I don't know should I be thanking God for Pri not dismissing the switch or should I be worried because she was in a lion's den? My parents were an incarnation of Satan and Pri was new to the game. Even after trying several times, I wasn't able to convince her to come back. She wanted revenge but that was impossible. If she falls into any more trouble, she will immediately return and I will go back and surrender.
I wondered what went wrong with the Prince? As far as Ragini told me her brother was a true gentleman and a man of words. Why did he kiss her? Was he so smitten by her beauty? I hope so. They would make a perfect pair and Pri's long term desire to live in a world of luxury shall be fulfilled.

"Pri, where the fuck are you?"

"Coming granny cool." I ran to 'my' granny. Yes, Pri was indeed correct, her grandmother was the sunshine to a gloomy day.

*****************************************************************************************************************

I dressed up in "simple" Zara beige pants and white shirt with a Burberry scarf and shoes. I have never visited a Zara showroom leave aside wearing it. I only surfed it online and sighed at the pretty clothes. Even after 50% off, I couldn't afford them. Burberry was out of question. I wondered if I could spell it even. The only thing good about the switch were these excesses.

Breakfast time was over but I told Garima if I were not given food, I will faint and the factory visit which my new father was so keen on, will go in drain.
Excellent!
To stop the train pull the chain.
Train = Chaya's parents
Chain= Prince...
What was his name? I didn't even know? I messaged Chaya to know the name of the Prince but she didn't reply. I checked the time and realised it was the time granny did gardening and I helped her. She had a new granddaughter now. I felt a pang of jealousy.
Yeah!
At the age of twenty, I felt possessive about my granny because I didn't have a sweetheart. That's okay though. Granny was love too.

"Are you ready, Princess?" Chaya's mother inquired. She was dressed so elegantly, if only, her soul was decent too.

"Absolutely, your highness," I bow mockingly making her angry.

"Princess, I am expecting you to be at your best behaviour. No, drama else you know the consequences." My new father's eyes shivered me to the core. I was in a fight with a legendary ex-king who knew no mercy.

I pulled up my sleeves which had his finger marks turned blue. "I can't bear the consequences getting worse than this, Papa." I addressed him 'papa' on purpose. I wanted to churn an emotion in him but not even for a second did his eyes flicker. My new mother was just a decorated show piece.

We sat in a Matt black BMW7series. The seats were so comfortable that I could sleep in here. The car was silent. No music. No conversation.
I wanted to compare my real parents with fake ones. Sadly, I do not remember travelling with my father, ever. We had never been out of Mussoorie. I went to some school trips at times, only if granny sponsored from grandfather's minimalistic pension. Our college never took us to trips because big girls and boys together could do hanky-panky.
I chuckled at the psyche of our principal. Dehradun museum was the only place they took us every year.

After an hour we entered a huge building with gardens on one side and beautiful articles displayed on the other. It was as big as a small town.
'KESARI'
Written in bold and capital was the family name the Prince bore. The unit manufactured products from scrap. I had investigated a little and found about the business of the Prince. He was a conservationist and was manufacturing products from residuals of factories that were otherwise disposed of in water or just as a waste littered the place.

If he didn't kiss me last night, I would have given him full marks for his efforts. Living in the hills, I have always felt close to mother nature and the need to conserve and protect it.

My side of the door was opened and I stepped out to be greeted by an infectious smile. Dressed in a white shirt and beige pants like me, the prince was looking stunning. He was using his looks quite well, I could see.

"Welcome princess." The Prince welcomed me and I found his voice so sexy. He took my hand and kissed the back of my palm. It was... It was... a 'Goosebumpy' experience. I didn't know if that word existed but that was how my state was.

The Prince sensed his charms were working but I could be charming too. I smiled at him. Probably the first time since we met. He could not stop staring at me and I loved this effect. Perverts were easy to deal with.

My new father cleared his throat to gain attention and the Prince immediately left my hand and welcomed him.

We were escorted to his office. I was expecting a lavish office but it was simple.  A desk and chair with a computer.
No!
MacBook pro.
So much for the basic office. He was a show-off, a hypocrite may be. Vouching for equality between owner and staff but not giving away with extravagant amenities.
We sat on a small sofa and were served water.

"Tea or coffee, your highness?" Prince asked us.

"Is whiskey an option?" My new father joked. Could he? He was trying to impress the Prince. Eh! Where was I stuck with a bunch of two-faced people.

"I am afraid not. But, I assure you our tea is good." Prince offered.

"Tea it is then." My new father confirmed and the staff went to get the order.

I wanted coffee because tea was something you drink at home. This was an underlined rule in all Indian middle-class families.

Tea arrived in very unique cups. I was trying to figure the design when the Prince explained, "It is made from leftover broken and rejected glass. But, don't worry it's perfectly hygienic."

I was IMPRESSED!

My father scoffed, "Prince you must not waste your time in utilising the waste. It's a "waste" for a reason. Join your family business. You are the only heir to SHER SINGH KESARI. He expressed his desire to me that he wants you to take over his responsibilities now. After your marriage with Chaya..."

I coughed on the refreshing tea I was drinking. The word MARRIAGE choked me. "Sorry," I apologised feeling embarrassed. I needed to play well and be immune to such talks.

The Prince smirked and I so hated it. But, his reply bowled me, "I am a conservationist and my father is an industrialist. Our wavelengths don't match when it comes to business. Besides, I am not the only heir, I have a sister, Ragini, who deserves the share equally. As far as marriage is concerned, my future wife is free to choose the line she wants. She can join my father or me or start something of her own or just enjoy being a Queen." 

"Well, you youngsters love the rebel game. It's okay, we were young too but we crushed the ones who rebelled and dare we say or do a thing against our parent's desires." My new father was very intimidating. I put my cup down as I couldn't finish the tea. His warnings were scary.

"Should the desire of parents be not what the kids desire? It's their life and everyone is a master of their own life." Prince countered winning brownie points for his subtleness.

"Kids, don't know what's right or wrong. What's morally acceptable and what's against the norms? We are the Royals and have a reputation to protect. With great power comes great responsibility." My new father was bent on proving his point.

"Umm... I think we should take a round of the manufacturing unit. We will get late otherwise." The verbal battle was very disturbing and I wanted to end it. Both men stopped talking and we left the office filled with an air of tension.

The building we were in was the office wing where back-office jobs were done. The adjoining building was painted in bright green.

"In this unit we manufacture wooden articles." Prince briefed about how he acquired waste wood from industries and put them to best use. I observed women singing folk songs and decorating small wooden horses with cut glass. The horses were so pretty and the ambience was so delightful.

When we reached there the ladies sang, "बन्ना जी, की बन्नी बहुत ही प्यारी, है राजा इनको ब्याह के लाओ बन्ना जी करो प्यार की सवारी"

The ladies giggled after their little song and I was blushing profusely. I had naturally pink cheeks and this song only accentuated the shade darker. I wanted to hide somewhere. I was not used to such attention. My new father took out cash and moved it anti-clockwise over my head then offered it to the ladies.

"राजा जी हमारी नज़र नहीं लगेगी। आप इससे किसी का भला कर देना। हमारे कुंवर जी की वजह से हमें कोई कमी नहीं।" (King, we will not cast an evil eye on the princess. You donate this money to the needy. Our prince takes care of us and we are satisfied with what we have.)

My father's eyes flared in anger. He left the money there and moved forward with his assistant. How can the poor, that to women, speak in front of him?

"Sorry. उनको माफ़ करदीजिए। आपका गाना अच्छा था।" (forgive him. Your song was good).
I apologised to the ladies as I disapproved the reaction of my new father. The ladies only showered love and his act was so inappropriate.

Not everyone wanted money. The ladies smiled and I felt good. They were talented and did their job skillfully.

"Princess, the ladies wish to tie this on your forearm for protection from evil." A female supervisor gave me a sacred thread and I took it.

"Won't you tie it princess?" The staff asked me.

"Umm... I will... Later. Thank you." The ladies for sure thought I was lying. My new father's behaviour could only make them think I was arrogant too. But, I couldn't tie it there.

The Prince and I walked further while I was observing the unit closely. It was so fascinating to see. The work culture was easy and friendly.

"You could have let them tie it on your hand." The Prince suggested in a not so polite tone.

"I said I will tie it later. I have kept it safe." I continued walking with him by my side.

"These people are naive, don't fool them. They gave you with a lot of love and trust..."

"I am not fooling them. Why will I? It's just that I... I can't let them tie it." I cut his rant and stopped. What was he trying to say?

"Oh! The princess will get dirty with their dirty hands? Is it? I will do the honours. I am of a royal origin." The Prince was defending his people and was misunderstanding me. I wanted to clear his confusion but I didn't. Let him think that for all I care.

I ignored him and walked up to my father. It was like, I fall in the well, either ways. We came out of the unit and my father scolded me, "Just stop that act of yours. You are royal, behave like one. There is no need to mingle with these people. It's not election time."

Oh! My! It was true, politicians only get active before elections. Their agenda 'help the needy and poor' is just to lure the voters. I felt a strong urge to hit this man in his gut. It loathed him. He was the monster of the monsters. He wanted to gain from poor people.

I turned my head to watch the Prince helping his labours fix the machine. He didn't mind their touch or contact. Was this also an act or reality?
I didn't know.
What I did know was that his folded sleeves and view of his biceps was HOT!
SEXY!
TEMPTING!
A very weird feeling in the pit of my stomach indicated I was yearning to touch his arms. I have had this feeling before watching 'Damon' on 'The Vampire Diaries'. It was not good to feel the same for Pervert Prince.
Great name.

"Are you listening to me, Chaya?" My new father asked me. What was he saying? I was busy comparing Damon and Prince. Shit!

"Yes, your highness," I replied.
He held my hand tight and pressed it from the same position he did last night. "Stop right there Chaya, else you will not like it." He was a brilliant actor. No one could know he was hurting me by digging his fingers deep. He said everything with a smile and his hold looked fatherly.

"It's hurting, please leave my hand," I pleaded hiding my tears. I could have used my Taekwondo techniques on him but I refrained.
He left my hand as soon as the Prince returned. The Prince looked at me but I immediately averted his gaze and wore the googles I brought with me.

Paint your pain.
I painted mine with brown goggles.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Dear Readers
Word meaning:
बन्ना जी बन्नी बहुत ही प्यारी, है राजा की राजदुलरी
इनको ब्याह के लाओ बन्ना जी करो प्यार की सवारी - dear groom your bride is really pretty and she is her father- the king's beloved daughter. Marry her and sail on the boat of love.

Pratima is determined to seek revenge from the royals. Chaya is regretting putting her in that place. But, what is the story behind her love life? Why is she so secretive about it?

Find out!
Stay hooked!

Lots of love.