-• need you •-

Shourya's thought evokes inevitable doubts in my mind. And with my phone blaring in my hand, flashing the name of the one person on the screen who has similar theories as me, didn't really help me rest the case.

I excuse myself from everyone in the living area and rush upstairs, closing the door to my room and locking it for extra security measure. The inkling of what's fostering in my mind is food to rumours and I don't want anyone overhearing us, possibly one of the twins and or worse, Agastya. He's got curiousity of a feline and feral hunches of that a predator whenever one of the Rajawats is mentioned.

I answer the call, hoping to hear anything but what's driving my mind wild, and even still, expecting it because I don't want to feel like I'm the only person driving such bizzare conclusions of a peer.

"Did you hear the news?" I don't know whether to feel relieved or panicked.

"I did." I reply.

"Do you think......" She trails, letting the question hang, as though compelling me to finish it for both of us. But courage betrays me. What we're speculating is not a prank of a delinquent but a full fledged murder, and putting the blame on someone we only suspect but have no evidence to prove is an immature move.

"I don't know. I thought we decided to never talk about it again?" I accuse, simply not wanting to add fuel to the fire.

"C'mon, Tara, I cannot be the only one who failed to stop thinking about last night."

"Maybe it was a blood of an animal? Or maybe it wasn't blood at all? Maybe it was paint? It could be anything!"

"Let's not pretend paint washes off so easily from the hands. And are you really ignoring the strong metallic stench we smelled in the air? Than cannot be a trick of a brain, can it?" She mutters quietly.

"I don't know," I sit on the bed. "And even if I did, I don't want to involve myself in this. Previous Shourya was a creepy asshole, current Shourya is a fucking puzzle that no matter how hard I try, doesn't make sense!" I state, panic slipping through my tone. "I spend an hour with him every day after school ends, Anagha. He's exceptionally smart, and his words have this wicked hint that always warns me in the head to keep my distance. I'm not willingly inclined to prod into the matters that perhaps need to be dealt with legally."

"Alright, I understand your point," she mumbles. "Maybe it's the lawyer blood in me that's forcing me to dig deeper into this matter."

"And I would advice you to not," I suggest. "Anagha, maybe we're just setting up wild theories that have no purpose. I mean, agreed Shourya is changed, and once he was a spoilt brat, but to willingly murder someone and frame it as an animal attack, don't you think that's a little far fetched?"

She hums thoughtfully. "You're right. Exams are closer anyway. I need to focus on them. Shourya is a royal fella, he can even get away with murder if he wants. I don't have that influence, not even in my own family."

Her words stab me where guilt resides. Ignoring the pinch of hurt, I force myself to sound composed. "I'll see you tomorrow in school," I say, ready to hang up.

"Yeah, by the way, why didn't you come tonight?"

"I had somewhere to be with my brother."

"Which one?"

"Vivaan," I answer.

"Ah, the surgeon. Alright, okay, I'll see you tomorrow. Good night." She says and hangs up.

I let go of a troubled breath that's swirling into my chest like a hurricane, and lean forward, closing my eyes to achieve some sense of peace in between all the chaos.

I need to talk to someone, get rid of everything that's in my head and seek some unbiased advice. The last time I talked about the unfairness of the situation with my brothers, Vivaan sounded sad that I was willing to choose my friendship over them and Agastya advised not to overthink too much if I want to protect the Saxena siblings from a much worse fate.

Did I really get into a relationship I wasn't even a hundred percent invested only to have a life time of regrets on my conscience?

I thought love is all about finding and falling.

I don't know about the falling part, but I'm definitely blessed in finding troubles after troubles for myself.

There's only person who would listen to my ranting and help me make sense of everything that's happening. So I call her and like a sweetheart that she is, picks up in the third ring.

"Yes, bestie!"

I smile. "I've managed to create another trouble for myself."

"Expected. I'm armed with my extraordinary intellect and unprejudiced mind, let's discern the situation and figure out whether it's salvageable." She asserts.

I chuckle, pulling my legs up on the bed to sit cross-legged. She listens to me patiently while I explain my current predicament to her, eliminating the part of my recent text conversation with the mystery man and forcing more on the punishment I received as a result of my fleeting feelings.

"Okay, I get it now," she muses. "So, Atharva's father wanted to use you against your family and hence, cancelled the plan of sending his kids off to US, but then you broke up, the second hottest caught you in the act, and the matter reached your eldest brother, who absolutely hated the fact that you were to be used as a weapon against him by his enemies," she summarises shortly. "Did I get that right?"

"To a tee," I reply.

"And somehow, strangely, in a rather toxic way, because I'm half a hoe and half a friend, while admitting you're also right in your place, can relate to your brother." Her voice thins out in the end, taking a sheepish turn.

My mouth falls agape at her words. "Janet!"

"Okay, listen me out!" She blubbers defensively. "As a human, I sympathise with your friend. And of course, if you weren't feeling guilty about the whole ordeal, I'd have thought of you as a selfish person. But I'm your best friend Tara, at the end of the day, you're my priority. If someone hurts you or has intentions of hurting you, I'll make sure to teach them a lesson. Her father tried to use you against your own family so if you let your brother openly attack him, you'll probably be giving him a free license to destroy the family. And I'm sure, you don't want that. We can't deny your brother is not a very kind and generous person, he is morally ambiguous and thinks bad is avenged with evil. And there's no way you can change his mind about it. So think of the whole thing this way, indirectly so, but you're getting a chance to help your bestfriend. It's just final exams, Tara. What she scores here isn't going to determine whether she succeeds in her life or not. But you telling her that she's to be sent off to US and is already betrothed to a man she has never even heard off, will change her life. If anything, I think, your brother is being a lot merciful than what he is perceived as in world. I've seen people quake with fear when he walked into the party, Tara. He definitely did not achieve that by just sitting around and doing nothing. He has his own ways to get work done, he's an astute, shrouded businessman who believes in getting even with the people that think of betraying him, and you've to accept him that way. If you don't, you'll find it harder to love him as your brother."

I let her words soak in. As I said, she helps me make sense of the situation. She's right. Not accepting this punishment has more cons than pros. If I don't do this, Bhai will take the matter in his hands. Him ruining the Saxenas over something so futile will end up hurting both Atharva and Anagha. I'd rather suffer the guilt of telling her the right thing at the wrong time intentionally, than watch her family name get crushed to the ground because my fleeting feelings towards Atharva started this whole series of unfortunate events.

"Honestly, if I do tell her, will it stop her father from marrying her off to a stranger?"

"Maybe, maybe not?" She replies. "As a matter of fact, you told her the truth. Even if late, even if to make sure she fails the exam, but you did. If you focus more on the intention of why you're doing it, guilt is inevitable. You won't be able to save yourself from it. So think of it from a different perspective. That you're still helping her, even if out of compulsion towards your punishment."

I nod. "You're right."

"Don't overthink," she advises. "And call me anytime you need to talk to me. I'm always here for you."

"I'm legit selfish. I only call you when I face any difficulty."

"That's okay. I admire this trait of yours. You share what's on your mind easily. It's a hard pill to swallow for many of us." Her voice turns heavy.

"You know you can also call me anytime." I mumble in disappointment.

"I will."

"You won't."

She chuckles. "Alright, I've school work to finish. So we'll talk later."

"See, you're trying to change the topic."

"Bye, Tara," she emphasizes.

I huff. "Bye. And take care. Good night."

She wishes the same before hanging up on me.

I place my phone on the nightstand and shift back. Tonight has been particularly heavy on me. From the whole hospital fiasco to this murder news being telecasted so attuned to the theories whirling in my mind, I had a lot to swallow. Feeling my head throb with the intensity of sharp needles pricking into my nerves, I get off the bed and head inside the bathroom to look for any over-the-counter medicine.

Sleep comes to me easily once I take the pain reliever.

The next day at school, Anagha and I try our hardest to not make it obvious about what's going on inside our heads. But like detectives of a badly written spy movies, we continue to keep an eye on Shourya, hoping to catch anything suspicious that can induce our doubts.

So when we end up in the private room for the extra classes, patiently waiting for the teacher to come, I casually pop the question. "Did you hear the news last night?"

He flips the page of his book. "What news?"

"About the murder," I add, gouging his face for any reaction. He gives out none.

"I'm not a fan of crime stories,"

"It literally happened day before yesterday," I deadpan.

"I must have missed it," he replies.

I sigh. "It happened in your city."

He finally lifts his head. I sit straight in attention, brimming with intrigue to hear his response.

"Monarchy ended ages ago, Taranya. And unless you're weak in politics, then you must know a seventeen year old doesn't have a right to vote, let alone be part of legal affairs." He states, regarding me with a look that condemns me.

"Maybe you should watch news to stay up-to-date?" I retort.

"Maybe I'm just not interested?"

"Maybe you're just so entitled. Thinking the world revolves around you." I jab.

"Are we back on this?" He frowns.

I shrug. "I was just making it clear who's the entitled one among us."

He doesn't say anything, simply raises his book and buries his nose into it. I roll my eyes and pick up mine, determined to ignore him for the rest of the hour when my gaze lands back on him, and for a split second, a similar memory appears in my head. "Wait!" I hunch over the table, startling him slightly as I hold the book until his nose, keeping only his eyes and brows visible. He meets my gaze over the book, and my stomach drops low at the eagle like stare burning through those golden irises, as if any moment the shield will melt down and bring forward the dark as night ebony eyes, the root of my nightmares. "You-"

He quickly yanks the book down with a force that trips me from my balance and I end up falling forward with a squeak. He reacts in time by grabbing my forearms, stopping me from face planting myself into him. My hands automatically hold onto his shoulders for support, and our eyes clash once again.

For a moment, none of us move.

I feel his eyes rake down my face, learning the details, and strangely, I don't feel exposed.

"What are you trying to do?" His hold around my forearm turns deadly steel.

I hold back a whimper.

"Esther," he whispers, and my lips part in awe. He sounded so much like him. "There are limits you shouldn't cross. And I'm one of them." He grits out. "Don't forget that." He seethes, throwing me off him so harsh I almost topple back in my chair.

"So- Sorry." I murmur, sitting straighter. "I shouldn't have done that." My cheeks heat up in humiliation. Thankfully, the teacher arrives in time, saving me from anymore embarrassment.

For the rest of the lecture, I try so hard to not look at him or even glance his way. The seed of doubt is already planted in my head, and the more I think about what recently happened, the more I want to unravel this mystery beside me. If he's really him, the change in his attitude, his way of speaking and the reclusive nature, it will all make sense.

Wait.

But then what happened to the real Shourya?

Does that mean he never woke up?

And if he didn't, why would the Chairman accept this guy as the replacement of his favourite grandson?

And how come he looks so similar to real Shourya?

Did I really kill the real Shourya?

I clutch my head at the endless possibilities running inside my mind. If this Shourya turns out to be the mystery man, I'd end up having more questions than answers. Do I really want that?

I always say I've nothing to do with any of this and that I'm better off not knowing anything, but I find single key that fits one of the thousand locks, and I'm all ready to try my luck.

We're allowed to leave at six in the evening. I grab my backpack and swing it over my shoulder, unable to tear my eyes off him as he packs his backpack and stealthily makes his way out of the room. I follow him out quietly, keeping a solid distance of at least six feet between us. I focus on the way he walks, looks around, his gestures, heck even the way he breathes, I'm desperate to latch onto any similarity that'll get me closer to the mystery that he is.

Then he descends the main stairs, gets in the car waiting for him and drives off.

I sigh, clutching the strap of my backpack tighter as I wait for my brothers to arrive. Ayush comes first, followed by Arush and then Agastya shortly after. We pile inside his car and head back home.

I always study a little after school. But today, I can hardly focus on the words written in the textbook. My thoughts keep going back to the moment in the library.

I've always prided myself for keeping my life to myself, neither peeping into others, nor letting them steal a glimpse of mine. But ever since I came here, that's all I've been doing. And I want to stop, but these feelings, that I call curiosity for the sake of my sanity, doesn't let me.

During dinner, I keep thinking about the library incident despite trying so hard to focus on the ongoing conversations. And then we return to school, the one place that's supposed to act as a distraction, rather serves as the central force of my speculations.

My eyes betray me and gravitate towards him.

He is dozed off in his seat, the book resting on his chest, his feet crossed on the desk.

I glance teacher's way and she doesn't even bat an eye towards him. As the Chairman's grandson, he can do anything and get away with it. We could have too, but unlike the Chairman who defends every wrong of his child, Bhai would punish us harsher than school authorities if we did something to harm his reputation.

When I return home, I drop my backpack on the floor and fall eagle spread on the bed, closing my eyes to the exhaustion forcing them to rest.

I don't realise when I fall asleep, but waking up to the blaring of my phone in the middle of the night is not a great way to wake up. Sitting straight, I suck in a deep breath and rake my fingers through my open locks, tossing them back as I pick up my phone. The reminiscent of sleep vanishes from my eyes upon seeing the name flashing on the screen.

M.

"He- Hello?" I whisper, my voice feeble, almost inaudible.

"Princess," he heaves harshly. I sit alarmed, the strain in his voice alerting my senses. He breathes, in and out, in and out, loud enough for me to hear. It doesn't sound normal. He seems to be in pain.

"What's wrong?" My voice comes out panicked and I wear my slippers, prepared to knock on Bhai's study if he's in need of help.

"I need you," he breathes.

My body stills in shock hearing his words.

"Get a first aid box and come to the room." With that said, he hangs up.

I stand confused for a moment, then shake my head and kickstart my body to jump into action. Grabbing the first aid box from the upper cabinet in the bathroom, I also get some fresh towels and a bowl before leaving the room. The palace is quiet, dimly lit by the sconces, and I pray internally that I don't cross paths with one of my brothers. There's no way I can explain roaming the palace in the middle of the night with towels and first aid box, unless, of course I'm insane.

I reach the room I assume he must be in and twist the knob. It unlocks swiftly, and I push the door ajar. A gasp leaves my mouth at the sight in front of me. Unlike how I'm used to seeing him, seated on the chair like the ruler of everything that exists and breathes, he is on the bed tonight, writhing in pain as he holds the side of his stomach, trying to stop the blood that keeps gushing out.

Pushing the door close, I rush upto him and place the things on the nightstand before leaning forward to turn on the lamp. He grabs my arm, the icy cold touch sends shivers down my spine. "Don't -"

"But you-"

He shakes his head. "Don't," he says raggedly.

I sigh and unpack the first aid. "What happened?" I ask while getting out the antiseptic and cotton.

He lifts his white shirt that's soaked with blood. My eyes turn wide at what I see. The cut under his ribs is so deep, it opens like a crevice. I find my hands shaking like a leaf at the sight of it. It leaks blood constantly and if not the metallic stench lingering in the air, the nasty gash is enough to faint me.

"I ca-can't do this. You need a doctor. I should go and call Vivaan Bhai-"

He grabs my elbow. "No," his voice comes out weak, forced and pained.

"But-"

"I'll do it." He nods, the veins in his neck and forehead prominent. "Just- Just sterilise that needle and thread for me," he points to the paper bag on the other side of the bed. I bend forward and grab the bag, doing as he told.

"How can I help?" I ask when he prepares to close his own wound after I disinfect it.

He holds my free hand and places it on his mouth over the mask. "Make sure I don't make a sound."

"Shouldn't you use anesthesia or something to numb the wound?" I ask, pressing on the cut to stop the bleeding, my eyes bleary as I try to hold back the tears.

"I don't have it," he says through gritted teeth, pain evident on his face.

"I'm calling Yuvraaj Bhai-"

"I've done this before," he murmurs, stopping me in place. "Trust me. I've done this. Countless of times. I know what I'm doing. I'm already losing blood, I need to stitch the wound before I lose more."

"I don't even know what to do!" I cry in frustration.

"Just stay with me." He whispers, calming me down.

I force myself to nod and cup his mouth, prepared to block the whimpers of pain if he blurts any.

It takes him less than ten minutes to finish closing his wound with stitches. I don't really focus there to judge the agility or skill of his movements. I just stare past him, pressing my hand on his mouth incase he makes a noise.

Then his bloodied fingers come up, and gently wrap around my wrist, his ebony eyes hooded as he stares into my blue ones, slowly lowering my hand from his mouth. I swallow as I drop it to my side.

"You okay?"

He nods. "Thank you."

"How did this happen-"

"You should go." He cuts me off.

I clench my jaw, furious at how quickly he dismisses me after getting what he wants. There's a limit to everything, and he always overdoes it. Seething and fuming, I pull away and get off the bed. He watches me as I clean the mess and pack the first aid box. "Taranya," I ignore him. "Princess-"

"Good night," I say and leave the room, hating him for making me feel so drawn to him.

The next day, Shourya doesn't come to school.

Leaving you on a cliffhanger again, because I'm sadist.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment. Makes my day.