Aarvi's Reluctant Destiny

chapter 7 :Echoes of Unspoken Feelings

---

Aarvi’s Chamber

For the past three days, Aarvi had isolated herself in her room, savoring the comforting silence that enveloped her. Wrapped in blankets on her bed, she gently stroked Snowball, who purred contentedly by her side. Outside, the world felt distant—almost like a faint echo she could barely hear.

“Isn’t it nice, Snowball?” she whispered, her fingers gliding over the cat’s soft fur. “Just the two of us… no one expecting anything, no one watching.” A slight sadness tinted her voice, her thoughts drifting to the familiarity of solitude. People never really noticed her absence. They had Janhvi, the one everyone adored, so it didn’t matter if she was gone for days. The thought brought a dull ache she’d grown accustomed to. Better this way, she thought. It’s simpler.

---

Outside her door, Yudhishthira leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, a thoughtful expression on his face as he glanced at the closed door. “It’s strange, don’t you think?” he murmured, glancing at Duryodhan. “She’s always quiet, but she’s usually somewhere—either in the library or out in the garden with Snowball. It’s unlike her to be shut away for so long.”

Duryodhan scoffed, arms folded as he shrugged. “She’s probably just doing what she always does—hiding from everyone. Why should it matter?” He looked away, but his gaze flickered back to her door, betraying a sliver of concern he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Yudhishthira gave him a knowing smile. “So, you noticed as well?” he said softly, enjoying Duryodhan’s discomfort.

Duryodhan frowned, bristling slightly. “I just don’t like things out of place, that’s all. It’s... unsettling.”

“Maybe,” Yudhishthira replied, his gaze returning to her door. “But I think there’s more to it. Sometimes, even the quietest people need someone to notice when they’re not around.”

Duryodhan shifted uncomfortably, casting one last glance at the door before turning away. “Well, standing here won’t change anything,” he muttered, but his words lacked conviction. Both of them reluctantly moved away, but as they walked, Yudhishthira couldn’t shake the feeling of something unfinished—a pull toward that closed door and the quiet girl behind it.

As they turned to leave, Duryodhan found himself glancing back at Aarvi’s door, an unexpected worry gnawing at him. Why should I care if she’s hidden away? he thought, trying to dismiss the feeling, but it lingered, irritating him. She was always so quiet, so distant, and yet he found himself bothered by her absence.

It’s not like she’s invisible, he told himself. She was the only one who moved so silently through the palace halls, slipping unnoticed into the library or disappearing into the garden. That was what frustrated him, he realized—her ability to vanish from everyone’s awareness without anyone questioning it. He frowned, trying to shake off the thought. “It’s not like I care,” he muttered, though even he wasn’t fully convinced.

---

Pandavas and Janhvi in the Courtyard

In the courtyard, Janhvi’s laughter rang out, her warm and cheerful presence captivating the Pandavas, who couldn’t help but feel uplifted around her.

“She’s like a breath of fresh air,” Nakul commented with a smile, watching her animated conversation with Arjuna. “It’s hard not to feel brighter when she’s around.”

Bhima nodded, chuckling. “Feels like the whole palace lights up with her laughter.”

Yudhishthira stood slightly apart, observing thoughtfully. His gaze wandered to a vibrant red rose in the garden—a flower attracting butterflies, basking in the sun's attention. He couldn’t help but see Janhvi in that rose, naturally drawing admiration. Then, his eyes fell on a smaller, paler flower swaying quietly in the shade, unnoticed. Aarvi, he thought, feeling a pang of sadness. She was much like that shadowed flower—unseen, yet resilient in her own space.