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“Not until we’ve met some men,” she teased, and I glared at her in response.
“No fucking way! I’m not in the market for men.”
She sighed and set her glass down on the nearest available surface, which happened to be a marble elephant that looked like it had got butt implants.
“Princess Diya Sisodia, can you please stop with the Meena Kumari attitude? If you’d stop playing the tragedy queen for one minute, you’d see that life is passing you by. You’re almost thirty and you haven’t dated anyone since… well, since you-know-what. And if you don’t snap out of it, you’re going to be alone for the rest of your life.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“Well, for once your mother and I are on the same page,” she shot back. “You need a man.”
“I have a vibrator. That’s much better than a man,” I informed her loftily.
“A vibrator won’t love you, Diya. Not like a man will.”
“Men don’t love you, Isha. They just use you and throw you away,” I reminded her bitterly.
She put a hand on my arm and squeezed it lightly.
“Not every man is like my stupid brother, Diya. Dheer didn’t deserve you. But I promise you that one day, you will meet a man who will see you for the amazing woman that you are.”
Just then, my mother approached us with a tall, sour-faced middle-aged woman trailing after her unwillingly.
“Alka Ji, please allow me to introduce my daughter, Princess Diya Kumari. And this is her friend, Princess Isha Shekhawat. Girls, I’m sure you’ve heard of Alka Goel, who is an industrialist and philanthropist.”
Of course, I’d heard of the mining Goels. Who hadn’t? I forced a polite smile and greeted the sour-faced woman. But she was staring at Isha warily.
“Shekhawat? Is she the princess of Trikhera?” she asked sharply and a little rudely, considering that Isha was standing right in front of her.
Isha shot her a strained smile and nodded.
“Randheer Shekhawat’s sister?” spat the rude lady, and I stiffened at her tone.
Hearing anyone mention Dheer was difficult for me even after so many years, but there was something in her voice. A curious mix of anger, hatred and… fear. Why was this woman afraid of Dheer?
“Yes, I am,” replied Isha, raising her chin proudly.
What was that about, I wondered.
Alka Goel turned to my mother angrily.
“I didn’t know your daughter associates with the likes of the Trikheras,” she said coldly, and I bristled at her tone.
Apart from the fact that the Trikheras were as blue-blooded as they came, Isha and I were closer than sisters. Also, why was this upstart looking down on Isha’s family? Who even knew about the Goels before they paid their way into high society by hosting flashy parties and weddings? The Trikheras were an ancient royal family with a lineage that went back to the times of Maharana Pratap.
“Isha is my best friend,” I said defiantly, although I didn’t owe her an explanation.
“Hmph,” she replied, but before I could put the nasty cow in her place, a man approached us with a weaselly smile.
“You must be Diya. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, putting out his hand.
I took it hesitantly because I didn’t want to give my mother any ideas.
“Diya, this is Alka Ji’s son, Ayush,” she said, with a wide smile that made me uncomfortable as hell.
“Nice to meet you,” I said faintly, but before I could introduce him to Isha, Ayush sneezed in my face and I recoiled in horror.
“Come along, Ayush. There’s a bit of a draft here. I don’t want you to fall sick,” said his mother, pulling him away determinedly.
