Her fists ached. Her voice was raw.
An hour of pounding, yelling, throwing every curse she knew at the door… and the only response had been the faint shuffle of guards outside.
Finally, her strength gave out. She slid down the wall, her back hitting the cold stone, knees pulled up to her chest. Each breath came slow and heavy, her heartbeat still thudding in her ears.
The silence felt heavier than his shouting ever had.
She reached into her pocket out of habit—then froze.
Empty.
Her hand searched again, more frantic this time. She patted her other pocket, the folds of her shawl, even the cushions near her.
Gone.
It hit her like a sudden drop. He took my phone.
Her jaw tightened, a bitter laugh escaping despite the knot in her chest. "Of course you did," she muttered under her breath, picturing the look on his face when he'd slipped it away. Controlling. Calculating. Always one move ahead.
She leaned her head back against the wall, eyes closing.
This wasn't just about Rizwan or Suryaveer anymore.
It was war.
She sat there for a few minutes, forcing herself to breathe, to think.
Then her eyes flicked to the side table. Heavy. Solid wood. One of its legs looked loose.
In seconds, she was on her feet. She yanked at it, ignoring the splinters biting into her palm until it finally cracked free. The sound echoed in the chamber.
Her gaze locked on the ornate brass lock on the door. She tightened her grip on the wooden leg. Let's see how much your precious palace can hold, Abhimanyu.
The first strike sent a sharp clang through the air. The second rattled the frame.
Outside, she heard the shuffle of boots—female guards exchanging uneasy whispers.
Meera smirked, sweat on her brow.
Good. Let them be afraid.
She hit again. And again. The lock dented slightly, but it wasn't enough.
Frustration surged, but so did resolve. She stepped back, shoulders tense, preparing for another blow—
The next strike hit so hard the reverberation numbed her wrist.
From the corridor came hurried footsteps, then a sharp knock.
"Ma'am! Stop this—" the guard's voice wavered, "—you'll hurt yourself."
Meera froze just enough to listen. A second voice, lower, urgent, joined in.
"She's trying to break the door. We need to inform His Highness."
A pause. Then the sound of one of them running off down the hall.
Meera's lips curved into a small, defiant smile. Good. Let him know I'm not sitting quietly.
The remaining guard shifted uneasily outside, muttering something about "orders" and "trouble."
Meera lifted the table leg again, locking eyes with the heavy brass latch as if it were her enemy.
"You're not keeping me in here," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
Another blow landed, the echo still rattling the chamber door when heavy boots strode up the corridor.
"What the hell is going on here?" Daksh's voice cut through the air like a whip.
The two female guards straightened, almost in unison.
"Sir… Abhimanyu-sir's orders," one stammered, "Meera Maam is to remain inside—"
Daksh's jaw tightened.
"Meera?" he repeated, the disbelief in his tone making both women shift uncomfortably.
"Open. The. Door. Now."
The guards exchanged glances, hesitating for a beat too long.
"That was not a request," Daksh snapped, stepping forward until his shadow loomed over them.
Keys fumbled, metal scraped, and the latch finally clicked.
The door swung open, and Meera blinked at the sudden light. Her body sagged with exhaustion, but when her eyes met Daksh's, a wave of relief broke over her.
"Daksh…" she breathed, her voice trembling.
He stepped in, taking in her disheveled state with a frown. "You're safe now. And o am sending Dhriti for you."
And he lashed out of the room in a furious manner.
After 2 minutes
Two young women stepped in — one of them Dhriti, her poise sharp as a blade.
"Why is she locked in here?" Dhriti's voice cut through the air like glass.
The female guards exchanged uneasy glances. "Abhimanyu-sir's orders, Your Highness."
Dhriti's chin lifted, her royal bearing unmistakable.
"And my orders override his when it comes to a woman's dignity. leave Right Now."
The guards hesitated.
"That wasn't a request," Dhriti snapped, her tone turning imperious, each word laced with authority she had been raised to wield. "You dare disobey a princess of this palace?"
That did it — the guards backed away.
Meera looked up, eyes glistening, and Dhriti's expression softened only for her. "Come, we're getting you out of here."
The walk back to Dhriti's chambers was brisk, almost silent, save for Meera's ragged breathing. The moment they crossed the threshold, Meera's composure shattered.
She staggered toward the corner, clutching her stomach, and doubled over. Harsh, wet sounds filled the air as she retched, her body convulsing with the force of it.
"Meera!" Dhriti dropped to her knees beside her, one hand holding back her hair, the other rubbing circles into her back. "Breathe, sweetheart… it's okay, you're safe now."
But Meera couldn't stop. Her breaths came in rapid, shallow bursts, and she gripped Dhriti's wrist like it was the only thing anchoring her to the ground.
Dhriti's voice softened but stayed steady — the tone of someone who knew panic when she saw it. "Look at me. Inhale… exhale… slow."
Meera shook her head, tears streaking her flushed cheeks. "He— he took them… Rizwan… Surya…" Her voice broke into sobs.
Meera sat on the cushioned divan, still shaking, the water in her glass trembling against the rim.
"What happened?" Dhriti asked, leaning forward, her expression unreadable.
Meera told her everything — every detail spilling out in a rush. The meeting with Suryavir. Rizwan's role. Abhimanyu's sudden arrival. His fury. The way they dragged Rizwan and Suryavir away while she was shoved into the car.
Dhriti's gaze hardened with each word. When Meera finished, expecting outrage on her behalf, Dhriti's first words hit like a slap.
"How dare you meet Suryavir?"
Meera's breath caught. "You… you're angry with me?"
"I'm furious with you," Dhriti said sharply. "Locking you in a room was wrong — I'll say that. But everything else Abhimanyu did? He was right."
Meera's voice rose. "Right? He—"
"Rizwan put your life at risk," Dhriti cut in. "And Suryavir? He is exactly where he's supposed to be. Away from you. My cousin was protecting you — whether you like it or not."
The words settled like ice in Meera's chest. She stared at Dhriti, realizing with a sinking ache that the line between them wasn't friendship — it was blood and Blood is always thicker than water.