Chapter 4: Vengeance in the Courtyard

Meera’s death was indeed a heavy blow to Raghav. He is in great pain now, but before long, he will forget his guilt and continue his illustrious life. These men, they always move on. Tomorrow, he’ll laugh again at the polo grounds, his new wife at his side, as if Meera was only a passing shadow. But my Meera will be buried underground, lonely and desolate.

I will not allow it. Raghav was pinned down in the courtyard. My people found their old wedding clothes in the Raghav residence.

“These are Miss Meera’s wedding clothes.”

I carelessly stroked the armour. The fabric was soft beneath my fingers, still carrying the faint fragrance of rose petals. “Burn them.”

“These are the furnishings Miss Meera bought.”

“Smash them.”

“This is...”

I wanted the Raghav family to watch as I erased every trace of Meera’s existence, one by one. The servants looked away, unable to meet my gaze. The sound of breaking glass and splintering wood echoed across the courtyard, carrying her memory away piece by piece.

Arjun still did not understand what I was doing. Only Raghav’s eyes were bloodshot, and he kept growling, “Stop it! Stop it! Meera will come back, she will come back. She’s just angry with me, like always...” He clawed at the earth, desperation in every word. My heart twisted for a moment, but I forced myself to remain cold. I clicked my tongue.

Who was he putting on an act for? My subordinates were efficient, and soon the Raghav residence was emptied. Other than the house itself, nothing remained.

The neighbours watched from behind their compound walls, gossiping in hushed tones about the Maharani’s wrath—how nothing of the old days would survive her anger. This family drank Meera’s blood, yet forced her to a dead end.

I closed my eyes, but the corners of my mouth curled into a smile. “Since you all love each other so much, I will grant Sneha to you as your wife. From now on, Arjun will be her child.”

Upon hearing this, Sneha was overjoyed. She pressed her palms together, lowering her head in gratitude. She was about to touch my feet to thank me, but Raghav objected.

“In this life, I will have only Meera as my wife.” His voice cracked, echoing with finality. Arjun, however, happily knelt beside Sneha, impatiently calling her mother.

“Mother, I finally waited for you to be my mother. I don’t like that tigress.” He grinned, his childish spite on full display. Then he turned to Raghav, “Papa, didn’t you say Chachi ji is the best woman in the world?”

Raghav’s face was ashen, refusing to reply. I chuckled softly and left the marriage document. The gold leaf shimmered in the sunlight, a final gift or a curse, depending on how you looked at it. Weren’t they so deeply in love? Then let them have what they wanted, so as not to sully Meera’s name.

As I left, I threw out a piece of paper, on which two words were especially clear—

Divorce.

“Raghav, you are not worthy to be buried with her.”

A cold wind swept through the courtyard, scattering the ashes of what once was. I walked away, the weight of vengeance heavy, but my head held high. The world would remember Meera through me—her real friend, her only one.