Diya (pov)

I look at him... still trembling.. scared of my own mind. I was just going to kill myself! I was giving up on my own life..

"this life.. is not yours anymore. These precious tears are not yours. It is all Mine.. every damn inch.. from your soul to your outer body. It is all Mine. So don't you ever dare to repeat such stunt ever again.. I will decide, your life and your death... because from the moment your husband sold you to me.. he sold your body and soul to me. So Angel.. I own you, body and soul." He whispers near my ear, and slightly nips on my ear.

Did he just call me Angel? I am no angel... I am just a plaything for men like the Prince and men like him. The whole day flashes in front of my eyes... the marriage, Prince trying to rape me... then Nawaab attacking our palace... Nawaab, the new king.

All incidents rushing back... taking a toll on me.. "I AM NOT AN ANGEL!... I AM A BROKEN TOY!" I shout and breakdown. Finally all the bottled up anger, frustration, helplessness coming out.

"I am Just a toy.. to touch whenever you want.. to play with whenever you wish and to throw after use." I whisper, now losing my voice. He is still on top of me just staring at me in silence.. letting me cry. After a long moment.. he gets up and pulls me up with him.

I don't look at him.. embarrassed of my actions. "We are going to get married tomorrow" he states making me turn my head up in shock. He says this with a straight face. My head feels heavy.. what the hell is happening... Marriage??? Where did it come from???

"Are you mad??? Why would I willingly marry you??? I am already married to---" I start but "to whom ha? That fool who sold you for his own life? Hmm? Tell me Diya?" he cuts me off while he casually rotates the wine glass in his hands.

"But that does not mean I will marry you! I don't want toooo!!! I don't want to marry you nor do I want to be known as Prince's wife anymore. I want.... I want" I inhale trying to control my panicked breathing. He is still standing there like a statue oblivious.. with a blank expression, focusing on the wine glass.

"I want to be free.. free from this nightmare." I exhale. I look for any reaction from him but he seems to ignore my rant.

"I don't want to.. I will not marry you. You all are the same!!!! You are no different than the prin—" he throws away the wine glass... making me jerk out of fear. I blink...and in a second he grabs my chin in a painful hold... I am unable to speak.

"Don't you dare complete that sentence. Don't you dare compare me with that clown." He frowns in anger. I try to respond but his hold tightens, making me whimper..

" you will marry me tomorrow.." he moves his face closer to mine "or be ready to be a whore for my men." his lips brush mine... touching the strings of my racing heart. He is saying such vile things to me... but I am lost in his actions. His hold on my chin is no longer painful.. rather he is caressing my jawline... with such light feather touch.. as if I might break.

His actions and his words don't match.. if someone looks at us now from afar.. I bet it would look like two lovers showering love on each other. But the words he just said break my trance.. brings me out of my dreamland... which will forever remain a dream.

His words remind me of the time when we first met. I was soo happy and naive to think that he gave me choice unlike others in my life. Yes he gave me a choice... which was to either run or stay with them for their entertainment. I wass soooo naïve to think of his options to be a choice for me. It was all pretense.. never a choice. I agree that it turned out to be in my favour. But the conditions or choices he is giving me today are a lot similar to that day.... Marry him or become a whore for his men.

I try to push him away but his light caress on my chin turns to a tight hold again.. making all my struggle to get out of his hold be in vain. "pick your poison Angel" he smirks but in anger.. probably because of my struggles to get out of his hold. This time he stated the truth.. both the options are a poison... both will kill me. One would kill me emotionally ... other.... other would kill me both mentally and physically.

Fine.. if this is what I deserve.. if this is what I am meant to do to survive.. if this is what my god.. any superior power I ever believed in.. has decided to be my fate. Fine..

Maybe I will write my own fate now.. I will write my own story. And for that I must possess that kind of power.. great power. "Fine I will marry you" I respond with a straight face.. finally feeling like I am alive.. like I have a purpose in life.

He backs off a bit with a smirk on his face.. his hand caressing my cheeks as he releases his grip on my chin. "picked the right kind of poison... always knew you were not some dumb girl" he pats my cheeks and turns to leave the room. Leaving me alone in my room... feels like I am finally alone and alive with my thoughts after a longggg time.

Next Day

Once again I am dreading to become a bride. Few Daasi's are trying their best to at least make me look like a happy bride. The only difference is the absence of my relatives and..... my Ma Sa.

I was trying not to think about her since yesterday.. but her happy face, her excited but a bit of sad face flashes in front of my eyes. I still remember her sweet smile, her soft motherly touches... my sweet Ma Sa.

The news of the attack at the royal palace must have spread all around the village.. I just hope she doesn't come to know of my present state.

I just hope.. she---- she assumes I am locked with others.. or better... that I died. Then she will not hold any false hopes.

"Princess.. it's time" one of the Daasi breaks my thoughts. I look at all of them.. they all look helpless and gloomy... just the way I feel.

I smile at them trying to lift up their spirits... but it's all lies, and they know it. I walk towards the door of my room.. the room which I entered as a newly married bride.

In the King's Courtroom ( Darbaar)

As I walk towards my seat... It feels like Déjà vu.. I look up the other people in the courtroom, all his men and some Das and Dassis.

He is sitting on the throne.. like it was made for him. "lets get this over with" the Nawaab orders. An elder comes forward and proceeds with the rituals. This is obviously not like any typical wedding and definitely not a Hindu wedding, so I don't know much.. I just go with the flow, doing as I am told.

Finally.. all the rituals are done and the same man pronounces us as lawfully wedded husband and wife. That's all I understand. That is all I am. Now a wife of the 'Nawaab'.

"Today.. we will leave for Delhi Sultanate, Our Home.. our Empire!!" The Nawaab declares as his Men shake the Palace walls with their uproar of chants. "Long live Shehzaade Nawazuddin!" "Long Live the Prince of Delhi!!" with each roar.. I realize... I was sooo oblivious... about him.. about my Husband who is not just a Nawaab... But the Prince of Delhi Sultanate.

Dham dham dham.....rotates the camera over all your shocked faces. hehe. ;)

i hope you all loved and enjoyed this chapter!! i hope i did not disappoint you all in any way.

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