The palace kitchen was bustling with activity as Myra stood awkwardly near the counter, her fingers brushing against the edge of her dupatta. The scent of freshly ground spices filled the air, mingling with the sound of soft laughter.
"Why only women should cook?" Rajeshwari's voice rang out, a playful lilt in her tone as she glanced at her son. "Ranvijay, make something spicy. A little effort won't kill you."
Ranvijay, who had been leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. His dark gaze flickered to Myra, and a smirk tugged at his lips. "Why not?" he mused, rolling up his sleeves. "After all, if Myra is the sweet one, someone has to add spice to this marriage."
Myra's cheeks heated at his teasing tone, and before she could retort, Dadi Sa chuckled. "Just like in food, a couple needs both sweetness and spice to balance their life."
Anika grinned, nudging Myra lightly. "Careful, Bhabhi. Bhai is known for making things extra fiery."
Myra huffed, crossing her arms. "Then I'll make something sweet to balance it out."
Rajeshwari clapped her hands together. "Perfect! Myra, you make kheer, and Ranvijay will prepare a spicy curry. Let's see whose dish wins over the family."
As Myra busied herself stirring the kheer, she felt a warm presence beside her. Before she could turn, Ranvijay leaned in close, his breath teasing her ear. "Don't get too distracted, sweetheart" he murmured, his voice rich with amusement. "Or I might have to feed you myself."
Her hand faltered on the spoon, and she shot him a glare, though her face betrayed her flustered state. Shiv, who had been watching the entire exchange, burst into laughter. "Bhai, let Bhabhi focus! You're going to make her mess up."
Rajeshwari shook her head fondly. "You two are impossible."
Dadi Sa, watching the growing bond between them, simply smiled.
Dinner had turned into an unexpectedly lively affair. The family gathered in the grand dining hall, the aroma of spices filling the air as Ranvijay served the curry he had made under Rajeshwari's guidance. Myra, on the other hand, had prepared kheer, its sweet fragrance balancing the sharpness of Ranvijay's dish.
The first bite had Shiv dramatically gasping for air, gulping down water. "Bhai, did you cook this or set it on fire?" he coughed.
Anika laughed, nudging Myra. "Looks like you'll have to cook for him every day now."
Before Myra could respond, Ranvijay leaned back in his chair and smirked. "I'll cook every day…" He turned his gaze to Myra, his voice dropping into a low murmur. "...if Myra eats from my hands."
Her breath caught.
Dadi Sa chuckled, shaking her head. "A couple should be like this—sweet and spicy. That's how life stays balanced."
Rajeshwari smiled warmly. "That's true. And I always say, even men should know how to cook. Why should only women do it?"
Ranvijay, still looking at Myra, picked up a piece of roti and dipped it into the curry. "Then let's see, Myra… will you eat?"
Myra's cheeks warmed as the entire table watched. She wanted to refuse just to wipe that smug look off his face, but something about the way he held the bite out for her made her fingers twitch.
Shiv whistled. "Looks like Bhai's challenge is serious."
Anika grinned. "Myra bhabhi, if you refuse, he might just cook again and burn the whole kitchen down."
Rajeshwari laughed, while Dadi Sa watched in amusement.
Myra shot Ranvijay a glare before leaning in slightly and taking a small bite.
The table erupted into cheers.
Ranvijay smirked in satisfaction, whispering just for her, "Good girl."
Myra looked away, her heart thudding. She didn't know what was more dangerous—the spice in the food or the fire in his eyes.
The warmth of the kitchen lingered even as dinner had ended, the aroma of spices still hanging in the air. Ranvijay's spicy curry had left everyone reaching for water, but no one could deny that it was full of flavor. Rajeshwari had laughed, teasing, "You wanted to burn our tongues, didn't you, Ranvijay?"
Dadi Sa had only shaken her head with amusement, declaring, "A husband who cooks for his wife is a rare treasure."
Now, it was Myra's turn. She had prepared kheer—a simple, traditional dessert, but when the first spoonful touched their tongues, the room fell into silence.
Rajeshwari was the first to react, setting her spoon down gently. "This…" she murmured, as if struggling to find the right words.
Dadi Sa closed her eyes as she savored another bite. "It tastes like… prashad from the temple," she said with deep reverence.
Anika, usually playful, stared at Myra in awe. "Bhabhi, what did you put in this?"
Shiv, who had just taken a mouthful, gasped dramatically. "Did you go to heaven and bring this back?"
Even Ranvijay, who was usually the one teasing, remained silent for a moment before setting his spoon down with a smirk. "So, my wife is not just beautiful, but also knows how to cast spells in the kitchen."
Myra flushed, shaking her head. "It's just kheer."
Rajeshwari smiled warmly, placing a hand on Myra's. "No, dear. This is more than just a dish. It has your warmth, your care. That's why it tastes so divine."
Dadi Sa nodded approvingly. "The perfect balance to Ranvijay's fiery cooking. Just like you two will be in life—sweetness calming the spice."
Ranvijay leaned closer, murmuring just loud enough for Myra to hear, "Sweetness can't escape spice, Myra. You'll have to stay close to me, always."
Her breath hitched, but before she could reply, Shiv grinned and nudged Anika. "Now, should we leave these two alone?"
Laughter filled the room, breaking the spell, but Myra's heart still raced. Sweetness and spice. Balance. She didn't know about life, but at that moment, she knew one thing—Ranvijay would never stop closing the distance between them.
Later that night, the palace had quieted down. The warmth of the evening lingered, but a cool breeze drifted in through the open balcony. Myra sat on the cushioned swing, her fingers gently tracing the locket around her neck—the one with her mother's picture inside. The words of Rajeshwari and Dadi Sa echoed in her mind.
"The perfect balance… sweet and spicy… just like you two will be in life."
She sighed softly, opening the locket to reveal the familiar face. "Ma… you always told me to be strong, but… I don't know what to believe anymore."
The night was calm, but inside her heart, there was a storm. Was Ranvijay truly someone she could trust? Or was he just another master of deception like her father and stepmother?
Her thumb brushed over the tiny photograph. "I wanted to see you today, but I couldn't. Maybe… maybe it's for the best. You always said time reveals the truth, right?"
A sudden gust of wind rustled the sheer curtains behind her, sending a shiver down her spine. "If you were here, would you tell me to trust him?"
She didn't expect an answer. Only the distant sound of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves responded.
"But I can't let my heart decide so easily, Ma. Not when I don't even know the full truth."
She exhaled and shut the locket, holding it close for a moment before letting it rest against her skin.
As she sat in the stillness, she didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching until a familiar deep voice broke the silence.
"Talking to someone, Princess?"
She startled slightly and turned. Ranvijay stood in the shadows of the corridor, his gaze unreadable yet locked onto her.
For a moment, she didn't answer. Then, gripping the locket, she whispered, "Just my mother."
Ranvijay stepped closer, his voice softer now. "And what did she say?"
Myra swallowed, unsure if she should reveal her thoughts. But before she could decide, Ranvijay leaned down, resting one hand on the swing's chain beside her. His presence was too close, too overwhelming.
"If she were here, I think she'd tell you not to be so afraid of me."
Her breath caught. "And why would she say that?"
Ranvijay smirked slightly, his fingers brushing against a stray strand of her hair. "Because mothers always recognize when someone is willing to set the world on fire just to keep their daughter warm."
The words made her heart stutter, but before she could react, he straightened, his expression unreadable again. "Sleep, Myra. Tomorrow's another long day."
And just like that, he was gone.
Myra sat there, gripping her locket tightly.
Was that a warning? A promise? Or… something more dangerous?