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Baba had brought my stuff over from our palace in six large vintage Louis Vuitton trunks he had inherited from his grandfather, and they stood in the large sitting room of the suite.
“Your Highness, I will have your bags unpacked immediately if you pick a side of the closet,” he said, throwing open the door to the bedroom, and leading us to an enormous walk-in closet.
One-half of the room had been cleared out to make space for my stuff. I sighed in pleasure at the mental image of all my clothes and accessories spread out neatly around the closet.
“I’d like to see to it myself, Ramsingh, if you could spare some staff to help me organise my things tomorrow,” I replied.
He bowed and left, and Isha dragged me out of the closet.
“You cannot spend your wedding night in a walk-in closet,” she exclaimed, as she led me to the bed which was covered with flowers. “Now you wait here for Dheer like a good girl. And promise me you won’t climb out of the window.”
Padmini Aunty dragged her out of the room before she could tease me some more, and I paced around the room nervously as I waited for my new husband. Where the hell was he? The wait was killing me.
After about twenty minutes, Isha came to me, and my heart sank when I saw the expression on her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did Dheer tell you before he left?”
I sat down on the bed abruptly.
“He left? On our wedding night?”
I couldn’t believe he’d humiliate me like this.
“Of course, not! He didn’t leave! Not for good. He just went out for a drive, I think,” said Isha, sounding very unsure.
“A drive? At this hour? On his wedding night?”
I knew I sounded shrill, but I couldn’t help it. I had been obsessing about our wedding night for the past couple of days, but not even in my wildest dreams had I imagined that it would end like this. With a missing bridegroom.
Just then, there was a soft knock at the door, and I looked up to see Dheer walking into the room. My breath came in rapid, shallow puffs as he walked up to me.
“Where the hell have you been, Bhai Sa? Everyone was convinced you’d…”
Isha bit off the end of her sentence, but I knew what she was trying not to say.
Everyone was worried Dheer had abandoned me again. Just like last time.
“I had to do something, Isha. Something very important,” said Dheer, not taking his eyes off me.
“More important than your wedding night?” she asked with disbelief.
I was sure my eyes echoed her question even though I couldn’t get the words out.
“Isha… get out,” said Dheer sharply.
Isha gasped at his rudeness and swept out of the room, the picture of injured dignity.
I forced myself to rise as Dheer walked towards me.
But instead of putting his hands up to raise my veil, he pulled out his phone and showed me the picture of a man. I winced at the image. His face was bloodied and his nose was crooked. He stared blearily at the camera.
“Who is this?” I asked shakily, even though I already knew the answer.
“This is Manto Singh. The dead woman’s husband. Her name is Sheela Devi, and her husband has finally filed an FIR against Ayush Goel for killing her. I know you’re really upset with me, for leaving you alone on our wedding night, Diya, but I know you need closure on Sheela Devi’s death. And I wanted to bring you that as a wedding present.”
“Ohmigod! What did you do? And why the hell are your knuckles bloodied?” I shrieked in horror. “Did you beat a confession out of that man?”
