ENCHANTED - BY INNOCENCE (ongoing)

74

Guys I listened to your feedback to to trouble shoot and find out the real reasons for the next two weeks, I will update twice a week - Wednesdays and Sundays....if the target gets back to as usual I will keep going ❤️

This chapter has 3000+ (excluding girl's girl) words and ends with girl's girl and a question. Make sure you read till the end.

Target for the next chapter - 1200 votes and 750 comments

*** Yashoda ***

"For the first time, I am wondering if we made a mistake," I heard my father tell my mother as I entered their dimly lit room.He was sitting on the edge of the bed, wringing his hands nervously. "Had it been someone from our village, we would've been able to go to the tribe heads to resolve the issue and question him... but he is the General... too powerful to be questioned."

"Are you sure it is a prostitute?" my mother asked softly, her voice filled with disbelief.

"Of course I am sure," his voice cracked at the end. "Rich and powerful men often..." 

"My husband is not like that, Bapu," I interrupted as I stepped into the room.

"Yashu..." my father wiped his tears with the back of his hand and slowly stood up.  "Yashu, my child," he said, holding my face gently, "I am so sorry for getting you into this marriage."

"Bapu, you shouldn't be regretting anything," I replied, holding his wrists. "General Sir is not such a man. He would never even look at another woman with wrong intentions, let alone visit a prostitute."

"So you think I was wrong?" my father asked, his brows furrowing, still not convinced.

"I think your understanding of him is wrong," I said calmly.

"Whatever, Yashu..." he began, trying to defend himself, but suddenly stopped—as if startled by a presence behind me.

I turned around to find Dheeru standing at the door. 

I am sure he heard us, yet he offered no explanation, no anger, no defense.

"Let's go," he said calmly, reaching out to take my hand, but my Bapu swiftly pulled me behind him, protective and shaken.

"Not letting my daughter be stained by the hands of a man who visits prostitutes," he said—his voice trying to be firm, but laced with fear.

"I did not visit any prostitutes," Dheeru replied, his tone steady, almost puzzled by the accusation—as though the truth should be obvious to everyone in the room.

"So the symbol Vishnu gave me came out of nowhere?" my father pressed, his voice rising. "Not from someone you know or met?"

"I did meet her, but not in the way that you think," Dheeru explained, stepping forward a little, his posture still respectful.

"For what other reasons would a man meet a prostitute?" my father challenged again.

"Sir, do not annoy me, or else—" Dheeru began, taking a threatening step forward, but halted immediately at the faint clink of my mother's bangles. Her hands were trembling as she held the edge of the bedframe for support.

He turned his gaze toward her, pausing. The sight of her fear seemed to calm his temper. Then he looked at my father—who, despite being visibly frightened, still stood tall guarding his child.

Dheeru exhaled slowly, calming himself.

"I am not at liberty to disclose complete details when it comes to matters of the Crown," he said, choosing his words carefully. "All you need to know is this: when a king interacts with someone, as a part of the security protocol, we are obliged to inquire and ensure they are harmless. There is a woman who has been interacting with the King—not in improper settings," he clarified quickly, "but in respectful conversations. We wanted to find out about her. The tattoo was our clue."