The Vicious Love Of Royals (Politically Royal Love Collection Novella BOOK)

TVB - Bonus

DAHARTHYA

I nodded at the account book, being explained the numbers I am least concerned about, monetary gain could and would never become my trouble.
I can find a corner of the Mahal and would find only treasure.
And would find another corner, and find Rani-sa, Aka my goddess, Ahilya.

Who isn't in Mahal because her father, Joshil Rajadi is sick? I mandated my companionship for her moral support! But she is Ahilya.
Her words before leaving, while she had lost her one and only family member, who she loved.
“Man thinks their shoulders are built for keeping a woman's head when she cries, meanwhile it's only the man responsible for the tears!”
Her smugness remained in her words but her pain shadowed right on the phrase.

Though the real question here was to demean me.
The person who poisoned the healthy Joshil Rajadi was a Rajasthani,
She wouldn't blame but the goddess I know wouldn't even forgive.

She retraced her steps back in her state, Gujrat.
And following the intended attacker's lineage I was annulled to go Gujrat or any of my men.
She have gone there alone.

I know it is her family there, and she would be protected. But Joshil Rajadi was the master of the flock of birds they are,
He is going to die.

I shut the book, standing on my feet.
I twisted my position towards the exit door. Where I found Ekvarthya with his hidden from public eye woman on the grassland.

“Ekka!” I called him out, he raised his head, looked at me with narrowed eyes and retrieved back to his woman.
Sure motherfucker! Even ignore your king.

I didn't discontinue my pace and walked inside my room on the same floor as the office.
Opened my closet and safe, picking out money.
The small blade on my side in its place, and two blades underneath the kurta.

When done with the preparations. I leapt my way out of the room but halted before the bed. “I can risk even my empire for the safety of my queen. The demand now is fractional chants of hatred from Gujratis.
And to be honest, it was long due! From the day I won her on a bet.

~~~~~

AHILYA

Men. A constant disdain I feel on the mention if we particularly extract some of them.
And in the box of many cluttering crud grime of god's creation. The one who matters, are and would be victims of my devotion.  

Ahilya Rajadi, now, Ahilya Rajput's devotion.
And in the creation of those, my father remains one that I cherished with the purest form of hostility.

I might have now crowned for the Rajputs. But my first throne would always be my father's seer-aakh.

It hurts to amble down a step from a throne, you have raised on.
In the excruciating way of watching it crack and rupture right before your eyes.

Joshil Rajadi, my banknotes coerced father, had his eyes fluttering while combatting one more brawl of his life.
This time with death.

I held his hand down on the bed.
“Joshil,” I called the dying man. And he breathed out loud, before his attempt to open his eyes, halfway.
He saw my son sitting in my arm, with a weak smile.

And then raising his eyes on me. “You don't have even a tear, should I feel like a flunked,” He asked in broken words, I didn't respond just curled my hand tighter in his.

Who depicted a verbal form of confession as a pristine form of love.
Perhaps I can never speak in assertions but one can feel the conclusions in my gestures.
If they don't, there is a threshold in my gut, they can stay outside my crux.