The narrow streets of Jaipur bustled with life that evening. Vendors shouted about fresh fruits, children ran with kites in their hands, women bargained for bangles. But amidst that chaos, in a small, old haveli at the corner of the street, there lived a girl whose world was very different.
Ishika Malhotra.
At the age of twenty-two, she should have been someone’s pampered princess, wearing dreams in her eyes and laughter on her lips. But life had been cruel.
🕊️ Ishika’s World
Her parents, Kartik and Naira Malhotra, were doctors—kind, respected, and deeply in love with their only daughter. But when Ishika was just four years old, a car accident had taken both of them away. Since then, she was left at the mercy of her Taya ji, Amit Malhotra, and Tayi ji, Palak Malhotra.
And mercy was the last thing they had.
For years, they treated Ishika as nothing more than a burden.
“Tu to ek bojh hai, Ishika,” her Tayi ji would often spit venom.
“Humne toh tujhe sirf is liye rakha kyunki samaj mein log bolte, warna tujhe toh sadak pe chhod dete.”
Her cousin brothers, Tarun never left a chance to mock her. Ishika did every chore of the house—cooking, cleaning, washing—yet was rewarded only with insults.
But despite the cruelty, her heart remained pure. She had a gentle smile that lit up her face, big brown eyes filled with innocence, and a soul too soft for the world she lived in.
🍲 The Gift of Cooking
There was, however, one thing Ishika excelled at—cooking.
From the age of ten, she began learning recipes by watching others, reading torn magazines, and experimenting secretly. Soon, she developed a magical touch. Her food wasn’t just delicious—it was healthy. She believed, “Khaana sirf pet bharne ke liye nahi hota, dil aur rooh tak sukoon dena chahiye.”
Even the neighbors, who sometimes caught the aroma from the Malhotra kitchen, whispered in awe, “Palak ki woh ladki… uske haath ka khaana toh jaadu hai.”
But in her own home, no one praised her.
“Banati hai toh bana le, warna kisne bola tha tujhe?” Palak would say with a curl of her lips.
And Tarun often mocked, “Shaadi bhi toh karni hai tujhe… par kaun karega? Tu toh sirf ek naukrani jaisi hai.”
Ishika would quietly lower her eyes, whispering only to herself, “Main chahe duniya ke liye kuch bhi na hoon, lekin Maa-Papa ke liye hamesha unki beti rahungi.”
🏰 In the Palace – The Brothers’ Bond
At the same time, miles away, the Rathore Palace stood in its majestic glory. Marble corridors echoed with silence, fountains gushed under moonlight, and servants moved quietly like shadows.
Inside the grand study room, Abhimaan Singh Rathore sat on a leather chair, sipping his black coffee. Across from him sat his two younger brothers, Ekansh and Yuvraj.
The three men were bound not just by blood, but by something much deeper.
“Bhai Sa,” Ekansh spoke first, his tone calm but heavy. “We all know Tarun Malhotra has betrayed you. But I also know… you will not forgive.”
Abhimaan leaned back, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Forgiveness is for weak men, Ekansh. And I am not weak.”
Yuvraj, the youngest, shifted uncomfortably. His usual smile was missing. “Bhai Sa, sometimes I wonder… maybe people betray us because they envy us. They want to see fear in your eyes, for once.”
Abhimaan turned his gaze to him. For a second, his expression softened. “Yuvraj, tum meri jaan ho. Aur tumhari maa… meri bhi maa thi. Us din ke baad se jab woh chali gayi, tum dono sirf mere bhai nahi… mere bachche ho.”
Both Ekansh and Yuvraj looked up, surprised.
“Bhai Sa…” Ekansh whispered, his eyes moist.
Abhimaan’s voice grew deeper, steadier. “Yes. I treat you both as my sons, not brothers. Jo dard tumne saha hai, uski bharpai main apne kandhon pe karta hoon. Tum dono ka ek aansu bhi meri izzat ko chot pahunchata hai.”
There was silence. The kind that made even the flickering candles pause.
Ekansh bowed his head. “Hukum Sa, aap humein apna baccha maante ho, yeh hamara sabse bada maan hai. Aap ke liye hum apni jaan dene ko taiyaar hain.”
Yuvraj’s lips trembled as he added, “Bhai Sa, I may smile and laugh, but I live every day with guilt… ki meri wajah se Maa guzar gayi.”
Before he could say more, Abhimaan slammed his hand on the table—not in anger, but in raw pain.
“Chup, Yuvraj! Not one more word. Agar humari maa tumse mohabbat karti thi, toh main us mohabbat ko jeeta rakhta hoon. Teri zindagi uske pyaar ka saboot hai. Don’t you dare insult that by blaming yourself.”
Tears welled up in Yuvraj’s eyes. Ekansh put a hand on his shoulder, and both brothers looked at their Bhai Sa with newfound reverence.
In that palace, Abhimaan Singh Rathore was not just a ruthless king. He was a father, a protector, a man who carried his family on his shoulders.
🌑 Two Worlds, One Destiny
While Ishika quietly placed a bowl of daal on the table at her home, being scolded for not adding “enough ghee,” Abhimaan ordered his men to bring Tarun Malhotra before him.
She whispered softly, “Bhagwan ji, bas ek din aisa aaye ki main kisi apne ke liye khana banaun… jo mere haathon ke swaad ko samjhe.”
At the same moment, Abhimaan stood by the palace window, gazing into the darkness.
“Kisi din…” he murmured under his breath, “kisi din meri zindagi mein bhi ek roshni aayegi. Jismein na dikhawa hoga, na jhooth… sirf sachcha pyaar.”
Unknowingly, at that very instant, their fates intertwined.
🌸 Closing Scene of Chapter 2
Back in the Malhotra house, Tarun barged in, face pale.
“maa, maa! Hukum Sa ne bulaya hai… Rathore Mahal mein!”
Palak dropped the spoon she was holding. Amit froze.
Ishika looked up, confused.
Tarun’s voice shook. “Aaj… aaj main khatam ho jaaunga. Hukum Sa mujhe zinda nahi chhodenge.”
And for the first time, Ishika’s innocent heart skipped a beat at a name she had never heard before.
Abhimaan Singh Rathore. Hukum Sa.
The king whose world she was about to enter.
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The Royal love ( Rewriting)
FanfictionThis story is about a royal man named Abhimaan Singh Rathore and a sweet middle class girl whose parents died when she was a kid and her uncle's aunty and cousins abused her. let's see how they both meet and fall in love.
