The morning sun barely touched the mansion's marble bones, drowned beneath thick curtains and thicker silence.

Aryaveer Raizada woke not with a gasp, but with a groan that cracked through the stillness like thunder in a tomb.

His skin burned. Fever clung to him like a second skin-hot, suffocating. Each breath dragged through his chest like smoke over shattered glass. Sweat soaked his sheets, sticking his dark hair to his forehead in clumps.

And something else: a sharp sting beneath the fog of illness.

Anger-

Memories from last night burned into his mind like a broken mirror, igniting a fire inside his chest as he hurled the vase on the bedside table to the ground.

And when his gaze moved towards the doorway, his fist clenched.

Heer stood at the doorstep with a glass of lemonade in her hand. She was wearing a bland shalwar-kameez, a dupatta tucked at her side. She had probably borrowed the outfit from some maid since he hadn't brought her a single dress except for the gown for the party when his sister returned.

When her gaze met his, it held a fear Aryaveer always wanted to witness as she shivered under his gaze. Aryaveer smirked.

"The headmaid told me to bring you this-" Heer said, her voice small and trembling.

Aryaveer's gaze burned into her as he ordered, "Came to me walking on the shattered vase."

Heer didn't hesitate.

She said nothing.

She stepped forward.

One step. A shard sliced into the ball of her foot.

She walked forward as blood bloomed in delicate petals across the marble.

Aryaveer watched.

Aryaveer watched.

Watched her cross the battlefield like a queen in chains. Her face unreadable. Her silence louder than any scream.

And when she reached him, eyes steady despite the blood at her heels, he smiled.

A sick, satisfied smile.

"Kneel before your owner," Aryaveer ordered.

She knelt gracefully, mechanically, and gently placed her palm on his burning forehead.

He took the glass lemonade juice from her hand and kept it on the side table.

"You have a fever," she said simply. Calm. Cold.

No accusation. No softness. No hatred.

Just... emptiness.

Aryaveer's smile faltered.

Something shifted.

Not in the room. In him.

Her hand, small, warm, steady, rested against his skin like a balm he hadn't known he needed.

Her blue eyes weren't accusing. They weren't pleading.

They were hollow.

And somehow, that hurt more.

Aryaveer grabbed her hand, which was resting on his forehead, squeezing her hand enough to hurt.

"Did I tell you to touch me?" he asked, his voice low but dangerous.

Heer stayed silent.

"DID I ASK YOU TO TOUCH ME?" he shouted as she flinched away from him, dragging her hand away from his grip.

"No," she sobbed, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Never touch me without my permission; you are just a bitch living on my expenses. Don't forget your place, whore," he spat.

Heer's whole body trembled under his sharp gaze. Her tears didn't stop as she tried to rise to her feet but failed due to her injury.

"Please, don't call me that," her voice was barely a whisper but loud enough for him to understand.

Aryaveer laughed.

"Pathetic."

Heer got up but stumbled on her feet, pain burning into her skin as she whimpered.

"Where are you going?" Aryaveer asked.

"Umm... my room," she replied, her body shivering due to pain.

"You are not going anywhere. If I am suffering, you will suffer with me, and now sit on the ground," Aryaveer said.

She sat on the ground as Aryaveer lay down again. She sat cross-legged and pulled the tiny shard out from her foot, each moment bringing a sharp pain.

When she was done, she tore her dupatta and tied it around her feet.

She looked up at him and found he was already looking at her.

"Did it hurt?" he asked casually.

She blinked up at him and shook her head.

Would it matter if it hurt? she thought.

"From now on, you are not allowed to sit anywhere but on the floor. You won't eat at the dining table. You won't sit on the sofa or the bed. Understand?" Aryaveer declared. His voice sent chills down her spine, but she nodded.

Aryaveer looked at Heer, who was staring at her lap as if it were the most interesting thing.

When Aryaveer slept, Heer got up; her legs trembled beneath her.

Heer walked to the bathroom and found a clean cloth. She filled a bowl with cold water and brought it to Aryaveer. She set the bowl on the side table and wetted the cloth as she began to wipe his forehead with the cold cloth until she felt his temperature decreasing.

When she was done, she put everything in its place and sat down on the floor again.

She didn't know when she passed out on the floor as sleep consumed her.

Aryaveer opened his eyes as his gaze traveled to where Heer was lying, deep in sleep, oblivious to the world around her. Oblivious to the storm inside him.

"Why did she take care of me?"

"Why did she stay?"

"She is in pain herself, but still-"

The endless questions took root inside him as doubt began to form.

Why did she take care of the man whose mother she had killed?

Aryaveer made her stay in his room the whole day until midnight.

He had finally allowed her to go to her quarters at midnight when he couldn't sleep due to a unfamiliar ache in his chest.

The floor remain uncleaned still marked by her blood

And maybe aryaveer liked it this way.

■□■□■□■□■

The morning sun bled through the curtains when Mahira Raizada-Khanna swept into Aryaveer's bedroom like a storm wrapped in silk.

She was still every inch a Raizada-sharp chin held high, kohl-lined eyes glinting with mischief, her maroon designer suit hugging her curves. The only difference? The heavy diamond mangalsutra around her neck, a gleaming shackle that marked her as Ayansh Khanna's wife.

Aryaveer sat up, his fever still clinging to him like a second skin.

"Took you long enough to visit," he rasped.

Mahira smirked, perching on the edge of his bed like a queen on a throne. "Husbands get possessive. Especially when their wives sneak off to see their terrifying older brother. But honestly he tire me out with his protectiveness he himself came to drop me here and left atleast ten guards for my protection"

Aryaveer's gaze darkened. "You're still with him."

"And you're still obsessed with that," she shot back, flicking her wrist dismissively. Then her eyes dropped to the shattered vase, the dried blood on the floor. A slow, feline smile curled her lips. "Ah. I see you've been... entertaining yourself."

Aryaveer followed her gaze to where Heer had stood last night, bleeding silently at his command.

Mahira leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Does she cry? Beg? Or does she just take it like a good little doll?"

Aryaveer's jaw tightened. *"She's nothing."

Mahira laughed-a sound like shattering glass. "Oh, Bhaiya. You always did lie terribly."

"What do you mean mahira." Aryaveer growled.

Mahira's gaze sharpened as her smirk vanished.

"I mean that you should stick to your revenge bhaiya. Don't get softened for your wife ever" Mahira said. “Our mother, aprajita raizada died brutally at that girl's hand and we couldn't save her. Veer bhaiya we couldn't” her shoulder slumped as aryaveer hugged her rubbing her back to soothe her.

"Ofcource, i will"

■□■□■□■□■

The dining hall was drapped in crystal.

Aryaveer sat at the head of the table, Mahira lounging beside him like a satisfied cat. Servants flitted around them, laying out plates of ghee-laden parathas, steaming poha, and masala tea in delicate china.

Then

Heer entered, barefoot, her steps slow from last night's wounds.

Mahira's eyes lit up.

"Ah! Mrs. Raizada," she purred, twirling a spoon between her fingers. "How... underwhelming."

Heer didn't react. She simply stood near the wall, hands folded, eyes down the perfect, broken doll.

A maid handed her a jug of water.

Silently, Heer moved to fill Aryaveer's glass first.

Mahira watched, her smirk widening as Heer's fingers trembled slightly.

"Tell me, Bhaiya," Mahira mused, "does she eat with us?"

Aryaveer's fingers tightened around his fork.

"She eats where I tell her to eat."

He held out his hand. A servant rushed to place a plate in it.

Aryaveer piled it high paratha, spicy aloo sabzi, a spoon of aamras. Then he held it out to Heer.

"Here."

Heer took it, her blue eyes flickering up for just a second empty. Always empty.

"On the floor," Aryaveer ordered.

Mahira's laugh was a blade.

Heer lowered herself gracefully onto the cold marble, legs folded beneath her. She ate slowly, mechanically, as if she couldn't taste a thing.

Mahira leaned over, her voice saccharine. "Is it good, bhabhi? Or do you prefer the taste of blood?"

Heer paused. Then

"It's good," she whispered.

Mahira's grin turned vicious. "Aw. How polite." She flicked a grape at Heer's head. It bounced off her temple, leaving a tiny wet mark.

Heer didn't flinch.

Aryaveer's chest burned.

Mahira sighed, twirling her hair. "Honestly, Bhaiya, I expected more fire from the girl who murdered our mother."

Aryaveer's voice was ice. "She'll burn. Slowly."

Mahira hummed, stealing a piece of jalebi from his plate. "Promise?"

Heer kept eating, her silence louder than any scream.

And Aryaveer-

Aryaveer watched.

Why won't you fight back?

Why won't you break?

Mahira kicked Heer's plate under the table with her heel. The porcelain shattered, food scattering across the floor.

"Oops."

Heer stared at the mess. Then, without a word, she began picking up the pieces, her fingers bleeding where the ceramic cut.

Mahira clapped. "Such a good pet!"

Aryaveer stood abruptly, his chair screeching. "Enough."

Mahira blinked up at him, all faux innocence. "What? I'm just playing."

Aryaveer's voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "Leave."

Mahira rolled her eyes but stood, dusting invisible lint off her suit. "Fine. But Bhaiya?"She patted his cheek. "Don't forget-she's the enemy."

Then she sauntered out, leaving behind the stench of perfume and poison.

Aryaveer messaged his guards to escort mahira safely.

The he looked down at Heer, still kneeling among the broken plate.

"Clean it up," he snarled.

Heer nodded.

And as Aryaveer walked away, he couldn't shake the thought-

Who's really the monster here?

_____________________

Author's Note: I know this chapter is quite overwhelming, and Heer is suffering a lot. But I bet you’re all going to pity Aryaveer in the upcoming chapters—not just because he has a tragic past (which he does), but because Heer is going to hurt him far more than he ever hurt her (i don't know about you guys but thats going to be my fav phase.)

Stay tuned if you want to see how a damsel rises to become a queen!