Warrior Hearts

Unstoppable

Arjun's POV

In an attempt to ignore the heads that are turning in my direction, I keep my gaze trained straight ahead. Although this is my home, this is the first time in all the years that I have lived here that I am garnering this much attention from the servants in the hallways, and whosoever else I may pass. 

"Rohit!" I call out, quickening my pace in his direction as I approach him. "Have you seen Princess?" Laying a hand on Rohit's shoulder, I desperately search his face for the barest hint of an affirmative answer.

"If I'm not mistaken, she should be on the terrace," Rohit says. 

"Great," I exclaim, heading past him without a second's delay. I've been disturbed all day with the knowledge that Arohi is upset with me and now that I've returned, I refuse to delay seeking her out for another second. 

"Arjun?" Rohit calls out from behind me. Without missing a beat, I swivel around, my feet carrying me backwards towards my destination. "Nice coat," he comments, his quizzical gaze pinned on the clothing in question. 

"Thank you." I say, turning right back around and breaking into a jog towards the terrace. Sure enough, Arohi is seated out here, a brown leather bound novel propped open in front of her face. Bringing my steps to a lazy stroll - the polar opposite of the speed with which I came bounding here - I tug at the lapels of my coat, straightening it. Clearing my throat, I take a tentative step in Arohi's direction. 

"I've returned," I announce, folding my hands behind my back. Peeking out at me from behind her novel, Arohi nods her head in acknowledgement at my presence, before diverting her gaze back to the words in front of her. Frowning, I stare at the back of the novel, unsure of what to do next. However, as I'm about to make a second attempt at having a one-sided conversation with myself, Arohi does a double-take, her head jerking to the side from behind the novel once again. This time, she allows her gaze to travel down the length of my body. On their downward descent, I'm pleased to notice the momentary widening of her surprise-filled eyes. It's quite obvious that Arohi was not expecting the sight that I have just offered her with. A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips as her gaze sweeps upwards this time; an expression that I mirror with utter satisfaction. 

"I'm not wearing this because you chose it." I say, wiping the smile off my face before Arohi can catch sight of it. "So don't get too happy," I warn her. "I just liked the colour." In an attempt to showcase my utter nonchalance, I shrug my shoulder. Biting down on her bottom lip, Arohi watches me with unashamed amusement sparkling in her eyes, her eyebrows drawn upwards; a silent expression that is meant to call me out on my bluff.

The truth of the matter as she and I, both, are well aware of, is that I am wearing the coat she chose for me, complemented by the brooch she handpicked because she selected them. It's as simple as that; there's no two ways about it. Although I had made up my mind to opt for the safer choice that Anusha had put together for me, I couldn't go through with that decision of mine. Adopting a will of their own, my feet made me turn around and head right back to my chambers just so that I could change into the coat that Arohi chose, and pin the brooch she'd laid out for me onto it. Something about abiding by her wishes felt right, regardless of the doubt that had crept its way into my mind. 

"Did anyone notice the change?" Arohi asks, drawing my attention back to the smug expression she's adorning. "Or do people prefer to witness you in the same old, dreary colours of a grumpy old man?" Narrowing my eyes at my wife, I lift my chin up ever so slightly in an outward show of arrogance.

"You'd be disappointed to hear this, but yes, I did, indeed, collect a bunch of compliments." I say, raising a challenging brow at Arohi. "Especially from the women, if I do recall the day's events correctly." At once, my words have their desired effect, evaporating the smugness from Arohi's face, only to be replaced by a look of sheer annoyance. Knitting her brows together, she glares at me like a warrior out for cold murder.