You're Mine, I'm Yours II

Part 19

Khanna stood by the large window in her room, the golden afternoon light casting an ethereal glow on her. The sprawling gardens of their father's estate stretched endlessly before her, meticulously trimmed hedges and vibrant flowerbeds blending into the horizon. Despite the beauty of the view, her mind was far from serene. Her arms were tightly crossed, her fingers digging slightly into her forearms as she stared blankly at the landscape, her thoughts swirling like an unstoppable storm.

The room was silent except for the faint rustling of the curtains as the breeze seeped through the slightly open window. Khaotung leaned against the doorframe, unnoticed at first. He observed his sister quietly, the lines of worry etched on her face catching his attention. She had always been the epitome of grace and strength in his eyes, but now, standing there, she looked uncharacteristically fragile. He hesitated for a moment before stepping inside.

"You've been standing there for a while," Khaotung said softly, his voice carrying the warmth of concern.

Khanna turned her head at the sound of his voice, her composed features momentarily flickering with surprise before settling back into a guarded expression. She straightened, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Father wants me to get engaged to Leo," she said, her tone flat but betraying the weight of her emotions.

Khaotung frowned slightly, stepping further into the room. "Isn't that a good thing? You were interested in him, weren't you?"

Khanna sighed deeply and moved to sit on the edge of her bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. Her hands clasped in her lap, her fingers fidgeting in a rare display of unease. "Yes, I was. But that doesn't matter to Father. To him, this isn't about me or my feelings-it's about the business. Marrying Leo aligns with his plans. This engagement isn't for me. It's for him."

Khaotung crossed the room and sat beside her, their shoulders almost touching. He glanced at her profile, her usual calm and unshakable demeanor replaced by a shadow of vulnerability. "Then why go through with it?" he asked gently. "Why let him control this part of your life too? You're more than just a pawn in his game."

Khanna didn't respond immediately, her gaze fixed on her hands. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the bed, her knuckles paling slightly. "Because he's still our father," she said finally, her voice quieter, almost as if she were trying to convince herself as much as Khaotung. "No matter how cold or calculating he is, I can't just ignore his expectations. I've spent my whole life trying to prove that I'm capable, that I'm worthy of being his daughter." Her voice faltered, a rare crack in her armor.

Khaotung's heart ached at her words. He had always admired her strength-her determination to stand tall under their father's scrutinizing gaze, to meet every challenge head-on. But now, as he listened to her, he realized just how much weight she carried, how much she sacrificed in her relentless pursuit of approval. "Why do you keep trying, Khanna?" he asked, his tone raw with emotion. "Father doesn't care about us beyond what we can do for him. You've proven yourself over and over. When will it ever be enough?"

Khanna finally looked at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, though her voice remained steady. "It will never be enough, Khao. But he's all we've got. As much as I hate it, as much as it hurts, I still want his approval. I want him to see me as more than just another tool."

Before Khaotung could respond, a soft knock broke the tension. The door creaked open, and Meera, one of their father's most trusted maids, stepped in. Her posture was impeccably straight, her expression calm and composed. "Excuse me, Miss Khanna," she said with a slight bow. "Your father has requested your presence in his study."

Khanna closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath as if steeling herself for what was to come. She rose gracefully, smoothing the fabric of her dress, her composed mask slipping back into place. It was almost like watching a warrior don their armor before heading into battle.