A Glimpse of Red

24

The morning began with Nitya still asleep, but when she woke up, she found herself tangled in Pratham's arms. Frustrated, she pushed him away, but he murmured in a sleepy voice, "Rani-sa, please."

The sound of his voice, soft and heavenly, made Nitya pause. With a defeated look, she replied, "Dear Rawal-sa, I'll be late. You promised me a 7 AM start."

Pratham finally opened his eyes and teased, "You just can't leave me in peace, can you?" A smirk formed on Nitya's lips as she shook her head.

With a resigned sigh, Pratham loosened his hold and said, "Wear something comfortable." Nitya nodded, then got up and headed to the washroom.

When Nitya stepped out of the bathroom, the sight before her took her breath away. Pratham was wearing a white polo t-shirt that clung snugly to his broad shoulders, his biceps straining against the fabric. He had paired it with light cream trousers, a brown belt, and polished boots, completing the perfect look.

Nitya had seen many handsome men in her life, but this man was beyond comparison. For the first time, she felt a deep desire to claim him as hers, truly hers.

As Pratham adjusted his limited-edition Fossil watch, he looked up and met her gaze. His eyes held a teasing glint as he asked, "Saree?"

Nitya nodded with a small smile. "Yes, saree is me," she replied, her voice light but firm.

Pratham smiled back knowingly. He had noticed her struggles with the saree yesterday—the way she'd fumbled with its pleats and drape. Yet, here she was, still dressed in one, her stubbornness shining through. His stubborn Rani-sa.

"And then he said, 'Your wish, madam,'" Nitya recalled with a smirk as they walked together toward the family hall.

There, they found Pratham's father, Raj Rawal, just returning from his morning horse-riding session. His regal figure was complemented by a stern yet curious expression as he noticed the pair. Nitya quickly bent down to touch his feet, earning a simple yet warm blessing: "Bless you."

Without further ado, Nitya and Pratham made their way outside the palace. The sight that greeted them nearly broke their composure—a heated standoff between their two loyal guards, Ram Singh and Keshav Singh. The two men glared at each other like rival cats, their irritation unmistakable.

Pratham sighed, stepping closer. "What's going on here?" he demanded. As Pratham approached the two guards, his sharp gaze shifted between their comical expressions. "What's going on here?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with authority.

Keshav Singh, sensing an opportunity to defend his honor, immediately straightened up and stepped forward. His face was a mix of indignation and desperation, like a child pleading his case to a parent.

"Hukum!" he began, his voice slightly high-pitched from the intensity of his emotions. "This man," he jabbed a finger at Ram Singh, "threw me out of my bed this morning! Just picked me up and tossed me like I was some sack of grain!"

Pratham raised an eyebrow, his disbelief evident. "And you let him do that?"

"Never, Hukum!" Keshav Singh exclaimed, his tone taking on an air of wounded pride. "I fought back with all my might. I gave him four punches—right in his leg!" He puffed out his chest as though this heroic retaliation had turned the tide of an epic battle.

At this, Nitya couldn't suppress her amusement. She covered her mouth to hide her growing smile, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Pratham. His reaction was priceless—a mix of exasperation and barely contained laughter.

"And you, Ram Singh?" Pratham asked, turning his attention to the silent, stoic guard who had been staring at the sky as though none of this concerned him.Ram Singh, who had been pretending to ignore the whole thing, suddenly perked up at the attention. Smiling smugly, he delivered a light shove to Keshav, who yelped dramatically in response and ram Singh said "Hukum, it was necessary. He was snoring so loudly, I thought the palace walls might collapse."