A loud shattering sound greeted Duryodhan,  the moment he marched in his room.

A smirk tracing his lips. His spit fire of a wife, was throwing another tantrum, he wanted to laugh.

"HOW DARE SHE?!!!!!!" He heard her roar, a sigh passed through his lips.

Annoyance sparkling in his chest. He loved Pauravi to no end, but at times her tantrums were mind numbing for him too.

But, he loved her just the same, her good and bad sides, all at once.

He maybe a selfish person, but Pauravi and Bhanumati, were his love. One, that he was crazily intoxicated to.

They were his drug, and he was the addict.

Walking in he was greeted with the sight of a cluster of women, standing on the sidelines, terror setting heavily in the air.

The room, like he expected was a mess. The light blue curtains were torn, mirrors in the room were shattered.

Furniture over turned, shattered glasses and broken stuff littered the ground.

He rolled his eyes, not again.

"Arya!" His head snapped towards his right, hearing the terrorized voice of his younger bride.

A frown marred his face.

His heart clenched at the sight ahead of him, dressed in softest of silk, and finest of jewelleries, she still managed to look simple and elegant.

Gracious without trying.

Bhanumati always managed to knock his breath out.  He felt the other women rush out of his chamber,  partly relived at his arrival.

Pauravi's tantrum, were nothing new. But the terror on Bhanumati's face was.

Walking ahead, he wrapped his arms around his Bhanumati,  embracing her crying form.

Agony thrummed in his heart, wrath wrecking a havoc in his chest. He wanted blood, preferably of the person who made her cry.

One thing, that everyone knew about him was, that he loved his two wives fiercely.  So much, as tear in their eyes, and prince Duryodhan of Hastinapur,  wouldn't hesitate to slay.

"A..Arya...ji..jiji." She hiccups, fear tainting her voice, making it quiver.

"Shhh..love." He soothed, his voice softest than anything before,  while he rubbed her back up and down.

One thing he hated the most was seeing tears in Bhanumati's eyes. Where Pauravi was fierce, and arrogant. His youngest bride was probably the most kindest being in the world.

He loved the two differently, yet, both were just as important to him. Fury blazed in him, he watched, Pauravi wrap her hand around another vase.

"PAURAVI!!!" He roared,  his anger had the woman in question freezing. She turned,  blinking once, than twice. .

As if finally realising his presence. There was something  different about her today.

Unlike her usual tantrums, today she seemed distant. Almost,  like her soul had abandoned her body.

The mind numbing wrathful haze cleared, for what seemed like eons later.  Gazing at the furious gaze of her husband,  to the scared eyes of Bhanumati.

Pauravi realised her surroundings.

"Arya.." She began but was cut shortly by her husband,  "You better freaking have a good reason to make her cry. A hundred times I have told you,  I don't care what you do with whom,  but Bhanumati stays out of your twisted games!" He snapped, picking the later in question in arms, and carrying her to the bed.

Crunching sound filled the air, shattered glass turned powder under his weight. Marching across the room, he sat his second wife, down on the bed.

Clinging to him, she still sobbed.

Breaking his heart to even finer pieces. 

"Shh love, it's alright. I have got you. See, Pauravi is fine too." He cooed, his voice a sharp contrast to how he spoke to his first wife.

His eyes spitting fire, while he glared at her. Usually by now,  where Pauravi would run by his side, and apologize profoundly,  today he watched shocked as she stood still.

Dried tear tracks marring her beautiful face.

He kept his face blank.

"Pauravi." Calling out her name, seemed to snap her out of her stupor, a tear tracked down her cheek.

She gazed at him, devastated.

Blinking furiously, but the treacherous tears trailed down her rosy cheeks.

His heart clenched,  worry bubbling in his chest. He hated seeing her this broken and lost.

He was used to his fierce wife, throwing tantrums, and bossing her way around.  Not, this broken shell of a woman that was gazing back at him.

His chest ached, he wanted nothing more than to embrace her. Kiss her senseless, till the agony was nothing but a distant memory in her mind.

"She is more beautiful than me. She is more alluring." Her voice had grown distant.

Lost.

The utter brokeness on her face, was shattering.

He frowned, confusion filling through him.

What the heck was she talking about?

"How can she be more beautiful than me?!" She roared, slamming her hand in the nearest of mirror. 

Her fury surprising the hell out of him, one moment she was lost, another, she was lunging at the mirror, like a crazed woman, slamming her fist in it.

It shattered under her assault. Her face a complete mask of an insane fury, breathing heavily.

His heart clenched, he lunged towards his wife. Bhanumati whimpered, tears dropping down her eyes rapidly.

She couldn't lose Pauravi,  she was her best friend,  her sister. Agony, splayed in her heart, it was breaking, making her cry harder.

Oh god kill her, but let Pauravi live. She was a sister that Bhanumati never had.

She couldn't lose her!

"PAURAVI!!" He roared in concern, marching up towards her, the fine pieces of the mirror cut through her delicate smooth skin.

An expression of utter insanity had masked her features, dark kajal smeared down her cheeks, marking the tracks of her tears.

His heart clenched sharply. What the hell had happened to break his wife so much?

He knew how Pauravi's psychotic father had made her believe that she was only ever good because of her beauty. 

That if someone more beautiful than her, ever was born, than she'll be good as nothing.

So far, she had never had to worry, for she was the most beautiful, until Panchaali was born. . .

The realization hit like a bolt of thunder, nearly knocking his breath out.

Damn it.

He mentally cursed, he had done everything to keep the news of her birth away from Pauravi,  for he knew her insecurities that her abusive father drilled in her head would come knocking right up.

Everything was fine.

Till the damn Pandavas had to ruin everything,  and get married to the one woman, in the entire universe,  whose presence Duryodhanhad kept hidden from his first bride. 

He loved her too much, and he feared the news would snap her again, in her insane haze of being suicidal.

Pauravi though fierce, was broken beyond measure, and he had done everything to heal her.

But you cannot wash out twenty years of abuse, in a year or two. He regretted killing her fathe so easily.

If he could, he would revive the bastard again,  and kill him a hundred times more.

A year of torture wasn't enough, that rapist had raped his own daughter. He growled, his hands fisting.

The world had told him to not marry her, for she wasn't "pure". But, did he care?

Of course not. She was his, he loved her more than his next breath. He was a sinner,  true, he never denied that.

But, a part of him was human too.

And what made him human, was Pauravi and Bhanumati.  Cousins by heart,  sisters by soul, bestfriends by choice, but the most important of all, loves of his life.

"She is more beautiful than me. How can she be?" He heard her repeat, her voice almost distant, and in an trance.

He blinked out of the dark abysses of the past, gazing at his wife. Her broken self surfacing again.

The girl that he had freed from the twenty years of dungeon life, seemed to surface again.

Locked away from the world, deprived of everything. Tortured for life.

Hence, he made the decision of spoiling her rotten, her every wish no matter how wrong, he gave in.

There wasn't a thing, he ever denied her.

The mask of rudeness, that his broken wife wore was too perfect for some to understand. 

But he saw right through it.

The walls she had built were too high, not to keep anyone out, but to protect whatever that was left in.

"Don't come closer!" She shouted,  her eyes flaring up in anger, while she picked up a sharper piece of a glass. Pointing it on her wrist.

His heart nearly stopped,  dread sinking it's ugly claws in his chest.

He froze, his eyes widening, as he raised his hands sideways in surrender.

"Babygirl listen to me. Everything is fine. Come here, and I promise I'll fix everything. " He cooed, glancing wairly at the sharper edge of the glass  and her wrist. 

Concern pooled in the pit of his stomach, making him gulp, oh god,  not again. He inched closer, coaxing her.

Huge tears flowed down her cheeks,  while she shook her head, long dark curls wiping around like snakes.

"My queen." He crooned, his throat burning, his eyes stung, dread hit his stomach like a punch.

No, he couldn't lose her.

"If you come closer,  I'll kill myself!" She roared in half insane state. Her eyes wide, and alert, tears raining down, as she licked her dried cracked up lips.

She looked like a terrified animal surrounded by predators. It had been two years, two years, since he last saw her in this state.

He had promised himself to never, ever make her feel this threatened,  yet fate just had to fuck up his plan.

Like always.

 He didn't care what she looked like, he loved her just the same, over and over, he had told her this, yet here they were.

His heart quivered,  at the thought of losing her, he would surely go insane without his wife.

Losing anyone of them, would be worse than death. Gazing at Pauravi, he felt like a failure, he had failed to protect his little nymph.

He had failed to keep his promise, of never making her cry.

"Let it go Pauravi!" He shouted, desperation clawed in his chest, he wanted her away from that sharp jagged glass, fear gripped his heart in a vice grip.

He wanted to tug his hair out, helplessness crushed him, breaking him into so many finer pieces that thinking straight was proving to be a task impossible. 

"Jiji no!" Cried Bhanumati, she rushed beside Duryodhan. Terror weaved in the room, it's pungent smell gutting the eldest Kaurav.

He couldn't lose her, he loved her too much to lose her.

"Listen to me love, whatever it is, we will discuss. I promise, I'll solve each of your issues. Drop it, love. Come to me." He coaxed, his eyes, gazing wearily at her bleeding hand.

Thick ruby liquid tracing down her soft white palm, to the pristine white floor.

Agony, fear and anger formed a deadliest cocktail of emotions in him.

His heart roiling with a terror, he couldn't word.

Memories, of her cries from the dungeon unfurled in his mind, it was the darkest time of his life.

One that he wished to erase. To protect his girl from all the cruelty.

"No, Arya. No matter, what I'll do, I'll never be as pretty as her. The whole world sings the praises her beauty, I was the most beautiful till she snatched it away from me! How could she?!" She cried,  her heart out, agony masking her words.

It was her father speaking through her mouth, he just knew it.

If he could,  he would kill that rapist, a hundred times.  Disgusting motherf*cker had died too early.

But, than again,  he wished to burn the entire world down to ashes.  For the society was more cruel to the victim rather than the criminal.

"She must have worn provoking clothes."

"Oh she is impure, and only fit to be a slut."

"Oh she is suicidal. Are you insane for marrying her? She has mental issues you should just drop her."

And on it went.

He was one of the ignorant man, who didn't think rape was much of a crime, until it was his Pauravi that suffered it.

Now, he hated even the thought of a rapist, of ensuing such agony on anyone. How was it Pauravi's fault? He could never understan.

And how was she impure? Because he forced her? Had it happened with another man would people think the same?

Protecting her from the taunts, had been more difficult. He didn't care if she had mental issues, he didn't care if she was raped, he loved her.

And nothing could change that. They suggested, he make her the second wife,  for she would be unfit to be a queen.

He revoked, he fought hard. Pauravi was just as much pure as any woman out there, she deserved just as much love, as any other.

She was his queen, and shall forever remain. His first wife. His queen.

"You're still the most beautiful.  I love you baby. Come to me, I swear, you are the most beautiful specimen to walk on this planet for me, love.

I worship the ground you walk on. Drop that thing, and come here." He begged, exposing his heart to her.

He knew she was there, somewhere in that dark haze.

The mighty Duryodhan, who never bowed, and would do anything to satisfy his ego; broke.

He broke for her.

And he broke hard.

He loved her.

For he knew, under all this pretense what a beautiful soul she was.

Under all the anger and arrogance,  was the scared little girl, who wanted nothing more than love and acceptance. 

The society made her bitter, as they taunted and blamed her. Called her names, when in complete honesty she was just a broken person seeking love.

And this made Duryodhan hate the world all the more, what was the point of doing  righteousness when people here were so barbaric?

Doing good for society never interested him, because this very society broke the woman of his heart.

This very society made his father give up his rightful right over the throne. This very society taunted him for being a blind man's son.

This very society limited him from being the king, because he was born second?

How was any of it his fault? How was any of it Pauravi's fault?

No one is born a sinner, the society molded them to be.

And he was a proud one.

Broken children, and shattered souls, are like shattered glass, they themselves are broken, and their sharp edges cut everyone who dared to come closer.

For they fear getting hurt more.

His heart clutched gazing at her, he couldn't lose her.

"No! Arya no! She took it away from me! It was my right to be the most gorgeous! My right! How could she? I, no longer wished to live!" She announced,  her voice dead.

Duryodhan's heart nearly tripped in terror, his breath leaving his body, it felt like for a moment his soul had abandoned him.

"Jiji! Stop or I will kill myself!" Bhanumati cried on the other side of the room, their heads snapped towards Bhanumati, he gazed at his second wife, who stood on the other end of the room.

Terror like never before stabbed in his gut, twisting in him, tearing him from within, with it's sharp edges.

When she reached there, he had no idea, but the glint of the knife from the fruit basket caught his attention.

He wanted to die,  tears tracked down his cheeks,  and for the first time he wanted to cry.

He wanted to break. He felt like dying, as his heart tore in two parts, he couldn't lose them.

No, damn it. Not them! He loved them too much.

"Bhanu!" Pauravi shouted horrified, if Pauravi ever cared for another woman, other than herself, than it was her best friend Bhanumati.

Gazing at her cowife, who now had a sharp  blade in her hand. Her pristine tanned face was a mask of agony, her serene brown eyes had tears tracking down her cheeks.

"Don't do it!" Pauravi screamed, nearly hysterical.

Dread snaked through her, like a poisonous snake, spitting in her face. The memories of the past crumpling her from within.

"Bhanu! Drop it!" Duryodhan nearly growled, terror  overwhelming his senses.

Bhanumati was pregnant,  one mistake, and he'll lose his wives, and his child. Dread none like before slammed in his chest.

Anger unfurling in his chest, where he had ignored Panchaali first, now she had become a threat to him.

To his damn family! One that he had carefully protected, and nutured over the years.

His girls were his everything.

First, her husbands snatched away his throne, and now, that woman was the reason his family was in shambles.

"No, Bhanu. I cannot live anymore..." Pauravi whispered, half crazed look marring her face.

She felt her lungs closing,  the memories of the past, sweeping her off her senses.

"Than I wouldn't too!" His second wife announced, her eyes wide in terror,  while she gazed at her cousin.

No, all this years Pauravi had protected her, from her uncle's abuse. Never, let even his shadow touch her.

She was the best elder sister, one could ask for, how could she live when the girl who sacrificed herself completely for her sister?  So she could live. 

They had been through everything together, how could she let her die alone?

Duryodhan nearly growled,  when he saw that Bhanumati meant every word.

His little wife, was too much attached to her cousin.

Heck, he was trying to save one, but now, both were dying.

He wanted to tug his hair out, his world had suddenly flipped. He couldn't lose them, no damn it! Not them!

He loved them more than his next breath, more than himself. He could die for them.

And in that split second, he made a decision,  even though he knew it was wrong. A decision he knew would be sin.

But, did he care? Of course not.

To save them he could end his life, than what was killing one?

"GUARDS!" He roared, the wave of furious call knocking the breath out of the too. His over bearing presence vibrated with a fury unlike anything before.

In came rushing, his most trusted men. "Kill Draupadi. Do whatever the hell you want, but I do not want to see her alive! Do you get it? And no one is to know of this!" He ordered, fury lacing his words.

A part of him denied, that it was all wrong.

To take back the decision, but gazed at the two women, he loved more than his next breath and all his doubts faded.

The guards nodded, this hallway had his most trusted men. One which he knew, wouldn't hesitate to die for him, so he knew that his work would be done, and if they were caught,  they would die,  before betraying him.

Pauravi crumpled on the ground, the glass clattering on the white marble floor, shattering into a hundred pieces.

Her cries of relief filled the room, as Bhanumati threw the knife across the room, running towards her best friend, hugging her hard.

Relief hit Duryodhan like a high tide, making his knees grow weak. His knees hit the ground,  as he slouched.

They were fine.

They were safe.

The thoughts were almost too overwhelming. A tear tracked down his cheek, his throat clogging with unbearable emotions.

Agony and relief unfurling in his chest. He can never lose them! Never!

He loved them too much. Gazing at the two, he breathed the air in relief. The two were hugging each other, crying their eyes out.

His family.

His love, his every reason to exist in this plain of earth.

He was a sinner, and they, his greatest sin,  a sin he was ready to commit, over and over again, without a regret. . .

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