Kama: Liberation (Vol-I)

Chapter 46: A Crack in Marriage

Perfection is illusionary.

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It was getting colder every passing moment, and yet Aryamna was not returning.

Ishvara was asked to sleep, but peace did not come to her eyes. Not after she set foot on Revat. This place got on her nerves. The amount of injustice she had seen while coming to the palace proved it right. The fact that this place was connected to her past, maybe even was a possible home, made it even more disgusting. She winced and shivered, clutching the bedsheets in vexation.

But she had to be strong.

"Ashes don't burn a second time."

She paced across the room. He had left abruptly when a man came and informed him of something unsettling. Aryamna had strictly instructed her to not unlock the door unless a man came and tapped four consecutive times and then addressed her as 'Devi'. Only then was she supposed to open the door.

He didn't even allow her to be at dinner. Her food was sent to the room, and all day since arrival she was stuck here. She didn't expect any other corner of the palace to be more comfortable and appealing, but to be caged in one room was annoying.

And then there was this insatiable desire to know what was once, what constituted the truth. If this place instilled fear in her, then she had to get to the root of it.

She was the wife of a Senapati, after all. If she considered her returning memories, she could have been a very haughty woman, if not courageous. She was a princess by birth and the lover of a Rajan, who now due to circumstances still unknown hid his real identity and name.

"Of course Aryam is trying to protect me because he knows Revat harmed me in the past." Ishvara rubbed her chin. "He is afraid."

It stirred up her anxiety to such an overwhelming pitch that she decided to unlock the door and venture outside.

A gust of wind brushed her face. The touch was so icy and cruel. The emptiness reeked of ghastly memories, flashing across her vision like a phantom. There were few guards and she walked where her eyes took her, tugging simply at her intuition. She saw the paintings of a man enjoying in a brothel, waging war and standing equal to god. She perceived it to be the Rajan of Revat, whom she had not yet seen.

Or have I? She wondered.

The guards didn't stop her from exploring the palace. They simply glanced at her surreptitiously. It didn't agitate her worries, or even if it did, her strength was mightier to ignore the words 'do not go there, Ishvara'. Coming to a halt in front of a staircase, she looked back to see no sign of a human. Where had the guards gone? It couldn't have been her imagining. She wasn't that sickly of mind. Her memories were returning and she was healing very well. Even though it required for her to go through old, unpleasant wounds.

The flight of stairs invited her. Stepping on one, it creaked and made a moaning sound. Ishvara was apprehensive of it cracking and making her crash. She took small, alert steps, looking back once every while. And then when she was done halfway, turning back didn't matter at all as the stairs behind her drowned in thick waves of darkness. The steps swirled and curved, stopping at the door of a room. Surprisingly, it was not bolted, although the cobwebs pointed at negligence.

With a deep breath, Ishvara went inside.

The air was heavy with the musty fragrance of time-forgotten splendour. Walls showcased peeling layers of faded paint, revealing the passage of time. Trunks spilled with tattered clothes, now nibbled on by mice. A bed, adorned with dirty silk, stood as a ghostly sentinel in the room, its posts weathered by years of solitude. Ishvara heaved a sigh. "No one took care of it in my absence."