Aradhya ||Indian historical fiction||

27| AREN'T HIS QUEEN ANYMORE (continuation)

~17 years later~

Somehow with age, everyone turned beautiful in the outcast -unofficial- village. Aradhya's wound had healed but had left a predominant mark. Aradhya's features were more sharp and precise. She had grown into a beautiful woman contrasting her teens.

The village, however, was surprising. If someone had to stumble across, they had enough sources and money to provide. They were almost as able as the king himself. They could very well lead their own country, but Aradhya never let anyone forget their roots. The roots that are always gained from Ashokdhar.

Aradhya and Gaurang were the same as they were. They loved each other. Not romantically and yet beautifully. The bond they shared was something that everyone in their circle admired. Pure and unconditional. They were soulmates. Like how Vihaan and Sadhana were but better. Gaurang had also aged backwards.

The straw houses were replaced by strong brick ones. The lumber was of the best quality. Water fills were always replenished and even strong additional houses were built for anyone who stumbled by and sought help. Farmers were doing good and the medicine retailing was successfully being carried out. The women had now become independent and had nothing to ask from their men. They had mobilized their savings.

And as for the children...they had become the army of the village. Trained by Aradhya, they all had become exceptionally good in battle and swordplay. They never feared a battle and nor were they afraid to take the leap. Every child had Aradhya's spirit of fight in them and that enabled them to guard their place.

Though all this, everyone there was satisfied with Aradhya's direction. There were moments when their trades went down and some doubted her, but Aradhya never let anyone get disappointed.

Aradhya crouched down before the pot where the meal was being made. She blankly made the dish. She had too much on her mind. She had to take care of the finances and the people. And among that, she had to be a mother.

"Chavi!" Aradhya called. She raised her brow as Chavi walked in with a tight frown on her face.

She had a small frame, almost similar to Aradhya's. She had black scuffled hair which always was wavy. Her eyes -which almost seemed like they were of Vihaan's- were filled with rage.

"What is up with the knot on your face? It's a fine day outside." Aradhya served the food to her as Chavi sat down.

"There has been a lot of buzz about your husband, Ma." Chavi nonchalantly ate from what was before her. Aradhya froze for a second. She looked at Chavi who seemed nothing but offended and angry.

"You should stop, Chavi-"

"Do you know what they were saying? 'All hail the Samrath Chakravarthy Maharaj Vihaan of Ashokdhar'. If he had shown that interest in finding you, he would have found you years ago."

"How long, how long is this going to continue? You cannot just keep hating him like this. What good is your hate going to do?"

"I don't care, Ma. He left you to die in the wild. He didn't even try to look for you. He made you lose your child. He made you live sleepless nights without food when you first started out leading these people. Do you want me to go on?"

Chavi stood up abruptly and walked out of the door where she came across Gaurang about to come in. She nodded at him and continued on her way. Aradhya sighed. She knew she had gone wrong only there. She had gone wrong in telling Chavi not to only think about her mother but everyone.

Gaurang sat down beside Aradhya and cleared his throat.

"The same old rant?"

"Yes. I don't even know if I should feel good to know that she defends me or bad to know that she hates Vihaan."