Morning After the Flames
The sun rose timidly over Rathore Palace, but the golden glow could not wash away the stench of smoke that lingered in its corridors. Guards doubled their patrols, their boots echoing sharply on the marble floors. Every servant whispered in fear of another attack.
In her chamber, Ishika sat on the window sill, her dupatta fluttering in the morning breeze. She looked pale, her eyes heavy with sleeplessness. The fire had shaken her, but what truly pierced her heart was the threat Abhimaan had read aloud last night.
“Your queen is your strength and your greatest weakness.”
Her lips trembled. For the first time since entering the palace, Ishika wondered if she had become a burden.
Just then, a deep voice cut through her thoughts.
“Meri rani, tumhare chehre par yeh udaasi mujhe pasand nahi.”
She turned. Abhimaan stood at the door, dressed in a black angrakha embroidered with gold, his eyes burning with both protectiveness and worry.
“Maan…” her voice faltered. “Sab meri wajah se ho raha hai. Aap… aapko meri wajah se dushman mil rahe hain.”
He strode forward, cupping her face. “Nahi, Ishika. Dushman hamesha the. Tumne sirf meri zindagi ko rang diya hai. Tum meri kamzori nahi… meri taqat ho.”
Her tears spilled. She whispered, “Lekin unhone likha hai—”
He silenced her with a finger to her lips. “Unka har shabd jhooth hai. Tum meri rooh ho. Tum par aayi har chot, main apne sehle lunga.”
And for the first time, she hugged him first — clutching his chest like her only anchor.
⚔️ The Malhotras’ Entry
By mid-day, the palace gates clanged open. Guards rushed to announce the uninvited guests.
“Amit Malhotra, Palak Malhotra aur unka beta Tarun aap se milna chahte hain, hukum sa,” a soldier bowed.
The hall darkened as if clouds had swallowed the sun. Abhimaan’s jaw tightened, his brothers exchanging dangerous looks.
“Unhe andar lao,” Abhimaan ordered, his voice as sharp as a blade.
Moments later, Amit, Palak, and Tarun entered the royal durbar, their faces painted with false humility.
Palak sneered subtly at the grandeur. “Wah, kya rajwada hai. Lekin ek middle-class ladki ki wajah se isme aag lag gayi.”
Ishika, standing beside Anchal and Aditya, flinched.
Abhimaan’s eyes narrowed. “Zubaan sambhal kar baat karo. Tumhare muh se meri rani ka naam bhi aaya toh yeh zameen tumhara khoon pi jaayegi.”
Tarun smirked nervously, trying to look brave. “Hukum sa, hum bas ek rishte ki baat karne aaye hain. Aapke liye nahi, Ishika ke liye. Uske maata-pita ka sapna tha ki uski shaadi ek acche gharane mein ho. Humne ek ladka pasand kiya hai.”
The hall gasped. Ishika’s face went white.
Amit added cruelly, “Aur us sapne ko pura karne ke liye, usse yahan se nikalna hoga. Yeh aapki rani banne layak nahi hai.”
🌹 Ishika Breaks
Ishika’s hands trembled. The mention of her parents was a dagger. “Mere… maa-papa… ?”
Palak folded her hands dramatically. “Haan, beti. Tere maa-papa chahte the tu hamesha apne khandaan ke saath rahe.”
Tears blurred Ishika’s vision. For a moment, she faltered.
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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.
