The Promised Queen

𝓉𝑒𝓃

Ridhima

My mother's eyes well up with tears of happiness when she enters my room.

I am wearing the dress Hruday picked out for my engagement and professional makeup artists were called to do my hair and make-up. I had never done a full face of make-up before and I was feeling so awkward until I saw the finished look. They have kept the makeup minimal like I asked them. My hair is open and they have made soft wavy curls in it, with a few small locks braided from the front to the back. Small baby pink flowers are pinned on my wavy hair. All in all, it looks very beautiful. Enough to make my mother cry.

"May the evil eyes stay as far as possible from you, my Laado." My mother coos, putting kajal from her eyes behind my ear. I smile at her trying my best to hide my nervousness. It is true that I feel and look beautiful today. But the thought of being seen standing next to the Yuvraaj himself makes me a little nervous.

"Yuvraani-Sa, it is time to go." One of the helpers inform us, knocking at the door. I look at my mother and she nodded. Looks like I am really getting engaged. With a big breath, I walk out of the room.

Hruday

I stand near the stage, animatedly talking to people that come up to me pretending to have something to talk about but then leave as soon as they are done clicking their pictures. I really wish for this day to end as soon as possible. So many fake laughing faces, and useless chit-chat is really draining me.

"Bhabhi is here." Ishaan tells me when my eyes meet his and I turn to look at the direction everyone's eyes are now glued to and just like the rest of them, my own eyes betray me. They refuse to look at anything other than the woman who is now walking up to me. She is wearing the dress I chose for her and she looks like a fairy princess in it, the soft colors complimenting her milky skin so well. The flowers in her hair makes her look like she is part of the nature herself, so ethereal. She is not even wearing that much make-up but is already looking ten times better than half the girls that are attending this party.

Slowly, with soft music playing in the background she walks up to me with her mother by her side, holding onto her hand. She looks mesmerizing.

I am so lost just looking at her that for a moment I forget that we are in a room full of people. It takes someone nudging me in the arm for me to finally remember what I must do. I come back to my senses and offer her my hand which Ridhima takes slowly, our hands fitting perfectly into each other. I guide her to the stage and suddenly when the camera flash loudly goes off after taking a picture I am reminded of the reality of this situation.

I have no option but to marry you.

These were her words. This marriage is only for show, I tell myself. Then why can I not take my eyes off this woman who is standing in front of me?