Aradhya ||Indian historical fiction||

08| IN THE FACE OF THE CHANCE.

The normal charm of the kingdom of Shiladhika was somewhat lessened. It seemed faint as grey clouds spotted the sky. It dropped a couple of drops of rain but seized to drench the golden kingdom in itself. The kingdom seemed unhappy, still mourning over the death of their heir and still felt safe after knowing that Ashokdhar would be their ally. Mere specs of joy were in the kingdom.

Vihaan sat at the wedding pyre, ready for the wedding. The platform was decorated luxuriously. Though Aagneya planned out the scene for Aradhya and Amar, Vihaan sat in the groom's place with more charm than Amar.

The air in the hall was tense. Everyone, not wholeheartedly, waited for the wedding. Ministers and the officials stayed put. Maharani Chaya and Tamasvini were nowhere to be found. Aadrika stood behind Aagneya holding Abhik in her hands.

At the end of the hall, Rihit riddled with his hands. He knew Aradhya was up to something. He knew Aradhya would do something because the flare he saw in her eyes reminded him of someone. Someone so very close to him.

The rites had begun. The fire of the havan shined bright. It reflected off of Vihaan's face like a soft glow. His cedar eyes shone out. His sharp features and his bright tilak stood out. Dressed in red and gold, he looked as regal as always.

Vihaan's mind ran around the thought of Aradhya. He now wasn't sure if the marriage was beneficial, necessary or others. All he thought was that he didn't want Aradhya to wed Amar.
. . . .

The entire aura of the room seemed bland. The garland strung around Krishna was not enough to dim down the gloom. Aradhya sat readying herself. Bahiravi wasn't to be found and Aradhya hated that. Aradhya was too occupied with the thoughts of Vikram and she didn't need any other bad news to fuel her sorrow.

Aradhya looked stunning in a blood-red sari. A deep red cloth embroidered deliciously with golden thread. Adorned with jewellery given to her by her father which was the most opulent thing she ever had on. Her hands were already brown. Not from the henna but the burn she endured to not let the henna show.

Aradhya had a lot of difficulties helping herself. With burnt hands.

"I can help you if you want." A bright voice pulled in. Aradhya shot a look at the door and found a woman in her teens. A princess.

"Who are you?" Aradhya pressed.
"I'm Nandini. Vihaan's sister." Nandini came in and as the ball of energy that she was, she hurried Aradhya to her dresser. She sat her down and started getting her ready.

"Why are you doing this? You are a princess."
"So are you."

Nandini was way too keen on making brides ready for her brother for she was the one who voluntarily got Sadhana ready for Vihaan. Aradhya was a bit nervous. She looked around the room. Nandini braided her hair and while she did that she went on speaking about things. Unrelated, Unhelpful things made Aradhya comfortable that someone spoke to her without minding that she was not a complete princess.

Nandini stopped midway through the process and gasped, "Wait, the brooch" she ran out the door looking for something. Aradhya moved quickly.

She looked around her room trying to find something. Trying to get her hands on her trusty companion. She spotted it on her bookshelf. Hidden along the rows and rows of books. Two shining blades with red grips. Daggers forged with utmost precision. The daggers were forged by her and Vikram together.

She rushed over to it and as she did she felt Nandini return. She had to hurry. She could not let her catch her. She couldn't let her plan fall. She grabbed the daggers.

"What are you doing over there?" Nandini's intrigued voice pulled through. Aradhya turned around coyly and smiled at Nandini. She shook her head and sighed before getting back and sitting on the dresser seat.

"Just some books that intrigue me." She said.

Nandini stood behind Aradhya and clasped her by her shoulders.

"You can bring your entire library to Ashokdhar. No one is stopping you." She smiled and Aradhya nodded. Nandini pulled out a small ornament from her veil. It wasn't a very grand one. It was a wooden hair ornament. It was amatuerly carved and was not very regal.

"Vihaan made this. He made it for Sadhana when they were getting married. Sadhana sent me to give this to you."

Aradhya sat still as she heard her words. She started contemplating her decisions. As Nandini clipped the ornament onto Aradhya thick black hair, Aradhya wondered, "if I kill Vihaan, what of his wife?"
. . . .

The trinkets jingled as Aradhya walked. Her anklets resounded through the hallway to the wedding pyre. She felt her heart sinking deeper with every step she took. She wanted to just slay Vihaan and be where she has been forever. She didn't even want to have a happy married life now. With anyone.

Nandini accompanied Aradhya to the pyre. The somewhat evil smirk on her face. Well, evil enough to mock her brother at his marriage.

Vihaan sat sternly at the altar. And as his eyes fell on Aradhya walking down the stairs his mind stopped working for a second. He took in her form. Weak but trying to look confident. Broken but wanting to seem strong. And apart from her mental state which he first noticed, her physical state was nothing like her mental state.

Complexly embroidered blood-red sari. Golden threads sitting ever so beautifully on it. Aradhya looked like a princess ready to wed more than she ever did. Her kohl-stained eyes were so much intriguing to him now.

Vihaan shook his head of his thoughts and looked away as Aradhya sat by his side. He cast a slight side look to her hands. Which still looked brown. Without the henna. He was sure it burned.

Aradhya felt nothing but disgust sitting beside him. It was mainly for the fact that his gaze was so much comforting to her. So much filled with a sense of care. She hated that. She hated herself for feeling the way she did for Vihaan.

And with that, with the same feeling going through her. The feeling of disgust, and the feeling of sympathy going through Vihaan, time passed. Time went on so quickly that not either one of them realised that they had already done all the rituals of the wedding.

Aradhya's sense came back when she felt the cold beads of the mangalsutra brush her neck. She looked up a bit finding Vihaan right before her face. Their faces were inches apart with his hands fastening the chain behind her neck. That was when her eyes filled with tears. She let her tears fall so freely.

Though Vihaan wanted nothing to do with her. Though he only married her on his Guru's assertion. Though he thought he wanted to have nothing to do with her, he somewhere was a bit disturbed whenever he saw Aradhya weep. Maybe because it was very identical to his mother's cry.
. . . .

The ceremony was complete. Aradya had only been stable by the end of the rituals so she couldn't care less about whatever happened before. She stood there, eyes, tear-stained, body feeling weak from not eating for three days, the parting in her hair filled with saffron dust, rings on her second toes and a loose marital symbol at her neck.

The whole crowd watched. The entire throng of ministers. Aagneya almost had wept to see the imagery. Aadrika was unsure and...who else was to care?

"We will be heading back to Ashokdhar, now." Vihaan declared. Aradhya stood by him. She noticed Rihit on guard. She noticed the sharpness in his eyes. She wondered why so.

Everyone was watching. The timing was rather perfect.

Aradhya pulled out the dagger from her waistband and lunged at Vihaan. The whole crowd gasped.

But Aradhya's attack fell weak. She saw Sadhana watching over the scene with fright in her eyes. The Aradhya she claimed to have buried behind her changing form, took over. She couldn't do it. She couldn't have a woman become a widow just for her revenge.

Rihit with the warrior that he was, almost instantly caught her attack leaving Vihaan in shock.

A pang rose in Aradhya's throat.

She had failed. She failed at the chance she had to avenge Vikram.

And that burned her soul from within.

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