him.

“What did you share with the Trivedi's wife?” He asked my mother, his words rang loudly in the room, while my mother timidly stood there with her head hung low.

She misspoke again, my mother is an exceptionally fine queen, and she speaks and moves with grace undoubtedly. But her tongue gets her way sometimes when she is fed gossip. People know that, and they have used it against her multiple times. One of the reasons why I feel there is a limited word requirement to speak the most connotation.

He slapped her next instant, her head turned the other way, and I jumped to my feet. He looked at me, angrily before he turned on his feet and walked out of the room again, opening the clacking door and dumping shoes voice.

When a woman thinks, the worst a man can do is cheat. And abuse you? They show up a new tactic, by simultaneously doing so. Mrs. Trivedi is my dad's uncalled-for mistress.

And what possibility could have my mom spoken?
“I told her, lately he hasn't been coming home during the night, and the servants are holding notice of it,” My mother explained to me.

Ashamed, I was not to my father for doing these deeds. You can't bring a man deeper into a pit when he exists in a black hole for you. But with my father? She astounds me every time she stoops lower.

Though that hallmarked me, I am the same for what my mother despises.
Forgiving a man who disrespected me throughout the party, and then stumbling upon his mistress.

*****

JASVANTHYA

“And you didn't feel the need to explain to her? What were you thinking Jasvanthya?”