A Glimpse of Red

Arrival

The journey to Rawal Palace began in silence. Nitya sat upright, her eyes closed, radiating an aura of calm detachment. Across from her, Pratham was absorbed in his phone, fingers flying over the screen as he attended to emails and messages. The atmosphere inside the car was tense, not from any overt argument, but from the unspoken distance between them.In the driver's seat, Akhil kept sneaking glances at the pair through the rearview mirror. He couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at the situation. His brother, Pratham, who commanded rooms with his mere presence, was now seated next to someone who refused to acknowledge him. Nitya was no ordinary woman, and Akhil admired her quiet defiance.Breaking the tension, Akhil cheerfully remarked, "Bhabhisa, you'll love Rawal Palace. It's much greener and livelier than Rajput Palace. The gardens there—"Nitya opened her eyes briefly, giving him a stiff smile that barely reached her lips, before closing them again. "I'm sure it's beautiful," she said flatly, offering no further response. Before Akhil could try again, Pratham spoke, his voice cutting through the space with practiced authority. "Great places come with great responsibility." Nitya didn't respond. She simply closed her eyes again, choosing to ignore the man she had just married. Akhil chuckled, finding it amusing that for the first time, someone dared to dismiss his brother. It was a refreshing change.Pratham's eyes burned with a storm of irritation as he watched Nitya's deliberate indifference. Her calm demeanor, her refusal to acknowledge his presence—it was as though she was testing him. With a sharp movement, he pressed the button to activate the partition, sealing them off from Akhil in the front. The soft hum of the divider rising was the only sound, but the tension inside the car thickened like a coiled snake ready to strike.The moment the partition clicked into place, Pratham reached for her hand, his grip firm yet controlled, exuding power. His dark eyes bored into her as he leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping into a tone that sent shivers through the air."Nitya Ranjith Singh Rajput," he began, each syllable clipped and deliberate, "remember who you're speaking to. I am not one of your Rajput servants to be dismissed so easily. I am a KING."The intensity of his words didn't faze Nitya. Slowly, as though she had all the time in the world, she opened her eyes and met his glare with an unyielding calm. Nitya's fingers twitched beneath his hold, but she didn't pull away. Instead, her defiance was silent yet powerful. Slowly, deliberately, her fingers moved, intertwining with his in an elegant motion that seemed almost mocking. The softness of her touch contrasted with the strength of his grip, creating a magnetic tension between them."First of all, Mr. King," she said, her voice smooth yet edged with steel, "I am Nitya Pratham Singh Rawal. And second— attitude runs in my veins."Her words were a blade wrapped in silk, slicing through his authority while maintaining her composure. For a moment, Pratham's fury faltered, replaced by something deeper, something darker. His lips twitched into a smirk—not of humor, but of intrigue, as though her defiance had awakened a predator within him."Interesting," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, the word carrying an unspoken promise. Without breaking eye contact, he lifted her hand to his lips. The kiss he placed on her knuckles was slow, deliberate, and possessive, a silent claim that was as much a challenge as her words.Before either could say more, the car came to a stop. They had arrived at Rawal Palace."Wait here, Rani Sa. Let me do the honor," Pratham said, stepping out of the car.As he opened the door for Nitya, the scene that unfolded before her was breathtaking. Fireworks lit up the night sky, painting it in brilliant hues of gold and red. A cascade of fragrant flower petals rained down upon her, and the soft murmurs of the gathered crowd turned into cheers. The entirety of Devgarh had come to welcome their new queen.The moment Nitya stepped out of the car, a spectacle of grandeur unfolded before her eyes. The Rawal Palace, an architectural marvel, stood tall against the twilight sky, illuminated by thousands of lamps that bathed its ivory walls in a golden glow. Intricate carvings adorned its façade, telling stories of valor and legacy that spanned centuries. The sprawling gardens surrounding the palace were alive with fragrant blooms, their vibrant hues glowing under the soft light of torches that lined the pathways. Fireworks erupted in the sky, painting it in brilliant colors, while petals rained down from above like a floral waterfall. The air was filled with the sound of conch shells and drums, a melodious symphony that echoed through the palace grounds, celebrating the arrival of their new queen. The people of Devgarh had gathered in large numbers, their faces alight with joy and admiration as they beheld their queen. For the first time that day, a smile broke across Nitya's face—a rare, genuine smile that reflected the pride and strength within her. She was not merely stepping into a new chapter of her life; she was stepping into history, a union that would alter the course of two dynasties. At the grand entrance of the palace, Queen Mother Arpita stood waiting, regal and poised, holding a traditional silver plate adorned with a diya, rice grains, turmeric, and a red paste for the ceremonial welcome. Her saree, a rich maroon silk with golden zari work, gleamed under the lights, and her expression was one of maternal warmth mingled with the authority of a matriarch. As Nitya approached, Arpita extended her arms, welcoming her daughter-in-law into the Rawal family. "Welcome to your home, Ranisa," she said with a smile, her voice soft yet commanding. She placed a gentle hand on Nitya's head in a gesture of blessing before guiding her to the ceremonial threshold. Nitya paused at the grand doorway, where a large brass kalash filled with rice was placed. Amrita Daksh Rawal explained, "This signifies abundance and prosperity. You are the goddess of this house now, and your steps will bring fortune." With deliberate grace, Nitya tilted the kalash with her right foot, spilling the rice as tradition dictated. Next, she stepped into a plate of vermillion paste, her bare feet leaving red footprints on the pristine white marble as she entered the palace. The symbolism was profound—her presence would leave an indelible mark on the Rawal family and its legacy. The grandeur inside the palace was breathtaking. The foyer alone was a masterpiece, with its high ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes depicting scenes from ancient Indian epics. Massive crystal chandeliers hung above, their light casting shimmering patterns on the polished marble floors. A grand staircase with gilded railings curved elegantly upward, leading to the private quarters of the royal family. The walls were adorned with portraits of Rawal ancestors, each face exuding the pride and valor of their lineage. As the family stood in the grand hall of the Rawal palace, basking in the regal ambiance of the grah pravesh, Queen Mother Arpita's eyes wandered lovingly toward Nitya, now adorned in her new role as her daughter-in-law. Her gaze then shifted toward her husband Raj Rawal, and a sad smile passed her lips."Nitya," Amrita began warmly, her voice carrying a motherly affection, "there is one more tradition to be fulfilled. It is the sister-in-law's duty to escort her bhabhisa to her new room for the first time." She paused, a hint of melancholy coloring her words. "Unfortunately, I don't have a daughter to perform this role."Nitya, standing gracefully amidst the towering presence of the Rawal men, tilted her head slightly in curiosity. "What is this ceremony, Maa sahib?" she asked softly, her voice respectful yet intrigued.Before Arpita could elaborate, Akhil, always quick to seize an opportunity, stepped forward with an air of determined playfulness. "Maa," he said with a small bow, his voice brimming with charm, "if there is no daughter in this family, then I will take on this duty. Who says only sisters can perform traditions?"A ripple of amusement spread through the family. Raj Rawal, Pratham's father, glanced at Akhil with a mix of disbelief and faint approval, though he maintained his stoic silence.Akhil turned to Nitya, his expression soft but resolute. "Bhabhisa, I won't let this tradition go unfulfilled. You are family, and this moment is important for all of us."Before Nitya could utter a word, Akhil bent slightly, surprising everyone as he scooped her up into his arms. A collective gasp echoed through the hall, followed by restrained laughter. Nitya, caught off guard, instinctively placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, her composure slipping just for a moment."Akhil!" Queen Mother Arpita exclaimed, her tone caught between chastisement and fondness.Akhil turned his head slightly toward her and replied with a cheeky grin, "Maa, I promised to fulfill this role with style. And since I am a boy, my way is bound to be a little different." Nitya couldn't help but smile at his audacity, though she cast a quick glance at Pratham, whose expression remained inscrutable, save for a flicker of something unreadable in his dark eyes.Nitya's regal demeanor returning as she arched an eyebrow at her audacious brother-in-law. "You certainly have an unconventional approach to tradition, Akhil," she remarked, her tone light but with a glimmer of sharpness that suggested she was filing this moment away for future reckoning.Akhil laughed softly and carried her through the vast corridors of the palace. The shimmering chandeliers above cast golden light onto the polished marble floors, and the walls adorned with intricate tapestries seemed to echo the grandeur of the Rawal legacy.When they reached the ornately carved doors of Pratham's chamber courtyard, Akhil stopped, his expression shifting to one of solemnity. "Bhabhisa, i know you are a lioness. but this is a lion territory. careful" he said gently. Before Nitya could reply, Pratham strode toward them with three long, deliberate strides, his gaze burning with intensity. He reached and took Nitya from Akhil's arm to his and said, "I need that Dubai file on my table by 8 a.m.," Pratham commanded with icy authority, his voice sharp. He glanced at Akhil, his tone leaving no room for argument.With one last, swift look, Pratham turned and walked away, leaving Akhil to watch, speechless. He didn't wait for any response, his pride and jealousy too strong to be ignored. Akhil's face was a mixture of surprise and confusion, but he knew better than to challenge his elder brother.The moment Pratham reached their room, his posture shifted to one of cold control. He threw the door open, walking in with a heavy step, taking Nitya along with him. He didn't look back at her, but he could feel her presence under his, her defiance, like a storm brewing silently in the room.Once inside, Pratham throw her on the bed. The sudden outburst startled Nitya, but she held mattress for the support and Pratham with a loudest voice said "If you remember your name so well, then you should also remember who you belong to, and whose arms have the right to touch you."The words stung Nitya. She had never expected this from Pratham. The anger in his eyes wasn't directed at Akhil—it was for her. She wasn't sure whether to fight back or let the storm pass. But she wasn't about to back down."Rawal sa, Akhil is my brother-in-law," she replied, her voice steady, though her heart raced with confusion. She didn't understand the sudden shift in Pratham's demeanor.Pratham's lips curled into a sharp line, his voice slicing through the silence. "And I am your husband," he snapped, each word dripping with possessive authority.Nitya felt a heavy silence fall over the room. She stared him for a moment, her heart pounding. She couldn't bring herself to respond right away. Instead, she moved to the left side of the bed and began to remove her jewelry, her actions deliberate and slow.Pratham watched her, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. "What do you think you're doing?" His voice, though low, was full of command.With a calm that contradicted the tension in the room, Nitya answered, "My husband, my room, my bed. And I'm preparing myself for sleep."Her words hung in the air, and Pratham's laugh was sharp, almost mocking. He shook his head in disbelief, as if her calmness was both infuriating and intriguing to him. He removed his sherwani with a swift motion and moved to the other side of the bed. He settled in, but his eyes never left her.Nitya, now lying in bed, took a deep breath, trying to relax, but her mind was racing. She was aware of Pratham's every move, his presence looming over her, even though he had settled into his side of the bed.The lights in the room dimmed as Pratham reached for the switch and turned them off, plunging them into darkness. "Sleep, Ranisa " he murmured, his tone softer, but still filled with an underlying intensity.Nitya didn't respond, choosing instead to ignore him and focus on her breathing. She wanted to let her mind wander, but something in Pratham's presence—his silent power, his simmering jealousy—kept her alert.And when Pratham finally realized Nitya had fallen asleep, he couldn't help himself. He reached out and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her, holding her against his chest."My Nitya," he whispered, the words soft, yet filled with a deep, possessive love that he couldn't quite hide.