Royal Secrets (Shhhh)

Chapter 11. ~ You Are My Healer ~

Vote, Comment & Follow !!!

True to Abhinav's words, a bodyguard arrived at the back of Dhara's house that night. She hesitated, her heart pounding with fear, but she followed him quietly. They walked through a dark, tunnel-like path, the shadows pressing in around her. Sweat beaded on her forehead as the torchlight flickered ahead, guiding them to a strange place-a towering wall loomed before them. Another girl stood there, waiting.

"Now, we'll check you first," the girl said firmly.

Dhara's eyes widened in shock. "W... why?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"From now on," Abhinav's voice cut through the darkness from behind, "we'll search you every day before you enter Raanasa's room. No weapons, no poison-you won't take anything dangerous inside. If you're hiding something, we'll catch you right here."

Dhara froze, feeling like a criminal. Her throat tightened, but she couldn't speak.

"Maybe Hukum ordered this. " she thought, her mind spinning. The girl began inspecting her thoroughly, and Dhara's cheeks burned with humiliation. Tears welled up as she fought the urge to run, while Abhinav watched with a cold smirk.

"Sir, she's clean," the girl reported.

"Fine. Go," Abhinav said dismissively.

He tapped a code into the wall, and a door slid open silently. Dhara glanced back-Abhinav, the girl, and the bodyguard had vanished. She stepped into a small, dimly lit room, the faint glow of a single bulb casting long shadows. She unlatched the door ahead and gasped-there, before her, was Samar's room. As she entered, the door clicked shut, transforming into a large painting behind her. She realized it hid the secret passage she'd just come through.

The room was still, empty, save for the sound of water running in the washroom. Dhara lingered near the painting, her mind a tangle of questions.

Why was she here?

What was she supposed to do?

What awaited her?

Her heart raced with confusion and fear.

Moments later, Samar emerged, a towel around his waist, wiping his damp hair. His eyes landed on her, and she quickly turned away, flustered by his bare form.

"When did you get here?" he asked casually, still drying his hair.

"J... just a little w... while ago," she stammered.

"Go set out my food," he said, disappearing into his changing room.

Dhara hurried to the food trolley by the table, arranging his meal as she'd done before. It was already 11:30-his schedule was unpredictable, shaped by the demands of his political life. He understood its weight well, and she admired that, even now.

Samar returned in a black vest and white track pants, sitting down to eat without a word. Dhara stood silently nearby, watching.

The simple meal on Samar's plate looked so tempting to Dhara, a quiet promise of flavor she hadn't tasted in ages. For too long, she'd survived on nothing but plain Maggi, day after day. He'd forbidden her from leaving to fetch vegetables or groceries, and here in the palace, everything cost more than she could ever hope to afford. She didn't dare ask, afraid of sparking his temper again. So she stood back, watching the food from afar, her stomach twisting with hunger.

But who would notice?

Who would care?

After eating, he took his medicines, and Dhara observed him closely, curious about what they were but too afraid to ask. Then he opened a bottle of wine, a cigarette in his other hand, and her unease grew. She'd been in his room before, but never seen this side of him-she'd always left after serving his food. How could someone so disciplined drink and smoke after such a meal?