Ival_Nidhi_Writes
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Meenakshi strings flowers, yes, that's all she is, a flower girl. She is just a pair of hands in a palace that has never once looked down to see whose hands make the beauty it wears so carelessly.
She has watched the one everyone fears in the whole Mahishmati, Bhallaladeva, the Yuvaraj, from behind a pillar for years. She has counted his heartbeats from across a court hall, and she has chosen night-blooming jasmine for his wedding garland because it blooms only in the dark, and she has never met anything lonelier.
All she was supposed to do was hand the garland to the priest and disappear. Yes, that's all, but instead the crowd pushed the one wearing simple cotton clothes holding the garland as life, along with the priest who was blind and the stars which would not wait. And now she is locked in a ceremonial chamber until sunrise with a man the entire kingdom calls a monster, bound by sacred thread and the most beautiful garland she has ever made, the one she made for him, the one she poured her heart into without ever admitting why.
Now he is furious, and she is terrified, and the night is long, very long. And somewhere between the silence and the wine and the jasmine blooming deeper in the dark, the monster starts to crack.
Mature | Short Story | Valentine's Special