ENCHANTED - BY INNOCENCE (ongoing)

89

Hi lovelies, this chapter has 4500 words and ends with a question. Make sure you read till the end ❤️

*** Vishnu Gupta ***

I looked at the herbs I found inside the bag that the King had brought and compared them with the ones described in the scriptures.

They looked exactly identical.

"How did he even manage to bring them back?" I whispered to myself, astonished.

According to the scripture, finding the herbs was no big deal — but bringing them back was another story. The text read, "The herbs are so potent that they are capable of changing destiny, and changing destiny comes at a cost. Only one in a million is capable of bringing them back, and more often than not, the prize is accompanied by brutal consequences."

"It sure did," I muttered, placing the scripture down. My gaze drifted back to the herbs as the memory of my wife's pain resurfaced, and my heart ached, begging me to take just a few strands home.

Dheera had gone to supervise the search for the Western man. The King was unconscious. No one around would know. And besides... the King had brought back far more than what was needed anyway. It wouldn't make a difference to the Queen if I took a couple of strands — but for Kusuma, it would mean the world. Perhaps she might bear a child. Perhaps she would smile again... want to live again. Our home would finally be filled with laughter.

My fingers almost reached out, trembling, ready to snap off a few strands — but I stopped myself.

"No. This isn't me. I cannot do this," I whispered, forcing myself to step back. I gathered the herbs carefully, returned them to the bag, and placed it on a secure shelf. Just as I turned to check on the King once again, a soft knock echoed on the door.

"Your Highness," I said in surprise as I opened it and found the Queen standing there, tears glistening in her eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice breaking. "Where is my husband?"

"Your Highness, you shouldn't be here at this—"

"Vishnu sir, please answer my question first," she interrupted, desperation quivering in her tone. "Where is my husband? Is he safe?"

"He..." I hesitated. "He is safe, Your Highness. Nothing to worry."

"Thank God," she whispered. "Where is he?"

Unconscious, beaten, and locked up just a few feet away from where you're standing...

How was I supposed to say that to a grieving wife?

"Your Highness..." I lied reluctantly, "He was... uh... the General..." I cleared my throat, trying to sound composed. "The General caught him sneaking out again and was very angry this time, so he... punished him with a week of confinement — away from you."

"A week of confinement?" she repeated in disbelief. "My husband agreed to it?"

"Well," I said carefully, "he definitely wasn't happy about it, but—"

"No, no," she shook her head, tears welling again. "There's no way he would agree to that. He can't stay away from me. He agreed to study medicine just so he wouldn't have to leave me for three days. For him to agree to—"

"He didn't agree, Your Highness," I interrupted softly. She fell silent. "He didn't agree," I repeated. "He protested... with all his strength, and I'm sure he still would. But punishments don't ask for consent, do they?"

She looked at me, tears spilling freely down her cheeks.

"The General," I continued, eyes downcast, "was stubborn this time. Given that the King went to the forest once again — an absolute disregard for his own security — the General wanted to ensure the punishment was as harsh as it could be. And nothing could be harsher for the King than being kept away from his wife."