Royal with Rebel (Royal #2: Book 2)

33

-• tied with a knot •-

What an abominable way to get married, at the abandoned altar, bereft of blessings, in the presence of a havan that's been burning all night, surrounded by the audience that is seemingly unconvinced of their union.

But would he call it a sham? Like he did sixteen years ago?

No.

Despite the evident lack of joy and delight a wedding usually takes place with, it cannot be any more real than it is. For it's happening with the consent of the bride and the groom, something that was patently amiss sixteen years ago. He couldn't care less who approves of their marriage, all he cares about is the agreements of their hearts, and for once in the last sixteen years, they are two voices one mind.

He had been a wrecking ball all night long, drowning in his own miseries, with liquor to keep him company. It rained and it stopped, the sky darkened and it cleared, the night fell and the sun rose, but he stayed in the same place she left him waiting at, hoping she'd return and she did. That's all that matters to him. Even if it seems pathetic.

Sara Rajawat is Yuvraaj Singh Chauhan's apex of ecstasy and his wingless flight to the rock bottom. She was his cataclysmic beginning and shall be his tragic stricken end. But unrivalled his love will remain, for there will be no other man in her life who'd ever be willing to make a sacrifice greater than his.

"Bhai," Yuvraaj looks at his brother's reflection in the mirror. Vivaan blanches visibly at the frigid attention, but doesn't mince his next words, worry evident in his tone, "Do you really think this is a right decision? You're getting married even after what she did? What if you regret it?"

"Who am I, Vivaan?"

Vivaan blinks. "Our brother?" He answers unsurely.

"I was sixteen years old when our mother died, do you remember?" Yuvraaj recalls, receiving a nod from his younger brother. "If I were to make a right decision then, I'd be pursuing music now, because that was right for me at that time. But I didn't. Are you telling me I must regret choosing you and our siblings over my passion?"

Vivaan's gaze drops to his shoes.

Fixing the cufflinks, Yuvraaj turns around, approaching his brother with a calm exterior. "I made that decision for my siblings and I don't regret it. But let me tell you, there are days when I resent it." Vivaan looks up at him, slightly hurt. "I made this decision for myself, so even if I regret it, at least I know I'll never resent it."

Vivaan nods defeatedly. "If it makes you happy, go for it." He forces a smile on his face.

Yuvraaj feels his heart clenching in his chest at the hurt in his brother's eyes. All he expects from them is support, he's doing enough overthinking for himself.

Stepping closer, he wraps an arm around the man's shoulders, pulling him for a hug. Taken aback with the sudden gesture of affection, Vivaan wastes no time in returning it. His arms cling to his older brother's back, chin resting on his broad shoulder. "I resent giving up on music, Vivaan, never for choosing you guys. Always remember that, okay?" Vivaan nods over his shoulder. Patting his back firmly, Yuvraaj pulls away and turns around to face the mirror, fixing his appearance for the umpteenth time since last night. "Let's go," he beckons the man along.

Skipping the unimportant rituals, Yuvraaj stands at the altar again, only this time, his bride walks down the aisle without him having to wait any longer.

Sara knows she lacked the shine in her eyes, colour in her cheeks, lightness in her gait. She didn't fit the typical image of an Indian bride. She had no showy jewelry adorning her neck and hands, no heavy make-up making her look unrealistically perfect, no beaming smile gracing her lips. But there is a pull between them even the limited audience won't deny. And their eyes, even against the dawning of the mighty sun, do not part ways, not for a second.