ROYAL REPLACEMENT [ON HOLD]

CHAPTER 7: LIKE MY WIFE

Sahar returned to the palace after a full day of meetings, exhausted and yearning for the comfort of her bed. She could almost feel the soft mattress beneath her as she walked toward her room. But before she could reach her sanctuary, she was stopped by her mother-in-law.

"Sahar, can we talk?" her mother-in-law asked, her tone serious.

Sahar didn't want to be rude to the women who hasn't done or said anything to her so she agreed, though her tiredness tugged at her. They moved toward the living room and sat down on the couch, the air between them heavy with unspoken tension.

"Sahar, I wanted to talk to you from the first day, but couldn't," her mother-in-law began. "Don't take this the wrong way—whatever I'm about to say is for your own benefit."

Sahar nodded, curious and unsure of where this conversation was headed.

"Abhimaan is not what he appears to be," her mother-in-law began, her tone darkening. "He's not the nice person, the perfect son, or the wise king that he seems to be. It's all a façade, a mask to hide his real personality."

Sahar frowned, but before she could respond, the older woman pressed on.

"He's greedy and selfish; he only cares about himself. He might appear kind to you now, but when the time comes, he'll use you for his own benefit. And if you're no longer useful, he'll discard you, just like he did with his own mother." The bitterness in her voice was unmistakable. "I'm not his real mother." she said " But do you know where his real mother is? She's somewhere dying, and he abandoned her for his own gain because he wanted to be king. He wanted this position so badly that he left her behind."

Sahar looked at her mother-in-law in disbelief. She couldn't reconcile the image of Abhimaan this woman was painting with the man she had come to know. Sure, Abhimaan and his mother didn't live together, but Sahar had seen him with his mother—seen the love and care in his eyes during that one meeting. He wasn't anything like what this woman was describing.

"This palace wasn't always like this, so deserted, so empty," her mother-in-law continued, her voice dripping with venom. "We weren't always like this—we were happy once. But since he came, he ruined everything."

Sahar felt her anger rising, boiling under her skin. She hated everything this woman was saying, every word that tried to paint Abhimaan in such a negative light.

"This whole family has a problem with giving unasked-for advice," Sahar started, her voice laced with barely concealed irritation. "But let me make something clear—I'm not here to get involved in your family drama. I'm here because I have to be, not because I want to be."

She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing, her tone growing sharper. "And one more thing—Abhimaan is my husband. I know him better than you do. I know what kind of a person he is, so you don't need to pretend to know about him when, in reality, you know nothing about him."

Her mother-in-law's expression hardened, the bitterness in her voice only deepening. "You will regret trusting him," she said harshly, her words hanging in the air like a dark omen.

Done with the conversation, Sahar stormed out of the living room, fuming with anger. The audacity of this family baffled her—everyone seemed to thrive on drama and deception. As she entered her room, she felt the weight of exhaustion, not just from the day's meetings but from the emotional turmoil brewing within her. She sat on the edge of her bed, her mind racing. 

What kind of family is this?  she thought, her frustration growing. They all seem to despise each other, and now they're trying to drag me into their mess.