As the evening drew to a close, Aryan escorted Shruti to the palace. When they arrived at the palace entrance, Aryan bid Shruti a gentle goodnight, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.
Shruti smiled back, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Aryan for being such a wonderful escort. She stepped inside the palace hall, expecting the warm glow of the chandeliers and the soft murmur of the palace staff.
Instead, she was met with a scene that made her heart sink. Her father, the king, was standing in front of her, his face thunderous with anger. Her mother, the queen, was standing beside him, looking worried and anxious.
Shruti's eyes darted between her parents, her mind racing with thoughts of what could have triggered her father's anger. She looked at her mother, hoping for some reassurance, but her mother's expression only added to her worry.
"Is it a deja vu?" Shruti murmured, her voice barely audible, as she felt a sense of dread wash over her.
Just as she was about to take a step closer to her parents, her father's angry voice boomed through the hall. "Where were you?" he demanded, his eyes blazing with fury.
Shruti swallowed hard, trying to calm her racing heart. "I...was with Aryan," she replied, her voice steady, but her hands trembling slightly.
Her father's expression darkened further. "And?" he growled, his voice dripping with disdain.
Shruti's eyes widened in confusion. "What do you...mean?" she asked, trying to stall for time.
But her father was having none of it. "Answer me first!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the marble floors.
Shruti shivered at the anger in his voice, feeling a cold dread creeping up her spine.
Meanwhile, outside the palace, Aryan was standing near the main door, talking on his phone. But as he heard the angry voice of Shruti's father, his expression changed. A concern etched on his face, he decided to go inside, feeling an overwhelming urge to protect Shruti from her father's wrath.
Inside the grand hall of the palace, Shruti stood frozen, her mind racing to come up with a response to her father's angry demand. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her palms were growing sweaty as she struggled to find the right words.
"Dad...did something happen?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to deflect attention from her own actions.
But before her father could respond, her mother stepped forward, her expression stern. "Shruti, don't lie to your dad," she said, her voice firm but laced with a hint of disappointment. "He knows you were with Siddharth."
Shruti's eyes widened in shock, and she felt a wave of panic wash over her. How did her parents find out? She had been so careful to keep her meetings with Siddharth a secret. She looked at her mother, then at her father, and saw the anger and disappointment etched on their faces. She knew she was in trouble.
"Didn't I tell you to stay away from him?" her dad thundered, his face red with rage.
"I told you he is just playing with you. He's doing all this to humiliate your father, just like his dad did." Her mom said.
Shruti's eyes flashed with defiance as she stood up to her parents. "Mom, Siddharth is not like that!" she exclaimed, her voice loud and clear.
But before she could continue, her father stepped forward, his hand raised to slap her. "You!" he growled, his eyes blazing with anger.
Just as all hope seemed lost, Aryan burst into the hall, his eyes flashing with determination. "Uncle!" he shouted.
Shruti's parents turned to face Aryan, their expressions a mixture of shock and outrage. Aryan walked calmly towards them, standing behind Shruti and placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"We'll explain everything to you," Aryan said, his voice calm and steady. "But please don't hit her."
Shruti's father's face turned purple with rage. "Are you out of your mind?" he spluttered. "She's your fiancee and she's going on dates with that brat. And you're supporting her?"
Aryan stood tall, his eyes flashing with conviction. "Uncle, they love each other. And I'm her best friend, before anything. I'm supporting her, no matter what!" he declared.
Shruti's father's eyes widened in shock, and then his face contorted with anger. "You brats have gone crazy!" he shouted. "You're humiliating your parents. How will we even face the world now?"
He collapsed onto the sofa, his face buried in his hands. Shruti's mother turned to Aryan, her eyes narrowed. "Aryan, does your dad know about this?" she asked.
Aryan nodded calmly. "Father knows everything. I told him everything."
He paused, a mischievous glint in his eye. "And I like someone else, anyway."
Shruti's parents' eyes widened in shock, their faces frozen in stunned silence. The room was filled with an awkward tension, as if the very foundations of their world had been shaken.
Aryan walked calmly towards his uncle, who was still seated on the sofa, his face red with rage. Aryan sat down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Uncle, Siddharth is really a good guy," Aryan said, his voice soft and soothing. "He really loves her."
But his uncle was beyond reason. He stood up angrily, his eyes blazing with fury. "I don't want to hear anything!" he thundered, his voice echoing off the marble floors.
With that, he stormed inside his room, slamming the door shut behind him. His wife, Shruti's mother, followed closely behind, her face etched with concern.
A heavy silence fell over the hall, the only sound the soft ticking of the grandfather clock. Aryan sighed, feeling a sense of frustration and helplessness.
He got up and walked towards Shruti, who was standing frozen, her eyes fixed on the door her parents had just disappeared behind. Aryan wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.
"Don't worry, we will convince them," he whispered, his voice filled with reassurance. "Just don't take too much stress, okay?"
Shruti nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Aryan. She hugged him back tightly, holding onto him for a moment.
Aryan pulled back, smiling softly at her. "I'm leaving now," he said. "But call me if anything happens. I'll be here."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Shruti to face the uncertainty of her future alone. She watched him go, feeling a sense of emptiness wash over her.
Then, with a heavy heart, she turned and made her way upstairs to her room, the silence of the palace echoing around her like a hollow shell.
Shruti sat at the window, staring out into the night, trying to calm her racing thoughts and soothe her frazzled nerves. The argument with her parents still lingered in her mind, and she couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach.
Just as she was starting to relax, she heard a soft knock on the door. She turned to see her maid, Isha, standing in the doorway with a concerned expression on her face.
Isha had been with Shruti since they were children, and the two had grown up together. Isha was the daughter of the head servant of the palace, and she had been appointed as Shruti's personal maid when she was just a little girl.
As a result, Isha and Shruti had formed a strong bond over the years, one that went beyond the traditional mistress-servant relationship. They were more like sisters, and Isha had always been there to offer Shruti comfort and support whenever she needed it.
In fact, Isha, Aryan, and Shruti used to play together as children, exploring the palace gardens and getting into all sorts of mischief. Those carefree days seemed like a lifetime ago now, but the friendship between the three had endured, even as they grew older and their lives took different paths.
Isha's eyes locked onto Shruti's, and she could see the turmoil brewing inside her. Without a word, Isha walked over to Shruti and wrapped her in a warm hug. "What happened, didi?" she asked, using the affectionate term for "older sister" that she had always used to address Shruti.
As Isha wrapped her arms around Shruti, the dam burst, and Shruti's eyes filled with tears. She buried her face in Isha's shoulder, letting out a sob that had been building up inside her. Isha held her close, patting her shoulder lightly in a gentle, comforting motion.
For a while, Shruti just cried, letting out all the pent-up emotions and frustrations that had been bottled up inside her. Isha held her, offering a silent, supportive presence that seemed to absorb some of Shruti's pain.
As the minutes ticked by, Shruti's sobs gradually subsided, and she began to calm down. Isha continued to hold her, offering a comforting warmth that seemed to seep into Shruti's very bones.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shruti pulled back, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from crying. Isha handed her a handkerchief, and Shruti blew her nose, feeling a little more composed.
The two friends sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall. Then, Shruti spoke, her voice still shaky but determined.
"I don't know what to do, Isha," she said, her eyes welling up with tears again. "Dad is just not listening to me."
Isha's face was a picture of calm, reassuring confidence. "Everything will be fine, didi," she said, using the affectionate term for "older sister" that she had always used to address Shruti. "Aryan bhaiya is with you, after all."
Isha's words were like a balm to Shruti's frazzled nerves. She felt a surge of gratitude towards Isha and Aryan, who had always been there for her, supporting her and encouraging her to follow her heart.
Shruti and Isha talked for a while, discussing everything that had happened the previous night. After a soothing conversation, Isha bid Shruti a good night and left the room, leaving Shruti to her thoughts.
Shruti tried to sleep, but her mind was racing with worries and fears. She couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach. She lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, her thoughts consumed by the argument with her parents and the uncertainty of her future with Siddharth.
The next morning, Shruti woke up feeling tired and drained. She sat on her bed, her eyes fixed on the floor, when suddenly her phone rang. She looked at the screen and saw Siddharth's name flashing on the display. Her heart skipped a beat as she quickly picked up the call.
"Shruti?! Are you okay?!" Siddharth's voice came from the other side, filled with concern and worry.
"I just got a call from Aryan. And he told me about everything that happened last night. Shruti are you mad? Why didn't you tell me anything? Why did you beared it all alone?" He added.
Shruti's voice trembled as she replied, "Siddharth."
At her almost crying voice, Siddharth went quiet, his heart filled with pain as he realized that Shruti must have cried. "Did you cry?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle.
There was silence on the other end of the line, and Siddharth's concern grew. "You cried, didn't you?" he asked again.
Shruti's voice was barely audible as she replied, "A little."
Siddharth sighed, feeling a pang of sadness and helplessness. "Can we meet?" he asked, eager to see Shruti and comfort her.
But Shruti was hesitant. "I don't think we can," she said, her voice laced with worry.
Siddharth's determination kicked in. "Should I come over? I'll talk to your dad," he said, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
But Shruti was firm. "Are you mad?! He's very angry right now. Who knows what he'll do," she said, her voice filled with fear.
Siddharth's heart ached at the thought of Shruti being hurt or scared. "I can't see you like this," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "Just thinking about it, that you cried, breaks my heart."
There was a minute of silence on the line, and then Shruti spoke up. "Do you think my dad will accept our relationship?" she asked, her voice laced with doubt.
Siddharth's response was immediate and confident. "He will," he said. "I'll make him accept."
Hearing Siddharth's words made Shruti feel a sense of ease wash over her. She felt a glimmer of hope that everything would work out in the end.
Just then, she heard a knock on the door. "Siddharth, I'll talk to you later," she said, hastily hanging up the phone.
"Come in," she called out, expecting Isha to enter with her breakfast.
And indeed, Isha emerged from the door with a tray of breakfast, a concerned expression on her face. "Eat something, didi," she said, placing the tray on the bed.
But Shruti wasn't hungry. "I'm not hungry, Isha," she said, shaking her head.
Isha tried to convince her to eat something, but Shruti was firm. After a few minutes of trying, Isha left the tray and exited the room, leaving Shruti to her thoughts once again.
Shruti spent the entire day cooped up in her room, unable to muster the energy to go downstairs for lunch. As the hours ticked by, she felt a sense of listlessness wash over her, her mind consumed by thoughts of Siddharth and the uncertainty of their future together.
As the evening drew in, Shruti heard a knock on the door. She expected it to be Isha, arriving with the dinner tray. "Isha, I told you I'm not hungry," she said, without even bothering to look up.
But there was no response. Shruti turned to see who was at the door, and her eyes widened in surprise as she saw her father standing in the doorway.
"Dad?" she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
Her father walked towards her, his expression unreadable. He sat down beside her on the bed, and the two of them sat there in silence for a moment.
Shruti's mind was racing with thoughts of what her father might say. She had expected him to try and convince her to leave Siddharth, to use emotional manipulation to get her to do what he wanted. But what he said next was completely unexpected.
"Call him over tomorrow," he said, his voice firm but calm.
Shruti's eyes widened in shock. "Huh?" she said, unsure of what she was hearing.
Her father's expression was serious. "Tell him that I want to meet him."
At first, Shruti couldn't understand what her father was saying. Was he really agreeing to meet Siddharth? She felt a surge of hope and excitement.
"If he will prove that he is worthy of marrying you, then I'll meet his dad," her father said, his eyes locked on hers.
Shruti couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had thought it would be impossible to convince her father to accept Siddharth, but now it seemed that it might actually be possible.
She felt a wave of gratitude and love towards her father, and she threw her arms around him in a tight hug. "Thank you, dad!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with emotion.
Her father patted her head, a small smile on his face. "We'll see," he said, before standing up and leaving the room.
Shruti was left sitting on the bed, feeling stunned and elated. She couldn't wait to call Siddharth and tell him the news.
