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Trishalini POV

If I would not say that my heart was not bleeding, seeing him like this, I would be at the top of my lies.

It was not just bleeding, but a pain so deep, so intense and so strong, running into my nerves. It was freezing my muscles. I could hardly say anything let alone do.

Collecting all the remains of my courage, I tried to hold his hand. And, then his chin to make him look at me.

I had never seen him like this. Never so out of character, composure and control.

He was crying, he was losing himself, he was on the verge of exploding.

"Abhi," I managed to say.

And he gulped, staring at me with hatred, love, and so many emotions I could not comprehend.

And, to be honest, I was frightened by him at this moment.

"I think... You should change first," I managed to say, lowering my gaze to the scattered things. And, just then, I noticed the blood dripping off his hand.

My heart split in two, and I immediately tried to hold his hand.

"Abhi!"

But he quickly pulled back.

"You should go," he muttered and looked away from me, turning around.

Shaking my head, and I immediately walked around him and looked into his eyes.

"Abhi, I am into all of this because of you," I said again in a low and trembling voice. He inhaled deeply.

"I know; I am sorry," he broke, the tears falling freely from his eyes.

"But, I am into all of this for you, too," I managed to say. My voice came out low and shaky and he breathed with parted lips, staring into my eyes.

My heart was beating so loud that I shook my head before lowering my gaze to his bleeding hand and trying to hold his hand.

He tightened his hand. But I stood to my ground and stepped closer to him.

Inhaling deeply, he looked away from me.

Gulping nervously, I looked around for a cotton cloth. My sight fell on an unused thin towel, and I did not waste any moment grabbing it and tearing it into long pieces.

He washed his tear and looked down at his hand as I opened his fist and saw the cut on his fingers. The thick, dark, red blood dripping down made my heart ache uncontrollably.

"Why would you cut yourself?" I asked in a slow voice, wrapping the bandage around his fingers.

"So that the insides hurt less," he replied in a low voice, and I could not control the fresh tears rolling down my cheeks.

"This is ridiculous," I muttered and tied the knots, wanting the blood to stop.

"I know it's painful, Abhi, but it's painful for me, too," I tried to say, but he looked away, shaking his head.

"You do not even understand a bit of this," he said, and I looked down, inhaling deeply, trying to control myself.

"Okay, I might not, but," I tried to say and stepped closer to him, holding his hand. I placed my hand on his chest, touched his chin with my index finger nervously, and he looked at me, "But, I will sit right beside you, no matter where you sit," I tried to say, and a trail of fresh tears rolled down his cheek.

"Please do not hurt yourself," I tried to say, "Be... because it hurts me here," my voice broke, adding up, while I placed his hand on my chest, over my heart.

I did not understand this pain. I did not know what it was and why it was.

But seeing him like this was my worst nightmare of mine. He might have done things that I hated from the bottom of my heart, but seeing him touching the bottom of his life was not bearable.

He immediately pulled his hand back and walked away to pick up his clothes from the floor.

"You only speak for my father," he muttered and walked away from there to behind the changing area.

I closed my eyes.

I did not speak for his father. I could not help but end up in a situation like this, where my feelings for him would fade away, and I would have to speak for anyone but him.

Inhaling a deep breath, I looked around, knelt to pick up the turban, and placed it on the table. It was a beautiful, deep red one with an ornament kept aside.

I gulped, rebuilding my courage. I picked up all the jewelry and kept it in its place as well. My sight fell on a maroon shawl matching the turban. My eyes swelled up again.

I knew this was difficult for him. I always knew that he wanted different things in life. He was the one who preferred peace over chaos, he liked silence, he liked solace.

He was less talkative, strongly opinionated and had reasons for everything he did in his life. And, it was not difficult for him to understand that the day he had been running from birth was not far now.

And, even today, it was.

The man who wanted a war, because his friend hurt his sister, could not initiate one despite having everything with him. He was not comfortable with any of this.

And, somewhere, I could understand why he would run away from the kingdom often. It was burdening, killing, choking, and something that kills people very slowly.

I closed my eyes. I could not see him like this. He was angry, and he was hurt.

He asked me to leave, too.

The person who was dying to have me just casually asked me to leave.

This could not get any worse from here.

Inhaling deeply, I opened my eyes and noticed him emerging from the changing area in a plain white, foot-length loincloth and a thin kurta.

His eyes looked intense and dangerous after crying. They were slightly red, and the way his soft curls fell over his forehead, I could not help but look away.

"Abhi," I muttered as he walked past me. He did not listen, and I could not help but hold his hand.

"Abhi, please," I muttered and walked closer to him.

He tightened his jaw, looking away from me.

"What have I done in any of this? What is my mistake?" I tried to ask, but I felt like breaking down at any moment.

"Nothing. And I do not understand why you are doing it, either," he said, looking back at me. His intense eyes pierced my gaze without hesitation, and I felt my knees weaken.

"You did not even want to be the Queen; what changed?" he asked, and I gulped and shook my head.

"Everything has changed, Abhi," I muttered. "Circumstances have changed, life has changed, you have changed, and I have... changed," he scoffed, staring blankly into my eyes.

"He is your father, Abhi," I tried to say, but suddenly, he pulled me closer in anger and pushed my hand behind my back. My eyes widened as I felt a few bangles breaking on my wrist.

His eyes looked deeply into my eyes with something I could not comprehend. "I know he is my father, but that does not mean he would hold its reins as if I were nothing but a horse. You tell me, what is my mistake in any of this? Why am I suffering all of this? Why am I turning into someone I do not want to?" he asked in a low voice, and I let a fresh trail of tears roll down.

"Because you are born a royal," I muttered, and he immediately left my hand and inhaled deeply.

I blinked nervously and caressed my hand. Pulling the broken pieces, I threw them down on the floor.

"Abhi," I muttered, and he walked away from there and sat down on the couch, leaning forward with his head in his hands.

"I do not want any of this, Trisha. He just wants to leave me, and he is doing this because he wants to know how I will handle the Kingdom. And I hate the Kingdom. I will... fucking burn it into ashes because it takes everything away," he exclaimed in anger, and I collected my strength to walk towards him.

I could feel the sweat on my palm, my heartbeats were racing, and my chest ached.

"Abhi," my voice hardly came out as I stood before him.

He did not listen and sat down, kneeling before him. "I am your first Kingdom, Abhinandan Mahabalesh; burn me down," I said, gathering my courage. He moved his hands off his face and looked into my eyes.

I looked into his emotional, red eyes and cupped his cheeks.

"Come on, burn me down," I muttered, and he lowered his gaze, blinking silently. I made him look up at me, "Hold the torch, light the fire, and burn me first," I muttered.

He immediately held both of my hands off his cheeks and pushed them behind, I rose a little and my heart almost came out. Our faces came close and I could tell that he did not like what I said.

My lips trembled, and I blinked, trying to touch his finger with mine behind me.

"I went to Pratapgarh to meet you. Certainly, it all began with me, does it not?" I asked and noticed his eyes staring into mine with anger. "So, if you want to burn anything, you should begin with me," I added in a low voice. He tightened his hands on my wrists, and I could not help but cry out inaudibly.

My eyes shut closed for a moment.

"Say it one more time, and you will regret stepping into this room," he muttered, and I opened my eyes and stared back into his.

"How about you make me regret stepping into your life first?" I asked, and he gritted his teeth. I felt the dupatta slipping down my head. The slight breeze tickled against my almost-naked blouse, and I could not help but say.

"Abhinandan Mahabalesh, you are born to be a King. " The moment those words came out of my mouth, he put one hand on my cheek, his thumb over my chin, and muttered in anger.

"Careful with the next words of yours," his voice sent a shiver down my spine.

"You are born to be a King," I muttered again, and he cupped my neck and pulled me even closer that I could barely speak, but I did, "It does not matter that you hate to hear it, but today or tomorrow you have to take the responsibility. And you cannot blame others for it. It is not your parents' mistake, not mine and my dear husband... It's not your mistake either," my voice came out lower than I expected, and I noticed his gaze soften.

"You will be a great King, Abhi," I managed to say.

"I know you are scared of your softness, you are scared of making decisions, and you do not want to hurt anyone. But all of these are not weaknesses but strengths to be someone no one could ever be," I said and felt his hold loosen on my hands.

"I know it's too soon, I know it's earlier than you expected, and I am the last person you expected to hear it from, but, Abhi," I muttered and brought my hand to cup his cheek, "Your father is in immense pain and what is wrong in seeing a son outshine his father in his presence," I tried to say. He lowered his gaze, hiding the tears appearing in his eyes.

"Abhi," I lifted his face to look into his eyes, "I will never leave you," I exclaimed.

"Never," I repeated, and he shook his head.

"I know you will," he said, and I shifted closer, placed my hands on his thighs, and looked up into his eyes.

"I will not. How can I?" I asked, a trail of tears rolling down my cheeks, "Where will I go leaving you? To my father? As if he would accept me," I said, and he looked into my eyes.

"You promised to fall with and walk with me. And, now, you are forgetting your promises," I tried to say, and he shook his head.

"He will leave me. He will leave everyone," he broke into cries, and I immediately pulled him closer and snaked my arms around his neck.

"You know, he just wants to see two things before he dies. Me, becoming a King and a grandchild, and we are just fulfilling his wishes so that he can leave us soon," his muffled, breaking voice broke me into tears, too.

I shook my head and caressed the back of his head.

"We are doing this because he can leave us peacefully," I said, and he immediately wrapped his hands tightly around me to pull me closer to him. I lost my balance as he just picked me up to his lap like a leaf.

My heartbeats raced up as he pressed his face into my chest and broke into cries. I closed my eyes, wrapped my arms around his neck, and placed my chin on his head.

"I hate him, I hate him so much," he exclaimed in a breaking voice, and I could not help but close my eyes.

"I will be alone, Trisha. I will be so alone. There will be no one to handle it. If I fail, there will be no one to control. If I run, there will be no one if I do not want it," he cried and pressed his face even more into my chest.

"I will be so alone. Not just alone, but a hundred thousand people are expecting me to become their father when I am fatherless. They would want me to support them when I am all alone. From where will I get all this strength, I will fail, I know," he cried and I tried to caress and kiss his head.

"This is the game where I cannot afford even to slip, and... how will I manage not to fall without him," he asked, and I closed my eyes, caressing his head.

He had to manage, and he knew it. It was not an option there was not an option.

And this was the strange thing about royalty I learned today.

From outside of the Kingdom, the walls seem strong and impregnable, but from inside, you could notice the shattering.

And, seeing him breaking like this, this much in pain, I could not even have the slightest idea what he had been going through in reality.

He was not just his father; he was his strength, the ladder to his happiness, liberty, and all the things he could do without thinking twice. And this moment was like someone was running the saw through that ladder—very slowly, bit by bit, moment by moment, weakening it, shaking him and breaking him, waiting for him to fall.

Each day would be painful, and it is unknown when it will be completely broken.

The sudden fall does not hurt but imagine falling moment by moment, each day, longing for it to end, and knowing it would never.

I could never understand his pain.

He sobbed with tears, and I caressed his back slowly, trying to calm him down.

He turned silent, and I could sense his eyes closed, his cheeks and eyes red, and his hands frozen around me.

I lifted my chin slowly and gently kissed his head.

I hoped I could tell him if he did not have to do it, he should not.

But, it was not an option.

Being a King or not was never an option. It was the destiny you were born with; the only escape from it was dying.

But true royals never kill themselves; they kill their enemies, even if the enemies are their desires, wishes, and longings.

He had stopped crying, so I gently pulled back and cupped his cheek. Leaning in, I kissed his forehead.

He inhaled deeply, and I could not stop kissing his forehead again.

He was still a sixteen-year-old Abhi who hated going away. This was why he was bad at making friends: when separation hurts, as all of us are meant to leave each other, it becomes unbearable.

So, it's better never to come closer.

But, we had come closer, so much closer than two could ever be. It was not just about the physical intimacy but also what we had shared throughout all these years and what we share now.

I could not pinpoint what it was, but it was something that could keep the two together even in their lowest moments.

And this day was meant to change things for us even faster than ever.

"Abhi, are you okay?" I asked in a low voice and noticed him slowly pulling back, his gaze low and embarrassing.

He nodded silently.

I gulped silently and felt his strong thighs beneath mine. I immediately looked away with nervousness and tried to stand up.

But before I could, I felt his hand holding mine.

I looked back at him when he said, "Do not ever leave me, Trisha; I will be ruined more than ever,"

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