Chapter 6

Those ocean blue eyes and the way they set upon her face, churned Matsyaa's insides in unfamiliar uneasiness. Deep orbs, confined in even darker rings made them look like there was an entire universe behind those curly lashes with stars and moons. It was surreal. Especially when his eyes had a language of their own. They spoke of authority, dominance, and intimidation to some degree. 

Matsyaa wasn't able to forget them. His piercing stare was etched in her memory and her heart began to drum the same nervous rhythm when she thought about him. She looked down at her soaked hands and remembered the electrifying touch. He was burning, or was it his normal heat? 

‘Whatever it is, he was too proud to be on his knees. He pushed me twice. He looked at me like a creep, and his guard was equally disrespectful!’ She shrugged, deciding to put this episode past her mind. It was useless anyway. It wasn't like she was going to see him again. 

Heaving a deep sigh, she rubbed her arms and clutched Prem's jacket around her tightly. The AC was closed, therefore they'd kept the windows open and the hot loo was drying her hair, making them sway in all directions. She pushed them out of her face and mumbled to herself, "How do people tolerate him?" 

"Hmm?" Prem turned to her from his iPad and covered his mouth with his fist. Matsyaa looked at him over his shoulder and rolled her eyes. He'd been doing this since they sat in the car. His shoulders would quack and he would look out the window, making no attempts to talk to her. 

"If you're laughing, do it openly. I don't want you to die because laughter gassed inside of you," She threw a disgusting look at him and grunted. Prem put his iPad aside and howled into a maniac fit, rolling and slapping his thigh like he was trying hard to control his laughter. 

"Pig!" Matsyaa landed a few punches on his arms which didn't affect him. She puffed her face and sulked in the corner, crossing arms over her chest. Prem controlled himself after a while, wiping the corner of his eyes. Some of the chuckles still left his mouth, "But, how did he knock you? Like… how couldn't you see him? Feel him?"

Matsyaa nipped her inner cheeks. Even she didn't know how she couldn't feel him, her coach would be so disappointed in her if he knew that she let a cucumber lemon scent wash all over her before she could finally hear the footsteps. If Ranvijay didn't have an overbearing aura, she wouldn't have felt the goosebumps on her skin and never noticed him. 

"You called him 'Sir'. Why? Do you know him?" She asked Prem, out of the blue. Prem nodded slowly and focused back on his iPad, "Yes. He is the crown prince of Amergarh. Why do you think I let him go without punching his face for hurting you?"

"Aww!" Matsyaa made a puppy face and scooted to him, bushing her eyebrows in curiosity. "So, you said he's a prince? In a democratic republic?"

"Hmm." Prem confirmed her doubts distractedly which made her more confused and she creased her forehead, "How's that possible?"

Prem sighed, finally glancing at her. "Well, it is. The kings were stripped off their titles but not their status. They don't have an active political role but they do manage day-to-day affairs of the people in their titular reign. They act as the symbol of royal heritage by preserving pride, unity and a sense of security." 

"But they're not leaders." She countered, "So how can they interfere in the administration of their so-called reign?" 

"They are leaders. Not all of them but most of them?" He shrugged, finding the debate actually interesting. Stroking his jaw, he tried to explain. "It's a choice for them if they wanna be a part of the system, but their influence remains the same. All of them have immense power and people backing them up. Especially Ranvijay!"

"Look at this!" He showed his iPad to her after typing something and scrolling the pictures, "These are the pics of his crowning ceremony."

Matsyaa was astonished to find Ranvijay sitting on a throne in a durbar, wearing a million dollar pearl sherwani and a printed red turban on his head. There were so many people standing in the line beside him with their hands folded before them, donned in traditional kurta pajamas and a turban on their head. The only difference between their turbans were Ranvijay's had a feathery broach. 

"He owns space in Wikipedia!" She exclaimed, tapping open the page and poring over his notable details. She witnessed photos of him with politicians, some on the polo field, some from the durbar during ceremonies and one with his entire family. Wikipedia called him 'the royal bachelor'. Owner of JR Group; the leading empire of hotel chains and heritage resorts, he was also acclaimed for his charities. 

Matsyaa was overwhelmed to know his identity. She handed the tab back to Prem and silently turned to the window. Her thoughts were all over the place. Ranvijay had put on a faux smile on every photograph; one that needed to be shown to the media. But, when she recalled his face that she'd personally seen. She realized his smile was different; it reached to his eyes. 

His eyes! Those magical pools of mystery! 

It sent chills down her spine, "So, he's the next king?" She asked and raised an eyebrow, "And, he lives in the palace?" 

"Yes." 

"Wow!" Matsyaa drew out a breath, putting her chin on her folded arms. "Since he has a glorious life, he won't know the pain of losing a camera."

Prem chuckled and she joined him, clearing her mind. Their car drove into the mansion and Matsyaa climbed out, shivering. She sneezed as she entered the home, clutching her hands around herself. Once Gauri saw her, she gasped and stood up from the couch, "God! What has happened to you, Matsyaa?" 

"Ranvijay Singh Raghuvanshi happened to her, Aunt." Prem answered, coming behind Matsyaa and grinned. Matsyaa twisted her lips, sneezing again. "I'm going to change."

Gauri nodded, pushing her slightly towards the corridor and Matsyaa heard Prem telling everyone about the accident. By the time she reached her room, her family was hollering in laughter. 

***

Bhushan opened the car door for Ranvijay and sat on the passenger seat, indicating the driver to move. He began to summarize the events to Ranvijay who had just returned from Germany after attending the conference. "The client visited the land a day before. He liked it and was willing to buy it soon. I was waiting for your permission to call the attorney to sketch the contract."

"Okay! Get on it. We shouldn't waste more time. The land is actually labor oriented. We need to sell it to the contractor. I don't want more troubles," Ranvijay replied, working his fingers on the laptop and pushing off his suit jacket beside him. "Anything else?"

Bhushan hesitated and cleared his throat, "Kabeer informed that Prince Vikram was attacked." Ranvijay's fingers paused and he slanted his gaze at Bhushan, "Where?" 

"Singrauli. But, nothing serious about that. It was purely an accident. Some robbers, that's all. Prince tackled it already and someone helped him." 

"Who?" 

"Princess Jigyaasa!"

"Jigyaasa!" Ranvijay muttered in confusion and frowned. "What was she doing there?"

"We don't know, Hukum." 

Ranvijay sighed, nodding. "Okay. I hope everything's fine. If Raghvendra is not involved, that's a relief. What about the other things?"

"On it, Hukum. The girl who met us in the University isn't an ordinary person. Her name is Matsyaa Rathore. She is the only daughter of Anup Rathore — the chairman of Rathore Industries." Upon Matsyaa's mention, all the other thoughts flew away from his mind and he concentrated on what Bhushan was telling him. "They lived in England and have recently shifted into India after the death of her uncle Ashish Rathore." 

"What about her life in England? Friends?" Ranvijay kept his words curt but Bhushan got the drift that he wanted to know about her love interest. "She is a final year student of Archeology. And, in her friends, none particularly caught my eyes. Miss Rathore seems to be a very private person." 

Ranvijay nodded, turning his head to look outside through the tinted windows, the night sky was silent and clear with stars twinkling. He couldn't keep Matsyaa off his head since he'd seen her. She was always revolving in his mind; making her presence during his busy hours. Attending the two days conference was a tough task for him when her glares, her lips and her smile kept him hanging. 

He just wanted to see her again. How? He had no idea. 

His eyes struck out on the canopy of trees progressing with each mile as he entered his territory and the car followed a round path before stopping in front of the Haveli gates. It was his private life, packed with security and protocols. He longed for the sparkle, romping and carefree laughs but living a life that restricted him from exhibiting his emotions only made him stone. 

Not everyone got the freedom of tasting the sweetest form of life. He stepped out of the car and padded inside his domain. The guards nodded at him, following him in and servants rushed to attend him. He handed his suit jacket to one and his office bag to another before working to tug his tie loose. Sitting on the couch, he rubbed his face. "Ask Rao ma to prepare dinner and send it to my room."

The servant immediately complied with his demand. Bhushan stood there for a moment, waiting to receive any order but when nothing came, he took his leave after bidding night and Ranvijay sprawled on the couch, closing his eyes. He was extremely tired to think anything but Matsyaa wasn't leaving him alone. Her face popped up whenever he closed his eyes.

He opened his eyes with a snap and sat up, bracing his palms beside him. "God! Why are you disturbing me so much, Matsyaa? I can't let you enter my life. You'll be tainted by its darkness. Don't make me selfish!"

He looked around the silent mansion and felt the void. Those walls craved for someone — someone who could paint them, someone who could make the dining table lively, someone who could fill each corner with laughter and someone who could light up the gloomy darkness. 

Except it was going to be too hard for that someone. That's the magic of palaces, as much as they pull you with their beauty, they have the ruthlessness to kill you with their history. The walls had seen the secrets and the air had felt it all. 

Ranvijay rose to his feet and padded to his suite, peeking off his shirt on the way. He stripped and stood under the shower to relax his mind. Warm water started pelting over his built back and he pressed a palm on the glass wall, leaning his head down to let the water trace his jawline. 

Another concern settled in his mind; he trusted Sumitra Devi with Vikram's security but what if she hated him the same way she hated Ranvijay? He wasn't sure that she wouldn't dare to hurt him. And Raghvendra was never the one to be taken lightly. 

'I need to take the matter into my own hands.' He decided, swiping his hair back and raising his face up. Water freely splashed over his face and washed down his sides, letting him stay in the shower until his dry soul moistened. Matsyaa, for a change, went to the back of his mind as his brother's security dominated his thoughts.