The palace bathing chamber was unlike anything Aaradhya had ever seen — wide as a temple, scented like heaven, and so private it felt sacred.
Four maids stood silently beside the sunken marble pool filled with warm milk and rose petals. Gold trays beside them held vials of oil, crushed saffron, and strands of pure jasmine.
And in the center of it all stood Aaradhya.
Naked.
Her cheeks burned, but she did not cover herself. Not after last night. Not after the shower. Not after the way Aaryan had taken her from behind, again and again, until her legs trembled beneath her and his name was all she remembered.
She was no longer the untouched bride.
She was his.
And now, she was to be prepared.
The chief maid bowed slightly. "Rani-sa, the prince has ordered the full bridal adornment."
Aaradhya nodded.
They began.
Warm milk touched her skin first as she stepped into the pool. The soft splash echoed across the chamber. The petals clung to her body. She sat slowly, the warmth enveloping her like a whispered promise.
The maids moved around her with practiced grace, massaging her scalp with oil infused with herbs, their fingers working gently yet deeply. Another poured milk down her back, letting it cascade over her curves.
They scrubbed her skin with a paste of sandalwood and rose, smoothing every inch of her. Her breasts, her thighs, her inner legs — no part of her was left untouched.
She was silent. But her body remembered Aaryan's touch with every glide of their hands.
When she stood again, her skin glowed — soft, fragrant, bare.
They led her to a velvet stool. One by one, they began to adorn her body.
Gold chains wrapped around her waist. Anklets kissed her feet. Her hands and feet were painted in fresh mehendi — not the elaborate bridal kind, but a darker, bolder design, sensual in every stroke.
Then came the jewelry.
A sheer golden veil was draped around her shoulders, barely covering her breasts.
The last was a necklace — heavy, ancient, encrusted with rubies — resting between the swell of her cleavage.
"You are ready, Rani-sa," the maid whispered.
Aaradhya looked at herself in the polished mirror.
Her hair loose. Skin glowing. Adorned in gold and desire.
She no longer looked innocent.
She looked claimed.
And now, she had to face him again.
Aaryan waited in the inner chamber, dressed in a black silk kurta, sleeves rolled up, his fingers playing with a ring.
When the doors opened, and she stepped in, barefoot and bare beneath sheer gold —
He froze.
His eyes dragged over her slowly, like a predator savoring every inch of his prize.
Then he stood.
"Come here."
She obeyed.
He circled her once, his finger trailing along her spine, over the dip of her back, around her navel.
"You look like temptation and surrender wrapped in gold," he murmured.
Her breath hitched.
He gripped her chin. Tilted her face up.
"Tonight," he said, "I will not just take you again... I will own you in ways you didn’t know you could be owned."
And she believed him.
Because as his lips claimed hers again, the rest of the world vanished.
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