Chapter 2: Truths and Temptations

“Is Your Ladyship teasing this servant?”

Arjun looked at me, his gaze deep and steady.

His voice was low, almost reverent, as if he feared shattering the fragile silence between us. The lamplight caught in his eyes, making them gleam like polished onyx. For a moment, I nearly forgot the ache gnawing at my chest.

My eyes were half-lowered, falling at his waist and abdomen. A wolf’s waist and sinewy arms—sleek, powerful. How could this be the frail body of an ordinary palace attendant? I should have realised long ago.

The way his kurta clung to his form, the effortless grace with which he moved even in the stifling palace heat—no ordinary servant had such bearing. Only those trained in secret, those raised to be more than they seemed, wore such confidence like a second skin.

Men with strong waists are always fierce in storybooks; how could he be an exception? Besides, more than once he had been on the brink, just a step away—yet each time, at the crucial moment, he would retreat. Was it because he had always… been saving himself for someone else?

My breath caught. Stories nani told under the mango tree echoed in my mind—of kings in disguise, of betrayals written by fate. Had I, too, been living such a story, playing the fool?

I dug my nails into my palm, voice cold:

“Yes, I prefer real men, not… pretty but useless attendants.”

I tried to sound cutting, but my voice trembled at the edges. My fingers twisted the end of my dupatta—a desperate attempt to anchor myself. Somewhere, a koel called, its song mocking in the silence.

Arjun was gentle and handsome, so I never minded his indifference in bed. But that booklet cut me to the bone. I couldn’t bear that he still hid someone else in his heart.

The humiliation stung worse than any scolding from the Maharani. It wasn’t just jealousy—it was the ache of knowing I’d poured affection into a vessel already brimming with another’s name.

Arjun was silent for a moment, his gaze flickering to a lamp’s uncertain flame, before he bent low, touching his forehead to the cool marble, voice trembling:

“Is Your Ladyship upset again?”

“This servant has learnt some new… ways to make you happy. Would you like to try?”

His words—always gentle, always offered like sweet paan after a heavy meal—usually soothed me. This time, they only deepened the ache. He always coaxed me like this, and I used to accept it gladly.

Now, pretending to adjust my earring to hide my tears, I turned my face away in embarrassment.

Arjun spoke again:

“Your Ladyship once promised that even if you tired of this servant, you’d give me a chance to win your favour again.”

“Even prisoners are allowed to defend themselves. How could Your Ladyship be so heartless to this servant?”

His voice softened, trembling just so. His eyes shimmered with tears—like the misty spring of March, stirring pity in my heart. I used to fall for that look every time.

I remembered all those nights he wiped away my tears with his thumb, his touch as calming as coconut oil on a feverish forehead. The memory stung anew.

Truthfully, even if he lacked two tolas below, he still had countless ways to bring me pleasure in bed. And he always gave me so much emotional value. He was simply my flower of understanding.

In those moments, his laughter was a balm. He knew my moods before I did, always ready with some silly joke or quiet wisdom, the way only someone who truly cared could offer.

If not for those lines and that booklet, I could never have let him go.

Regret curled in my stomach like overcooked rice. I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing to erase the words from my mind.

Arjun buried his face in my palm, nuzzling lightly and then more insistently—like a pet seeking affection.

The warmth of his breath on my skin made my resolve waver. It was a child’s gesture, desperate and pleading. For a moment, I was tempted to forgive and forget.

My heart softened, and I brushed my fingers over the damp corner of his eye.

“I’ll give you one last chance. Take off your clothes. I want to see your…”

True or false. One glance would settle it.

The sharp demand hung in the air, more daring than any palace intrigue. My cheeks flushed, but I refused to drop my gaze. Let the gods themselves judge me, I thought, as my heart thudded.

Sometimes, it felt as if unseen voices whispered in my ear, spinning stories about us I could not escape. The barrage exploded:

[What right does the supporting girl have to look at the male lead? Only the heroine can look at him! The supporting girl insults him like this today—she’ll definitely be harshly punished in the future.]

[LOL, the supporting girl still doesn’t know the male lead will be king, right?]

[If the supporting girl hadn’t shamelessly seduced him back then, the male lead would’ve long gone to serve the Maharani and played palace games. But since she came to him, why not use her for practice, so he can serve the Maharani better later?]

[Don’t think the supporting girl is on top now. In the future, when the heroine gets jealous, the male lead will wipe out her whole family just to chase his wife, and lock her in the cold palace to be abused by guards until death. The supporting girl is doomed~]

[The vicious supporting girl who can’t see the truth should be executed along with her whole clan. The male lead’s morality is perfect this round.]

My heart lurched so violently I dropped and shattered the glass lamp. Wine splashed onto my eyelid, burning with pain. I stopped Arjun from undoing his collar.

Looking at his innocent yet tender eyes, I weakly waved my hand. “It’s late. You should go back for now.”

As the sharp scent of spilled wine stung my nose and my skin, I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. In that moment, the palace felt colder, the silence heavier. Arjun lingered, eyes wide with confusion, but I looked away, unable to meet his gaze any longer.