Page 8 of Sumanika

I rushed in his direction.

Before processing anything, I moved closer, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist.“I thought I’d lost you,” my voice trembled. Tears fell like a river.

He placed his hand on my head.“I just went to wash up in the river and pick some fruit,” he explained, and I tightened my fist against his back even more.

My entire body shook. What if someone had taken me from here? I wasn’t afraid of death, but the thought of being burned alive wouldn’t leave my mind.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Everything is okay; you’re safe,” he said, nuzzling me away.

I nervously wiped my tears, looking at him.“You should have at least told me,”

“I told you to wait for me there. You didn’t listen,” he stated aguishly, and I immediately stepped back.

He was the prince; I shouldn’t have hugged him like that. What was I even thinking?

“I’m sorry, I really am sorry,” I said, taking a few more steps away before walking back toward the cottage with him, keeping my distance.

We both entered the cottage. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed his wet hair and his reasonably clean clothes. He had taken a bath.

“I got this for you to eat,” he said, handing me two apples. I took them with trembling fingers and asked,“Do we need to stay here for the night?”

He sat on the floor, resting his back against the wall and nodding.“We don’t have any options. My horse needs rest, too, and the dense forest covers the path. It’s not safe to travel at night,” he explained in a tired tone. I lowered myself to the floor and wrapped my dupatta around me as snugly as possible.

I didn't know, but I couldn't accept that he had married me. It meant he was my husband now. No... Nooo!

“Aren’t you going to miss your husband?” he asked, catching my attention and biting into an apple.

I gulped slightly, shaking my head.“No,”

He lowered his gaze to his lap for a moment.“Why?” The black soldier attire made of leather, adorned with long strings tied over his broad chest, caught my attention. I noticed a drop of blood on the silver fasteners. It must have come from my forehead after he… did that.

I took a deep breath, looking down at my fidgeting fingers.“He never considered me his wife,” I said.

"How long had you been married?”

I blinked silently, momentarily. The weight was burdening. "Eight years," I said.

“How old are you? You look so young,” he seemed shocked, inquiring.

“Twenty-three.”

He inhaled deeply.“You got married at sixteen,”

I nodded, ashamed.“Yes, and the irony is I was excited to get married,”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because everyone told me I would get a new home after the wedding, that there would be someone to take care of me and all the dreamy things,” I murmured, taking another bite of the apple.

“What went wrong then?” he asked, chewing on his apple.

I gulped, taking a pause. "Everything,"

He nodded.

My heart felt heavy under the weight of old memories. Those nights when I’d scream, and he wouldn’t stop. The days when I’d look for a place to hide so he wouldn’t grab me. Memories of his intoxicated state, in which he would hit and mock me in front of his friends, allowing them to touch me inappropriately to prove how unattractive I was.

“Do you have any... children?” he asked, gazing at me.

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