My throat felt parched.....Water... I want Water. I opened my eyes and there was still darkness, but I could see. I turned to my side and gasped... Rajkumarji... Oh God.. We... We... Oh he is my husband. He was sleeping on his stomach... His head was turned to the other side but his hand was on my.. Chest... I quickly got away from him. He didn't seemed to notice... He woke me up too many times at Night. I could still not feel my body, I feel numb all over. I walked over to water and drank water to my heart's content. I saw a small shine near my feet. I followed it's rays up and there was a small mirror, Maybe meant for tents. I went near it lumping and tears started tickling my eyes as I saw my reflection. I had marks almost all over my body. I am not dressed... Oh God..

I searched with great difficulty everywhere near the bed for my Ghaghra...at last I found it behind, the bed. He must have thrown it.. I quickly wore it and tried covering myself with my arms, I went out and found my pallu and veil and my blouse.. Tattered... I came running inside the tent.. I tied my pallu such that it covered my entire upper body...and veiled myself. As I saw him sleeping peacefully, tears started falling from eyes. It was not because of my physical pain neither due to the humiliation that my villagers and a man to whom my parents promised me were going to throw at my face. My tears were tears of fear... Life in palace, a palace where people poison each other. Power hungry women and men live. That place where mothers don't raise their children, a maid does. The palace where, threat was constant... This is the place my husband has lived all his life... That is the place I would need to start calling home. Suddenly the tent, which introduced me to a new life started feeling stuffy. I ran out.

I saw a stone there and sitting in it, I started crying. Suddenly I lost track of why I was crying. My parents.... They came to mind, my poor life style, I don't even remember how many days I went hungry before getting a job as cooking assistant... Suddenly, I could remember all my sufferings and I started crying. I cried for only God knows how long before I felt his hand in my shoulders, I looked at him, I can identify his touch already. His hands are rough. "What is it my love that makes you cry the next morning of wedding?" he asked gently. I stared at him. He didn't looked tired, he looked the same he had when I first saw him. He was dressed in simple dhoti and shawl like a commoner. A good woman never lies to her husband, Varsha. My aunt had said me, when she confessed to her husband about her giving money to my mother. She was beat that night, for favouring her sister, not in laws. So I decided to confess, to him but in sweeter words, "My Lord, I am a engaged woman, I fear what people might say. And what I fear more is how a poor Brahmin's daughter like me, live with you in palace." the words left my mouth but ideas scared. Does he hate me for taking such a big promise from him? But he looked at me tenderly.. I was shocked, this is not the same man, I spent the night with... He looked gentler and then he smiled..