Happy mother's day! ✨ Weirdly, this chapter is dedicated to mothers, and what other day than today will be the perfect occasion to post it?

-• first princess •-

"Tara, did you accidentally exchange your shopping bag with a kid's?" Agastya holds my summer dress by the strings.

"It's mine!" I snatch it from him and fold it carefully before putting it in the wardrobe. "And stop going through my clothes!"

"You asked me to help you with your unpacking!" He deadpans.

"Then unpack my other stuff."

"What other stuff?" He places a hand on his hip. It looks funny but I resist laughing.

"Books!"

"And when did you start reading books?" He crosses his arms on his chest.

"When I realised talking to you is draining me of my high vocabulary." I retort, making a face of mockery at him.

"First get your phrases right."

I groan. "That was one time! One time! Stop bringing it up for God's sake!"

"Nope," he chuckles. "It'll be my opening line in your funeral."

"You're dying first, you roach!"

"And you're crying the hardest when I die, you female roach!" He bites back.

I open my mouth to counter his statement when Dad's revelation from this evening repeats in my head. We really speak of death so easily, unaware how hard it'll hit us when the end of our time really knocks on our door. I drop the item of clothing in my hand and step past the mess to hug my brother from behind. Agastya, leaned over my suitcase, suddenly stiffens. "Short stuff?" He gently touches my arm that's wrapped around the front of his shoulders. When I don't respond, he stands straight and reaches around to face me, his eyes cast down to meet mine, a faint smile on his face. "It was just a joke, Tara."

I nod, stepping in his embrace to hug him around the torso.

He sighs and places his hand on the back of my head, gently tracing it down the length of my hair. "Three months ago when I first saw you, I wanted to kill you."

I chuckle heavily, my voice sombre. "Same here. I was so happy when Bhai punished you for those cupcakes."

"Of course, you were." He wraps his arms around my small frame. "I thought it'd take me years to accept you as a family member, forget as a sister."

I stretch my neck back to look at him, a teasing smile on my face. "Yeah, you didn't last a week in front of my charms."

He brushes his lips fleetingly over my forehead, "I didn't. You got me weak the moment you fainted that morning. That's when I thought to myself, damn, this girl has got a grip on me. I'd kill for her. And I'd do it unapologetically."

My eyes tear up at his honest confession. "Stop, you're gonna make me cry." I sniffle.

He tucks the stray locks behind my ears, stroking his thumb gently along the length of my jaw. "Take care of yourself. You know how I get when something happens to you."

I nod softly.

Cupping my nape, he pulls me closer again, hugging me back to his chest. My eyes flicker over his shoulder spotting a figure at the doorstep, and I reciprocate the fond smile that dances on my favourite brother's face.

"Stop being a creep, Bhai," Agastya sighs.

"I'm just keeping an eye on you."

"And what's my crime, detective?" He pulls away, turning around to face Vivaan, his arm swung around my shoulders. I smile at their exchange.

"You're trying to beat me in the list of her favourite brothers!" He wags a finger at him. "But nope, that's not happening," He gets off the doorjamb and strolls over, grabbing me by the elbow as he pulls me away from Agastya and to his side. I chuckle at the face Agastya makes. "Ever." He finishes with a mocking smile.

"Yes, my lawyer has spoken." I state firmly, crossing my arms on my chest. "Don't pull such cheap tricks on me, Mr. Agastya Chauhan. You're never making me call you Bhai. Emotional manipulation doesn't work on me." I feign a prideful tone.

Agastya snorts. "And what if I made you call me Bhai?"

"Let's not waste time talking about the things that are never happening. I've more important matters to take care of." I take his words with a grain of salt.

He shoves his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. "Alright, hypothetically speaking, what if I do make you call me Bhai?"

I purse my lips and tap a finger on my chin, humming thoughtfully. "If that happens," I trail, relying on Vivaan to finish my statement, "What is he getting, Bhai? You decide."

"He'll pick up your doli on my behalf." Vivaan smiles.

Agastya's smile on the other hand fades, awe settling on his face, his eyes brimming with tears almost immediately. "Bhai," he whispers, his lips curling into a smile again, this time so wide I don't think I've ever seen him smile so brightly before.

I frown. Am I the only one failing to grasp the importance behind those words?

"Is it that important?"

"You've no idea!" Agastya laughs, excited at the prospect of marrying me off just so he gets to pick up my doli. I thought that was a old tradition?

"You're the first girl of the Chauhan family, Taranya. First girl in last five generations." Vivaan replies, making my jaw drop. "The late King Devendra Singh Chauhan wanted a daughter so bad he reached the threshold of every temple in the country. But he was blessed with three sons. His desperation to have a daughter made him perform different rituals, offer several prayers, in fact everything that he could to please the Gods. It didn't work. Then a sage from Himalayas visited Jaigarh, and he said, we'll be graced with Laxmi during the realm of fifth ruler. Our Dad." My heart stops for a split second and I feel goosebumps kiss me all across my body. "When our mother was pregnant with the twins, we were told they were girls, and everyone in the city was so happy we celebrated all night. That was when Dadi declared that her first two grandsons will carry Jaigarh's first Princess' doli all the way to her in-laws place as a token of gratitude to the Gods, no matter how far it is. But then twins were born, and we lost all the hope." He shrugs.

"Until three months ago Dad revealed we have a sister in England." A new voice says from the doorstep. Yuvaan smiles at me, those sacred dimples prominent, as though he was looking at something very precious of his. I smile bashfully, never having felt so adored before. He walks in and halts beside me to press a kiss on top of my head before turning around to stand facing us. "Are you seriously giving up your right for him?" He points at Agastya, not happy anymore.

"Stop being jealous of me, loser."

"He's going to fall you, Tara."

"I go to gym every morning, unlike a hermit standing beside me." Agastya scoffs.

"Can you guys stop?" I click my tongue in disappointment. "I'm more amazed by the fact that a sage from five hundred years ago knew I'll be the first princess of Chauhan clan. I'm speechless!" I express my disbelief.

"Yeah, well, their soul is attuned with the Gods." Vivaan shrugs, offering me a vague explanation.

"No, but, imagine having your fate predetermined so long ago? Five hundred years, Bhai. He knew me. It's oddly beautiful." I whisper.

"It is," Yuvaan murmurs.

"Wait, is that why your mother kept popping out kids?" I blurt out, then regret immediately. Where's the damn filter, Tara?

Surprisingly, my brothers laugh. "Yeah, that was why." Vivaan nods, a grin ever so pretty pulling at his lips like a cupid's bow. I wish whoever comes in his life, knows the worth of that smile. Because if not, I'm going to make her regret existing.

"She really thought she was chosen to give Chauhans their first daughter." Yuvaan snorts, his tone hinting at absurdity.

Agastya's smile automatically loses its spark and he clenches his jaw. "She hoped." He forces out through gritted teeth.

"Right, as if she was worthy enough." Yuvaan shakes his head. "No wonder she wrote all that bullshit in her emails about Tara -"

"Bhai!" Agastya snaps, his eyes widening to glare at the older man.

Yuvaan winces realising I'm in the same room as them. What's with Chauhan men and blurting out wrong things at wrong times?

Yeah, you're one to speak, Taranya.

So, it runs in the genes.

"It's fine, I already know about the mails." I say to calm him.

Vivaan raises his hand guiltily. "If you need someone to blame."

Agastya shakes his head in disappointment. "Anyway, it's late. And we all are jet lagged. I'll see you guys tomorrow morning. Don't forget you promised me something." He points at Vivaan, reminding him of the whole Doli thing.

"I'm never letting you win though." I plaster a sweet smile on my face.

"We'll see that when the time comes, Short stuff." He ruffles my hair and strolls out of the room. I huff. He's always so confident.

"I'll head to my room as well. Good night, guys." Yuvaan wishes us before exiting the room shortly after.

I step away from my elder brother to look at him comfortably. The bags underneath his eyes are so prominent I'm damn sure he spent the night before his flight performing surgeries instead of catching some well deserved sleep. "You should go to bed too." I push him towards the main door and turn around to pick up the fallen piece of clothing, "I'll quickly unpack my stuff and-"

"Dad told us." He cuts me off.

I stand straight, shifting my gaze to meet his eyes. "How old was he?" I whisper, clutching the fabric tightly in my fist.

He shakes his head. "You don't need to-"

"Please." I plead softly.

"Nine." He relents.

I suck in a deep breath and close my eyes, poking at inside of my cheek to settle the storming rage inside me. "If she was alive, I'm sorry, but I'd have tortured her to a slow, painful death!" I aver. He gives me a wry smile. "What was wrong with her? A mother doing something so heinous to her own kids? I can't believe it." I grind my teeth together, unable to shake off the anger I feel just at the thought of it. And my brother lived it. Must be still living with it. "I remember Mom panicking and fretting over me when I vaulted into bushes with my first bike. Even after being a nurse and looking at bloody bodies all the time, simple scratches on my arms had her worrying relentlessly. That's what a mother is!" And in times like these, after hearing stuff like this, makes me appreciate mine so much more. She was there, not all the time, but she was there everytime I needed her.

"Shh, calm down," he holds my hand gently and moves me to sit on the edge of the bed.

"How can I calm down, Bhai?" I mutter disappointedly. "The one person everyone in this world deserves, how can they turn their back on you?" I ask him, genuinely clueless. "I can't imagine a mother doing all those terrible things to her own child. It's horrible how you can think of one crime you've never seen or heard of, but the chances are, somewhere, in some corner of the world, someone has already done it."

He sighs. "Do you know of Lord Krishna?" He inquires softly. I shake my head. "He was the eight child to King Vasudeva and Queen Devki. The prophecy was, that one of their children will bring end to the cruelty of King Kans, his maternal uncle. So King Kans, scared of being killed at the hands of his own nephew, got rid of all of the first seven kids. Devki, fed up of her brother's tyrannical ways, desperately wanted to protect her son from ending up dead like her previous seven." I lean in curiously at that point. "So one night, after being guided by divine powers, Vasudeva sneaked out of the cell, and in harsh rains, he reached across river Yamuna and left their son with his dear friend, Nandraja and his wife, Yashodha."

"So he grew up there? With his new parents?"

Vivaan nods with a smile. "Even now, when someone thinks of Kanha's mother, Yashodha is always on the tip of their tongue. Because she looked after him as her own, she loved him as her own. He was a naughty little troublemaker and not a day went by when she was not screaming his name across the yard," I chuckle. I can just imagine it. "But she loved him so dearly, so hopelessly, and with all of her heart." He adds, his voice softer, gentler. "His real mother loved him too, but still, Yashodha Mayya can never be replaced in Shri Krishna's life."

I don't know why that makes me so emotional.

"You don't become a mother just because you carried a child for nine months inside you, you become a mother when the child regards you as such." He pats my hand. "And Nandini Chauhan was not it. She couldn't become a wife, and she could have never become a mother."

"How unfortunate," I mumble, my nose stuffy as I hold back the raw emotions. "To have six beautiful, respectful, mature sons and still not be a mother. Never heard of a Queen being so poor."

"You know where the downfall of trust begins?" Vivaan asks, "When the blood relationships fail you."

True.

I nod in response to his words.

"Dad's meeting your mom tomorrow," he says, catching me by surprise.

"Really? I can go along?" I ask hopefully.

He smiles. "Yes, you can. I'll drive you two there."

My lips split in a grin. "You'll be coming too?"

"Yup," he chuckles.

I beam. "I can't wait for my two most favourite people to meet!"

He ruffles my hair. "Now it's late, I'll see you tomorrow morning."

I grab his hand as he gets up to leave. He looks back at me over his shoulder, raising his brow as he glances down at our connected hands. "At what time?"

He ponders with a small hum, "after breakfast?"

"Done!" I leave his hand so he can go and catch some sleep.

"Bye, good night."

"Good night!" I wave at him just as he walks out of my room, waving at me with a small smile before closing the door of my new room.

I sigh and place my hands on the bed, looking around the modern, black and grey interiors. Guess, this is my room for the rest of the time I'll be staying here. I fall backward on the bed with a small thump and reach for my phone across the nightstand, struggling to unplug the charging cod. I grunt when I accidentally tug harder and the charger comes off the socket, crashing to the ground.

Whatever. I'm not picking it up unless my battery drops to zero.

I unlock my phone, wondering if I can call Janet to let her know I'm here. But then I see the time and delete the idea. It's past midnight. She must be fast asleep. And if not, then reading one of her fanfiction eroticas. Everytime I remember one of her many strange quirks, I understand why she doesn't have many friends. My bestfriend is weird.

I put the phone away and turn off the main lights, rolling on my new large bed until I find a comfortable position. Ignoring the mess all around the room, I sleep like a baby.

The next day, I'm woken up by the rapid knocks on the door. Groaning softly, I get up and rub a hand across my face, stifling a yawn that's stubborn than me because it eventually escapes.

"Tara! Breakfast is ready!" Vivaan announces from outside.

"Coming!" I call back, getting off the bed and almost falling front face because of the boxes scattered on the floor. Aggravated, I kick at it hard and yelp aloud, holding my knee to my chest as I hop around in pain. "Fuck!"

"What's wrong?" Vivaan question worriedly

"Nothing!" I reply, my voice strained as fresh tears bubble in my eyes. "I accidentally stubbed my toe. Go, I'll be there after washing up." I add aloud.

"Oh, okay, be quick." He states before I hear his footsteps retreat.

Pitying my tiny little toes, I blow air at them, which doesn't reach them, and rub them gently. Sticking my tongue out at the box, I grab fresh clothes from my recently arranged wardrobe and stride inside the bathroom for a long shower.

Thirty minutes later, I come out wearing a knee length white dress with daisies all over. I stand in front of the full length mirror and smile at my reflection. The square neck and broad straps accentuates my collarbones, they look pretty. The smile disappears when I remember Shourya. If he was here, he'd have stared at my shoulders hard enough to make them fall off my body and shy away in some dark corner to escape from his intense gaze.

Let's not think about him.

I clasp the ends of a pendant around my neck and stroke the butterfly charm tenderly, deciding to add a little touch of make up to my pale cheeks. All the traveling and lack of sleep has drained me of my color.

After I'm all ready, I put on my heels and skip across the floor, avoiding knocking into boxes as I successfully make it out of room without stubbing my toe or hitting my knee.

The smell of pancakes and omelette wafts through air. My stomach growls demandingly.

I see my brothers, all except one scattered in the kitchen. Arush and Agastya sit by the counter while Ayush and Yuvaan occupy two adjacent chairs at the dining table, one reading a book and the other looking at something on his laptop. The pancakes cold by their sides, barely even touched. I look back at the man behind the counter, wearing an apron and hurrying to serve them, and sigh in disapproval. Not my brothers taking my favourite brother for granted. Nope, not happening under my watch.

"There's our little star, c'mon, the fresh batch of cookies are out. Should I pour you a glass of milk?" Vivaan cooes at me like a mother would.

I walk in and slap the laptop close, startling Yuvaan.

"What the fuck?" He glares at me. Ignoring him, I reach past him to pluck out the book from Ayush's hands. He blinks at me surprised. I slam it close and put it on the chair before moving towards the other two, disappointed when I see Agastya ogling a celebrity and Arush squinting his eyes at some demonic symbol on his screen. Nincompoops! Literal waste of space. I hit them both on the back of their heads.

Arush was concentrating so hard the phone clatters to the counter from his hands and he flinches. Agastya groans.

"Tara!" He shouts, looking at me furiously.

"Where are the other two?" I demand, my eyes locked with Vivaan's, who blinks and swallows, pointing towards the living room.

I turn and stride to the living room, finding one watching television and the other reading a newspaper.

"That man-" I start loudly, jolting the two straight, and their eyes snap to me. I continue. "He's standing there in the kitchen for God knows how long, making breakfast for everyone, from pancakes to omelettes to cookies and this is how you all repay him?" I point at the untouched, cold food on their plates. "Get up." I command.

"Excuse me?" Yuvraaj furrows his brows, his voice stern. I don't waver.

"Get up and come to the dining table. Everyone's having breakfast together, without gadgets or books in their hands. That's the least you can do as a token of gratitude for him." I state firmly.

Dad quickly turns off the television and carries the plate to the dining table.

"Will you be responding in three business days, Mr. Chauhan?" I ask my eldest brother sarcastically.

He sighs exasperatedly and folds the news paper, hooking it under his arm as he picks his plate and walks past me to the dining table.

I sigh in relief and turn around, widening my eyes at the pair of delinquents, admonishing their audacity to stay seated at the counter. The two quickly scurry to grab their chairs. I smile satisfied.

"Thank you, Soldier!" Vivaan salutes me, grinning broadly. God damnit, that's my ray of sunshine.

"Anything for you, Captain!" I wink back.

Help, I love these two 😭

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