Rudra was adjusting the lamps.
"We can give money for lamps and thread… not for the brightness," she murmured.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing, Majesty."
"What do you think of me? Always talking under your breath."
"I think of you as my husband."
He pressed his palms together. "Enough. I am tired."
Rudra smiled lightly, thinking this was just the beginning.
Aarush noticed it—the soft glow of her face in the lamplight. She raised her eyes, sensing his gaze.
He observed her eyes, clearly defined in the light… and something else—something hidden behind her innocence.
She finished adjusting the lamps and removed her jewels.
Aarush lay on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, thinking about the case.
"Slave," he called, deliberately avoiding her name.
Rudra controlled her anger.
Truth is more important than your anger, Rudra.
"You called me, Majesty?"
"Is there any other slave here?"
"Tomorrow, you may come to the court." he added .
"Alright, Majesty."
Inviting a slave to the court…
She lay down on the floor to sleep.
Morning came.
This time, Aarush woke first and saw her. She was lying on her side, facing away from him, a small part of her waist visible. He immediately turned to the other side.
"She is definitely trying to seduce me," he thought.
She stirred and turned onto her back. Aarush took a cup of water and splashed it onto her face.
Her eyes fluttered open. She sat up, wiping her face, still adjusting to the light.
"Majesty… is anything wrong?"
"You are not a polar bear, to sleep all the time."
Yesterday he slept longer than I did… but that doesn't count, she thought.
"Pardon me, Majesty. It won't happen again," she said, while imagining throwing ashes on his face.
They got ready and went down for breakfast.
Tara's eyes burned as she watched them walk in together.
Rudra chose the seat beside the Queen Mother—the safest place. But the Queen Mother shifted away, forcing Rudra to sit between her and the King.
The servants began serving breakfast—soft rotis, lentils, and side dishes.
Rudra noticed it immediately.
Too much chilli.
A faint smile almost touched her lips.
So this is the game.
She picked up a piece of roti and dipped it into the curry. One bite.
Fire spread across her tongue.
She continued.
Second bite.
Her eyes did not water. Her expression did not change.
Across the table, Tara watched closely, waiting.
Now… she will react.
But Rudra calmly tore another piece and ate again.
Inside, her throat burned. Her fingers tightened into a fist beneath the table.
This is nothing.
She had eaten worse.
Meals forced on her. Spices meant to hurt, not flavour. Smiles hiding cruelty.
This was not new.
"Hey, servant!" Tara snapped. "Why are you staring? Serve more food to my sister. She must be very tired these days."
The maid stepped forward nervously with more curry.
Before she could serve, Rudra caught her wrist—firm, controlled, enough to make her freeze.
Rudra slowly released her.
"Thank you, sister," Rudra said gently. "This is enough for me. If I eat too much, I might feel sleepy…"
"What 'might'?" the Queen Mother interrupted. "You should eat more and rest more."
Rudra lowered her eyes, her voice soft, almost shy.
"Yes… but His Majesty does not let me sleep."
For a moment, the table fell silent.
Aarush choked.
Not from surprise—
but from the meaning behind her words.
He coughed harshly, his hand tightening around the cup as he reached for water. His eyes lifted to her immediately.
Rudra did not look at him.
She simply continued eating, calm, composed—as if she had said nothing improper.
Tara's expression hardened.
The Queen Mother stilled.
Aarush drank the water, still watching Rudra. There was no confusion in his gaze now—only a sharp awareness.
"I have a meeting with the ministers," he said abruptly, rising to his feet.
And he left.