The Empress of his Heart

EMBRACING THE NEW DAWN

RIDDHAAN'S POV

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner, and I stood by the window, watching the soft glow of the early morning sun filter in through the curtains. My gaze shifted to the bed where she lay, my precious, my queen. Her chest rose and fell gently, her face serene in her sleep. I knew her peace had been hard-won. Her periods had just ended, and the thought of the agony she endured every month made my blood boil. She had never complained, never showed how much she suffered, but I could see it. Every wince, every flinch, every time she forced a smile despite the pain, I noticed it all. And her past, I need to know what it was, what the painful nightmare that is tormenting her. Before that nightmare consumes her I will destroy every essence of that memory.

I'd watched her break down, curling into herself as if her body had betrayed her. But she wasn't weak—no, she was the strongest person I knew. Still, the idea that she had to go through that kind of hell every month while I stood by, unable to do anything, tore me apart. She deserved better. She deserved care, comfort, and protection during her most vulnerable times, and I promised myself I would be that for her.

From now on, I would take care of her extra on those days, even if she protested. I'd make sure she had everything she needed, that she'd never have to lift a finger. I'd shield her from every discomfort, from every pain. That was my duty. My love for her was endless, but it was moments like these that deepened it even further, fueling the obsessive desire to keep her safe, to make sure she never had to face any more pain in her life.

I walked over to the bed, kneeling beside her, and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful. My queen. My world.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket, jolting me from my thoughts. I glanced at the screen. Mr Shekhawat.

I rolled my eyes before answering. "Yes?"

Please this time it should be the good news of my adorable grandfather's death, I have already tailored a special outfit to wear at his funeral for the last two years, god knows when it will make it out of my wardrobe.

"Riddhaan" he barked, his tone as cold and sharp as I'd expected. "It's time to bring your... wife to the palace. We need to announce the marriage and perform the rituals."

Oh even now my outfit has to wait, feeling sad about it, but How much that oldie wishes to live, my outfit is still in trend if he took more time it will be out of trend.

''You are listening to me or not, bring your wife and our so-called daughter-in-law to the palace'' he screamed the disdain in his voice when he referred to her as my wife was torture to hear, she needs to be treated with respect. He had never approved of her, no one in the family did and never thought she was good enough to be a part of the Shekhawat family. But that didn't matter to me. She was my queen, my everything, and I wouldn't tolerate any disrespect toward her—not from anyone. Not even him.

"She's not just my wife, Mr Shekhawat. She's the queen" I said, my voice low but firm. "And you will respect her as such." There was a pause on the other end of the line, the tension crackling between us.

"Respect?" he spat. "You expect me to respect someone who—"

"One word of disrespect" I cut him off, my voice hardening, "and I will make sure she never steps a single foot inside the palace. Do you understand and hell with your bloody reputation?"

Another pause, longer this time. I could feel his anger simmering, but I didn't care. I would not let anyone, not even my father, speak ill of her.

"Fine" he finally said, though the bitterness in his tone was evident. "But don't forget your duty to this family, also you are the king and now she is the unwanted queen of yours. Bring her. We expect you here in two days."