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"You will be the Yuvraani of Suryagarh but you will never be my wife."
When they were only kids, Ridhima and Hruday were promised into a bond they didn't even know the meaning of.
Hruday Singh Tanwar, g...
Ridhima's day had started just like any other, except this time, she had a tiny interruption on her way to the office. As she crossed the sprawling courtyard of the palace, the sound of delicate footsteps caught her attention. Turning, she smiled as she saw Avni, Hruday's little sister, standing there, her face glowing with excitement. Dressed in a beautiful blue and silver lehenga, with her hair neatly braided and small bangles jingling on her wrists, Avni looked like a mini version of royalty.
"Ridhima Di!" Avni chirped, bouncing on her toes, her eyes sparkling with pride. "Look! I'm all dressed up for my dance competition today! Are you coming?"
Ridhima crouched down to Avni's height, unable to resist smiling at the sight of her enthusiasm. "Wow, Avni, you look absolutely stunning. A dance competition, huh? What time is it?"
"It's in the evening! You have to come! Please?" Avni clutched her hands, her wide eyes pleading in that way only a little sister could.
Ridhima couldn't help but chuckle. Avni had this charm about her that no one could resist. "Of course, I'll come," she promised. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Avni's grin widened as she threw her arms around Ridhima, hugging her tightly before bouncing off to her next destination.
Ridhima watched her go, her heart feeling warm.
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Ridhima walked down the sterile, white-walled corridor of the hospital, her footsteps echoing softly against the tiles. The familiar scent of antiseptic filled the air, and the faint beeping of machines hummed in the background as she approached Hruday's father's room. She had been visiting Hruday's father regularly for weeks now, and each time, there was a strange mix of hope and dread that churned in her stomach.
When she stepped inside the room, she immediately felt a sense of unease. Devraj Singh, once a commanding and lively figure, lay in his hospital bed, looking much frailer than he had the last time she'd seen him. His face, usually filled with warmth, was pale, and his breathing was shallow, almost labored. The improvement she had seen in him just days ago seemed to have evaporated, leaving him weaker than before.
"Dev Uncle," she called softly, stepping closer to the bed. "How are you feeling today?"
His eyes fluttered open, and despite the effort it took, he managed to give her a small, tired smile. "Ridhima, my dear," he said, his voice raspy and thin, barely above a whisper. "It's good to see you."
Ridhima pulled a chair closer to his bed, her brow furrowed in concern as she took in his appearance. He had been doing better, hadn't he? Just a few days ago, he had been joking with her about the wedding, talking about how he couldn't wait to see Hruday squirm in his wedding attire. But now...
"You look tired," she said, trying to keep her voice light, but the worry was clear. "Are you in pain?"
Devraj shook his head slightly, but the movement seemed to drain him. "No pain, just... weakness," he admitted. "My body feels like it's failing me some days. I guess that's what happens when you get old."
