Transgressions (Arshi Shorts)

Whispers of Amer - 2

🎶  Kalank - Arijit Singh

Khushi stretched, stifling a yawn as she pushed away from the table and strolled to the glass walls, gazing out over the twinkling lights of Jaipur below. She was in Mr. Raizada's presidential suite at the Taj Amer Hotel, a spacious retreat featuring a study, a living area, and two king-sized bedrooms.

Every inch of the living space was covered in papers, with the walls plastered in photographs of the fort and its ruins, capturing even the most minuscule details.

Khushi had been working on her book, Chronicles of the Last Princess of Amer, for five months now, with a plethora of resources at her disposal - manpower, exclusive access to private sites within Amer Fort, and confidential documents kept hidden from the public eye.

Arnav Singh Raizada had pulled every conceivable string to ensure Khushi's work proceeded without hindrance. She knew he came from wealth, yet the shock persisted for nearly a month after she signed the contract. He had reserved this suite for their exclusive use throughout the six-month project and had even gone as far as booking a separate private suite nearby, freeing her from the need to travel back and forth between her home and the worksite.

The most baffling aspect of all was his constant presence and relentless involvement in the project. By day, he was a businessman; by night, a historian. Though this was his suite, they would spend countless hours together, immersed in the findings from the day, poring over her work, and making necessary edits well into the evening.

Khushi was now fairly certain that she was somehow connected to the princess, despite her own humble origins - her family had neither wealth nor royal lineage. But Arnav Singh Raizada remained an enigma.

Khushi had been wary of his presence during the first few weeks, haunted by questions that wouldn't let her rest. How much did he really know?

More than once, their discussions had drifted dangerously close to the source of her knowledge. But she had kept her secrets close, unwilling to reveal the visions that guided her. How could she explain knowing precisely where the princess had hidden an invaluable artifact, or how she had found the concealed trap door beneath the dust-cloaked floor of the west wing?

She was always relieved when he didn't press her for more information, and over time, it gradually became easier to work with him. His stern demeanor seemed confined to perfunctory greetings or reserved for his business affairs. Despite being alone together, secluded in this hotel suite, their interactions remained purely professional - both entirely absorbed in the mysteries and ancient history of Jaipur.

Khushi's visions were clearer than ever; she couldn't help but wonder if his presence somehow sharpened her mind, transforming the once flickering scenes into vivid, lifelike sequences. Accessing the princess's thoughts came more easily now - from her childhood memories to the trials of her adulthood.

Yet, Khushi couldn't ignore the troubling gaps that remained: the pivotal conflict, the event that had brought ruin to the Shivashakti temple, stayed frustratingly vague. All she caught were disjointed flashes of fire and screams, haunting yet indistinct. She would shudder each time, dreading what truths might be revealed if the puzzle finally completed itself.

On several occasions, she had come close to asking him if he, too, shared the same visions, but each time her nerves betrayed her. A nagging fear would stir in her gut - the thought that if they did share that connection, it would make her erratic behavior feel almost tangible. She still clung to an unspoken hope, a flicker of faith, that her obsession with the Shivashakti ruins was simply the passion of a historian, not the echoes of a long-lost princess from a bygone era.