Looking at the young couple, Vasundhara beamed. She wanted to check if Gauri ate but watching her son indulging the beautiful girl, her heart came at peace. The way Gauri smiled at Yagya and Yagya stole glances full of deification, Vasundhara sensed the brewing chemistry. Perfection paled in comparison to that sweet moment. So, passing them a last glance, Vasundhara retreated.

At least Gauri wouldn't suffer the way she did. The poor girl will successfully earn the love and respect she deserves from the guarded King.

Years ago, on the same night, when Vasundhara was a young bride, full of life and excitement, shy and meek, she waited the entire night for Raghuveer's arrival on the stairs of Chitrakoot Palace. There was no one to tell her that it was not needed because he doesn't like her. She remembers sleeping on the stairs and waking up to the grumbling of an engine. Her husband had stumbled out of his car in the early hours of the morning in a drunken frenzy. Her soul almost left her body noting that he drove himself home when he could barely stand straight.

Tears flooded Vasundhara's eyes.

He had slurred how ugly she was and how much he hated her. He called her names, loud enough to wake every sleeping being in the fort, and then walked past her as if she was a pest beneath his boot. Her father-in-law had soothed her the next morning when she couldn't stop crying and scolded his son. All she wanted was an apology to forget the scene and move on, but it never came. Still, she consoled her heart and pretended like nothing happened. Things such as this always made her jealous of Garima, the late sister-in-law who was loved dearly by Aaryan.

In childhood, she had dreamt of marrying a prince and living in a grand palace. In her teen years, when she was out of school, she wished to be matched with the most handsome man. And all those dreams seemed to come true when the proposal from Ranas came. She was on the moon, unbeknownst that the happiness, freedom, and tranquility experienced in her father's home were about to get thwarted in Royal Paradise.

Now after 26 years of marriage, she can barely recognize herself. A shadow of what she used to be. It wasn't the grey hair or wrinkles that disturbed her but the emptiness and hopelessness plaguing her every waking hour. The lips which once used to remain stretched into a goofy grin, barely smiled. If you look closely, the corners have turned downward. The days of loneliness and struggle stole all her light. 26 years of unhappy marriage standing on the shoulders of a woman who has lost all her loved ones mysteriously, has now become a rope around her neck. It tightens every day, suffocating her, reminding her of the responsibilities and problems surrounding the fortress where she is still waiting to be embraced and accepted by one man who will never love her.

Still, she does the chores, sometimes with devotion and other times as formality to maintain an image in the eyes of onlookers who will never understand her pain. Leaving the palace, she marches towards the infirmary where the man responsible for her sadness rests. Nodding at the nursing employees, Vasundhara enters the private room where Raghuveer was hooked to medicines and glucose. She slowly brings the blanket to his chin as he sleeps peacefully and then settled on a chair beside his bed.

It was a comfortable one with soft cushions and an adjustable back.

Her eyes traced his features, and she smiled noting the regality he passed to his progeny. Yagya was his father's spitting image. Except for the roguish look- long hair and thick beard, he donned everything like his father. Sometimes, the way he talks, walks, or even gets mad reminds her of her husband who ran a business worth million on an iron fist.

Now his son was carrying his legacy. A son whom he loved dearly.

Her fingers fiddled with a locket her father-in-law gave her after she recovered from a strange sickness. He had made her promise to never part with it and she kept it for so many years out of sentiments. The old man was very protective and probably loved her more than her father.

"It is good he died early or would have died every day by watching your condition, Raghuveer. I am eagerly waiting for the day when you can talk to me and call my name. That would be more than enough. I will feel like I have crossed space and time to burn into an eternity of your affection. All these years, only one question troubled me the most, why do you hate me so much? What was my fault that you punished me by crushing my heart repeatedly?"

Vasundhara whispered as she caressed his soft cheeks with her knuckles. Her wounded heart hopelessly waiting for an answer which will never come. And in the end, she was left alone to go through this again- The Wait.

Three days passed since the festival and a lonely Gauri found herself snuggled deeper under the covers after finishing her morning routine and looking after Raghuveer. Her mother-in-law was adamant to leave his side but Gauri convinced her to take a shut-eye. Now the old king remains alone, under the care of experts and her husband was too busy wrapping up with meetings and the same foreign clients.

The temperature was dropping by each day, alerting everybody about the approaching winter.

Gauri sighed as she turns the pages of her grandfather's-in-law journal. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, couldn't keep it away for longer. It has left her both curious and unsettled so far. The old man seemed infatuated with this Mandakini character and was describing her life incidents in great detail. Gauri was already feeling sympathy for the woman who was Raghuveer's first love. She wondered where that traumatized soul must be now. Probably somewhere safe.

"When the rumors of my eldest eloping with Mandakini- wife of Surya Narayan spread like fire, I wasn't particularly pleased. Being disappointed was one thing and humiliating another. The shame that news brought to the household was unendurable. Everywhere I went, I could hear them whispering, throwing allegations on my blood. I wanted to choke my son and dump him into the holy Ganges until the ghost of Mandakini washed off him. He stopped picking our calls and refused to come back home.

It was like, that serpent of a woman had him wrapped around her fingers, making him a puppet ready to destroy his future.

Had it been some other woman, even of a different caste or religion, I would've considered it, but she was still the woman of another man and will be called so forever. Her image as a gold digger is portrayed so well in the eyes of the society that it is physically impossible to see what Raghuveer saw in her. Her presence alone brought distance between my son and me.

I will never accept that woman as a family member for she disrupted the peace and pride we Ranas held for years.

When we failed to make any contact with Raghuveer, I presented my worries to Aaryan, my reliable youngest and he immediately decided to go test the waters himself. In the dark of night, Aaryan left for Chennai and promised to return with his brother. I was worried if Raghuveer will pay heed to Aaryan's plead or stay tangled in that cursed woman's pitiful web.

By the evening, a call came from the local PCO from Chennai, explaining how Aaryan has managed to convince Raghuveer to come back home. I took a relieved breath and wished him luck. Finishing our short conversation, I called my most trusted man- Karan Singh, the butler. Explaining the scenario, I sent him to the city to fetch me the desired items that will be used to deal with the upcoming situation if things go south.

The dutiful and loyal servant didn't ask a question and left to bid his master's will.

Since childhood, I never waited for anyone, but you do unimaginable things for your children. I kept pacing the floors of Rajwada Palace, the residence of the King, all night. When the light of early morning broke, only then I yawned and welcomed the much-needed exhaustion. The troubles numbed and turned into curiosity about that enigmatic female who'd captured the heart of the ruthless Prince of Rana Province. I never vouched for Raghuveer becoming a man for one woman this early in life. He was only 26. Imagine my shock at him transcending into this gentleman when he never cared for someone of the opposite gender and discarded them like worn clothes.

Either Mandakini was quite beautiful or had a silver tongue to bend any mindless beast on her will.

I was having lunch when heard a commotion breaking into the premises.

Garima, Aaryan's fiancée came running to me and informed me about the arrival of both my Princes.

Washing my hands, I jogged towards the entrance where a Rolls Royce just pulled over.

Garima descended the stairs and quickly launched herself into Aaryan's arms, who climbed out of the passenger seat. Aaryan kisses her forehead before eyeing the car with an encouraging look. Soon, the star of my eyes made his appearance, donning a business suit and sunglasses. He refused to meet my eyes. The moment he extended his hand for his partner for her to take it and climb out of the vehicle, I stopped breathing and waited for the mystery to unfold in slow motion.

A small and fair hand adorned with a diamond ring that once belonged to my wife, interwind with Raghuveer, and a female in her early twenties steps out gracefully. She was wearing a silk saree. Her emerald eyes drank in the surroundings before they fell on me. She gulped and the action alone made me snap out of the constant staring.

Frankly, I couldn't take my eyes off this strange creature. She was too beautiful for her own good. She was a little thing that barely reached Raghuveer's shoulder with heels on. Her frame emitted nervous vibes which boosted my authoritative ego. I didn't climb down the stairs to greet them, instead, my prodigal son curled his arm around her shoulder and guides her toward me. Closing the distance between us, she bows to touch my feet, and out of habit, I blessed her with good fortune.

'Dad, this is Mandakini, my fiancée.'

He didn't have to announce it. I collected that much by spotting the big rock on her finger, which I gifted Sandhya years ago and before her death, she passed it to her son. He did it with the sole reason of testing my patience, to see how will I react to this news. But he forgot I was his father and knew very well about maintaining appearances.

I nodded once before leaving for my study with a ton of thoughts bombarding my skull at once.

'Dad,' Aaryan called, stopping me midstride and I turned to face him.

'She is a good person.' He whispered making my jaw clench. I bloody knew that. I saw the fading bruises on her jaw and neck. She was thrashed badly and was a standing victim of an abusive relationship with her ex-husband. What shocked me was the innocence in her eyes despite going through heartbreaking incidents and so much trauma. There was still light and hope in them. Hope of being accepted as a part of this family.

But still, I failed to abide by this union. My heart exclaimed- she was bad news!

A woman who will break my family.

'Dad,' Aaryan called once again when got no reaction from me.

'I know. Make them stay at Chandra Mahal. The maids have prepared a room for her there and later, tell Raghuveer that I want to see him in my study. How long is he going to pretend that I am nobody? I am his bloody father and hold the authority to have a say in every decision he makes pertaining to his life.'

Aaryan nodded in understanding and left to do so. But I had already lost my peace. Her face, I couldn't wipe it away. The grace with which she carried herself reminded me of a broken ballerina taking her last twirl with quivering lips, knowing she is about to collapse and would never dance again.

I knew an argument was waiting for me because my foolish son thought it was easy to spend life with broken goods. She will never love him; her insecurities won't let her. A negative aura was vibrating around her, exposing her fighting the consequences after a long war of trauma. She was depressed. What parents would want their children to deal with such people?

Nobody was more eager than me to watch both my sons settle with the best life partners.

I didn't wish for my son, who was going to sit on a throne one day, to fall for a broken girl. He will keep competing with her demons and sickness to win her affection all his life. The wound she carried on her chest was skin deep. Her heart was scarred. She was used and discarded, again and again until she started to believe that this was her worth.

I wouldn't let that happen. I wouldn't stop until my boy realizes where his happiness lies. With Mandakini by his side, he will never be happy and always struggle to see the bright side."