Queen Aishwarya left Princess Aaira's room with a heavy heart, determined to address the pain and confusion Aaira was experiencing. She made her way through the grand halls of the palace to the chambers of King Virat and Queen Amaira. Knocking softly on their door, she entered when she heard their invitation to come in.
"Queen Aishwarya, what brings you here?" Virat asked, his brow furrowing with concern as he noticed the serious expression on Aishwarya's face.
"Aishwarya, is everything alright?" Amaira added, her voice laced with worry.
"Aaira is not alright," Aishwarya began gently. "She overheard your argument earlier. She heard things that have deeply hurt her."
Both Virat and Amaira's faces paled. "What did she hear?" Amaira asked, her voice trembling.
"She heard you discussing how you almost divorced when Amaira was pregnant, how Virat didn't want a child and suggested an abortion," Aishwarya explained softly. "She's in great pain, feeling unwanted and confused."
Amaira gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth, while Virat looked stricken. "We need to go to her," he said urgently.
Without another word, they hurried to Aaira's room. Knocking softly, they received no response. They exchanged worried glances before gently opening the door and stepping inside.
There, by the window, they saw Aaira, her form bathed in the soft glow of the evening light. She was sitting on the window seat, but her eyes were closed, and it was clear she had cried herself to sleep.
Virat and Amaira moved closer, their hearts aching at the sight of their daughter looking so vulnerable. Virat closed the window gently to shield her from the evening chill, while Amaira knelt beside her.
"She is our life," Amaira whispered, tears filling her eyes.
"We've hurt her so much," Virat replied, his voice heavy with regret.
Amaira reached out, tenderly combing Aaira's hair with her fingers before gathering it into a neat ponytail. "We need to make this right," she said, her voice determined.
Together, they carefully lifted Aaira and guided her to her bed. Virat pulled back the covers, and they gently laid her down, tucking her in securely. Amaira smoothed her hair back from her face, her touch tender and loving.
Sitting on either side of her, they each took one of her hands, holding her close. Virat leaned down and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering as he whispered, "I love you, my Rajkumari."
Amaira followed, pressing a gentle kiss to Aaira's temple. "You are our precious daughter, Aaira. We love you so much," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion.
They sat there for a long time, holding her hands and watching her sleep. The weight of their past mistakes hung heavily in the air, but their resolve to mend the wounds and reassure their daughter of their love was unwavering. As the night deepened, they stayed by her side, united in their determination to heal their family.
~~~~~
The next morning, the atmosphere at the breakfast table was unusually tense. King Virat and Queen Amaira were attempting to maintain a facade of normalcy, though a simmering anger was evident in Amaira's eyes every time she glanced at her husband. The Rajput family was already seated, engaged in light conversation and unaware of the underlying tension.
Queen Aishwarya noticed the slight unease but chose not to comment, focusing instead on keeping the mood light and cheerful for her children. King Rajendra was chatting amicably with King Virat, who did his best to respond with equal warmth, though his thoughts were clearly elsewhere.
