Creating a Bdsm History!

Aarnav's P.O.V~

I wake up with an anguishing discomfort in my body. Uncommon but pleasant. The morning sings strangely today, the blazing sun's glimmers are sharper than the diverse days.

From the hue of the drapes to the bedsheet, feels foreign. I blink open my eyes, seizing the chamber to not be mine. It's hers!

My hands occupy a chunni, slightly covered around my wrists. What am I doing here? I brush my eyes to disembark the heaviness and recall how I ended up here.

Abruptly, a speech breaks in my head, alerting my whole body. "Prince, you're awake!" It's Nishtha. She's grinning for an unexplained reason, essentially struggling to tuck away her smile.

"Why am I here?" I inquire as I sit up on the sack, but swiftly the blanket drops from my chest, proving the nudeness. Nishtha immediately turns aside, covering more than a striking smile.

Quickly, panic embraces me. My brain ceases functioning as I lift the blanket. I'm nude!

Rage and concern surge through my body and fear takes charge as I stand tall, covering the blanket around my midriff. "Where is Aadhya?" Aadhya's in the garden. She notifies me and blocks me from rushing there.

"Prince, clean up first. She's informed me she'll be there until you meet her there." What kind of sick game is this?

Aadhya's P.O.V~

Here appears the grumpy, tall, and heated prince to ruin my morning tea. He strides with a frantic face and a huffing body. I guess he found out about what happened yesterday.

He was all delightful and submissive yesterday. Now, look at him.

"What did you do to me?" The reticent corner I chose is not silent anymore. Thank god! Others can't hear us. "What are all these marks on my body?" He sounds mad.

"You don't remember? We were tipsy and all over each other yesterday." Even my tone is infuriating him, which is very skittish and steady. "Just tell me, specifically, what did you do?"

"Did you not see the blood on the sheets?" I argue. I didn't recognize Aadhya was a virgin. Well, why wouldn't she be? But I discovered this from Nishtha.

His eyes practically fall off of his sockets and his concern becomes extremely evident on his face. Apart from the luxury, his mutilated face is what I wish to see every day.

"Listen, I didn't realize all of that would happen between us and it was both of us. You're responding as if I molested you when you were enjoying it the most."

"What do you mean?" He subdues his thundering speech down, and I stand up as rapidly as possible as his mother approaches us.

Her deep red, embroidered sari hails her to be the queen. Soon this will be me. How am I going to survive when it's troublesome just making it through as a princess?

"I notice you two are growing closer?" She displays a gentle but charming smile as we both represent our respect for her. "Yes, mother. We are growing closer." He lies positively, overwhelming me.

I hum in harmony with him as the queen adds, "would you like to have a stroll with me? Both of you?" We both nod and track behind her as she hauls me along with her.

"I'm not going to stretch this conversation. Since both of you might be exhausted. Regarding the prince awakened late today. Isn't that right, Aarav?" Nothing is hidden from his mother. She's not angry about it but is bantering. I smirk as he seeks to suppress his face.

"Cut back to the mark. I truly admire how you attended everyone, even with no recollection of them." I smile as she gives me an appreciative glance. "About that. Is your wound healing?" She offers motherly concern for me, which is certainly strange and peculiar to me.

"Yes. It is. The wound is easing and sinking every day." She nods as the prince walks quietly but attentively by her side. He buries his anger pretty well in how turbulent he sounds in front of me.

Aarnav's P.O.V~

Having a stroll, and feeding the birds has invariably been my mother's favorite part of the day. Her smile is genuine evidence of it, but why is Aadhya beaming like that? Feeding the birds can't be that fun.

Before minutes she was responding so bratty and now, look at her.

A strand of her hair sinks on her face as she perches on the slick meadow, extending the wheat for the birds. The sunshine golds her brown skin shade, drawing her brown eyes to illuminate better.

My heart leaped a pulse when she turned to me, grinning with pure joy. I practically ignore that I am angry with her.

I feel the air in my body shortening, my grips sweating, and the tone of all dying out with the melody of her amusement.

"You two will have to take off for my cousin's place tomorrow." My mother's approach wakes me up from my stupor and I acknowledge both of them standing and joining the tea table, steps away from us.

I accompany them as well, learning that the wedding of my cousin will shortly take place and we both have to join the wedding as a couple. This would indicate her recovery far more strongly, pinning the pin to it, and the recklessness of our bond.

Aadhya glances at me with the same sneering face that I think I've met before. Abruptly, the distant memory of last night peeks through my brain. She scowled just like that, but mischievously.

I recall her knotting something around my wrists. Was it the chunni I noticed this dawn?

What am I assuming? "So, will you be robust to go, Aadhya? If not, Aarnav can travel alone." Aadhya rejects any obstacle and complies with my mother, also accepting her scheme of me taking her through the market. I know what my mother is trying to do.

"Mother, she will not like it." I stare at Aadhya, lingering for her to sign with me, but like always, she does the contrary. "Look, she'll love it. She's settled all the time inside the palace. Present her some beauty in our kingdom.

"She's correct. I escorted her on the horse ride after her first week here and came back with an injury and after that, she's been inside. Sealed as I suggested. She's not prudent for anyone! Not even herself. "I would cherish to see the market with you, prince."

She's selling such a passive face in the presence of my mother when she's cunning as a witch. "Of course, I would take you out, my princess." I have to falsify it. I can't let my mother learn of my true feeling for her.

Guards adhere to us as we wander down the active street. Everyone around us is comprehensive of reverence and delight for us. I trudge behind her, keeping my eyes on her.

They approach her with more kindness as she treats every one of them with regard and honor. Something I didn't realize she was capable of.

She's been acting differently since her injury. Can a person wake up like that after such an event?

She adores everything as she wanders ahead. The stomach-aching smell of the cuisine, the splendid kurtas, and saris. Crafted wall hangers, wooden animals, and many diverse items. She casts eyes on each of them as if she's never seen it before.

My heart mellows as she walks by the stall of books. She seems to love books. She picks one and comes running to me, requesting me if she can buy it. "I want it!" I refused it for such an expression from her.

"You're going to be my husband, right? You'll get your money back with the dowry. Just buy this for me." There she is, with her picky arguments. "Alright."

She overjoys, growing a smile on my face. Somehow I can't avoid smiling. She purchases items from every stall. "This would look good on your mother. I mean, queen." When did she turn into this?

"You act as if you've never seen these things before?" I claim as she accepts the packed sari from the seller. "Yes. It's true. I've never been in the history."

"What?" She discounts it with the plain phrase, "nothing." Maybe it's the head injury talking. She's been strange otherwise.

Her smile lights up everything around me and, for the first time, I seem to appreciate the restless and muddy market. I've never been out here without my guards or without anything urgent to resolve.

"I'm hungry! I want to eat!" She yanks me to the narrow eating place. It's shabby, not etiquette for us to eat here, but she doesn't imply to mind it. She perches with a speed of a cheetah and calls for food right away.

"Will you be competent to chew that much chicken and rice?" I propose. She looks exasperated. She scoffs and responds. "How dare you? Never ask a woman how much she can eat!"

"Alright. I'm sorry. Eat whatever you wish." She goes on, traveling through the pages and advising me how influential books and literature are.

"These books carry emotions, history, and knowledge." She speaks with such passion and love for books. I marvel if she will ever display such affection for me. "Have you read anything other than the account ledgers?"

"Is that supposed to be an affront?" I argue, to which she protests. "Why do you think I only talk to disrespect you?"

"Because that's what you do to everyone." She mocks me by recreating my face. "Well, I'm not like that anymore."

"I don't believe that."

"Don't then." I assume this is the right time to inquire. I've been meaning to learn what happened last night. We got discontinued because of my mother, but now, no one will interrupt us.

"What took place last night?" Her face shifts to this unfamiliar passion. Why is she glaring at me like that? It prompts me of last night. Quickly striking me with laughter and her hands on my throat.

I recall her on my neck, causing pain through her teeth. Her hands swiftly tumble down my abdomen. "Are you okay?" She withdraws me from my precarious dilemma.

What was that? What took place last night?

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