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“I’m sure she can, but she’s marrying me,” Dheer said firmly.
“Did the truck driver talk?” Veer asked.
Dheer shook his head.
“No, but I didn’t expect him to talk. The Goels know how to cover their tracks, Veer.”
“Will they get off so easily?” I demanded angrily. “You say they will back off after I marry you, but what about the woman Ayush killed? Will she get no justice?”
“We don’t know who she is, Diya. I have men making discreet enquiries in the villages around here, but the locals have clammed up because they know this is a volatile situation, and they don’t to be caught in the crossfire.”
“We have to keep trying,” I insisted, not wanting to give up so easily.
“We will,” promised Dheer. “And I’ll back you in whatever you want to do. You can testify against Ayush if that’s what you want to do.”
“Are you trying to get my sister killed?” yelled Veer, forcing himself out of the chair. “You have to forget about that woman, Diya. You can’t win against these men.”
“Diya will do exactly as she wants, and I will keep her safe,” Dheer replied, coming to stand next to me.
“But why? Why can’t the two of you drop this?”
“Because I know your sister, Veer. The regret of doing nothing will eat her alive, and I won’t let her get worn down by that regret.”
I stared at Dheer in disbelief as I realised that he had voiced exactly what I was feeling. He did understand me. But if he knew me so well, how could he not have known that I had loved him with all my heart nine years ago? Maybe he had known and not cared, I thought, hardening my heart against him. I had to take care not to be sucked into the vortex of falling in love with him again. This marriage was purely a business arrangement, and there was nothing romantic about it. Which brought me to a very important point.
“Veer, I need you to keep Ma on a strict leash until the wedding is over. She’s dreaming of a big, fat desi wedding, and I don’t want any of the hungama she’s planning. I flatly refuse to do a couple’s dance on a grand stage. It’s going to be a small wedding with no fuss,” I warned.
Before my brother could reply, Isha turned to me with a frown.
“You’re marrying the Maharaja of Trikhera, Diya. Dadi Sa will go up in smoke if you guys don’t follow all the traditions that come with the title.”
“I don’t care,” said Dheer. “It’s our wedding, not hers. We will create new traditions that match our thinking and beliefs. If Diya wants a small wedding, then that’s what she’s going to have.”
I tried to damp down the thrill that I felt when I heard him talk about our wedding. I hadn’t given it much thought but when I did think of it, I called it the wedding. But Dheer just made it way more personal by calling it ours. His and mine. Something that was the start of the silken ropes that bind a couple together.
I was going to slice through those ropes with a pair of garden shears, I told myself. Nine years ago, I was willing to do all of this. I was willing to perform all the rituals that came with our traditions and bind myself to Dheer, mind, body and soul like Fevicol ka majboot jod. But he had changed his mind. And he had done it so brutally that people still whispered about my humiliation in royal circles. If I let myself be taken in by his fancy words, I was laying myself open to that heartbreak and humiliation all over again. Because if he could change his mind once, what was to stop him from changing it again?
“What traditions did you create with your previous fiancée, Dheer?” I asked coldly.
I felt him tense next to me.
“Let’s leave Raksha out of this,” he said lightly. “That’s a closed chapter.”
I hated the very sound of her name. Especially when it came from his lips.
“Sure,” I replied with a shrug.
I had made my point. And I had spoiled his mood.
He could talk about happy ever after as if it were a bygone conclusion, but I wasn’t even willing to make him happy for now, forget ever after. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that I wanted to make him pay for the tears I had shed for him.
Maybe that was the one thing I would take away from this temporary marriage. The joy of inflicting as much pain on him as he had inflicted on me. I hadn’t realised I was such a vengeful little soul, but I quite looked forward to making Dheer sorry for his betrayal. He might be seeking redemption, but all I wanted was revenge.
“Isha, let’s go and see what our mothers are doing. I’m not going to let Ma bully me into wearing something hideous for the wedding,” I said, holding out a hand to her.
She took it and led me out of the room. But when the door closed behind us, she pulled me to a halt.
“What the hell are you doing, Diya?”
