The Prince's Indentured Bride

Power of the seat

Taira Raikar didn't know how to braid her daughter's hair.

She is the worst cook, that's why her husband never comes home.

Seems like people know more about my daily routine than myself.

"Baybo, what are you doing?" My consort asked me while coming out from the bathroom, wrapped in a presentable towel.

"Searching for the most attractive gift for my husband. What should I give?" I scrolled through the photos of limited-edition cars sent from Tesla Lab, maybe one of them would make the newspaper headlines.

My consort stole a kiss from my lips as I grabbed him by the robe to devour another round of moans, "Maybe I should give him a mistress. Or Shubham's head."

His touch pattern and postures have become so familiar that my brain has now memorised the routine; quite boring: lips on lips, hips on hips, left hand into my hair and him into me.

The only thrill left out of these endeavours is keeping my skin young and healthy, and my brain thinking in all its ability.

"You mean the IT minister of our state?" He asked, taking a break from planting kisses on my neck and staring at me with innocent eyes; as if my previous statement was a joke.

"Yes. He has been troubling the broadcast station." I explained, "Don't joke around Baybo, there may be wiretap anywhere."

"I am not scared. If it will make things easier for my husband then why only a head, I can give any body part." I said between a series of heavy breaths from him.

"Don't say things you don't mean." I pushed my consort away hearing my daughter's venom laced voice.

"Aishwarya. I understand you are in your teens so I will let this slide." Talk with a smile on your face, that’s what the guide to teenager’s heart book had said.

"Oh my god! What an expensive favour. My father doesn't need you. Why don't you divorce him?" I still maintained my teeth perfect smile; my beauty is no joke!

"What happened to your hair? Why is it so short?" I asked: this wasn't my instructions to the salon, so how and why?

"I wanted short hair. Please stop living in the bubble that you are being an amazing wife and a good mother." She replied and flipped her hair with her right hand. Is she trying to show off that she went against me? If this is her way of rebellion than it must be chained before it becomes a problem for her future.

I retorted in defense, "I am the perfect wife. And an excellent mother."

"You look pathetic." She spat the words with so much hatred that it could burn me alive: why does my own blood hate me so much?

My phone rang: Vanish Raj, the CFO of Epollo Hospitals, what could I possibly gain from him, power?

"Aishwarya, you are my daughter. And the reason for me to work this hard to get . . "

She didn’t wait for me to complete, "Break this family."

"I've paid for your ballet classes and boxing coaching also. Don't disappoint me. End of discussion, love."

"As if it was a discussion." She whined: my Aishwarya looks cute when arguing with me. That is the most attention I get from her; what should I do to get her to love me?

Bring a prince? Who can match the power she holds; the only grandchild of two of the most powerful people on the earth?

"And I hope you understand I care for your father."

"That's why all your caring is displayed only in front of the public and cameras."

Yes, it was, because keeping him in check was very important; the more tokens I collect the more power I hold. And there will be nobody to whom I need to bow down; Irreplaceable Empress.

~

"Why didn't you come to the puja?" I asked my nephew, the king of Nicoman state; three developing cities, twenty-two villages and two private islands.

"I w.s p.e.e.ng." The voice from the moving Rolls Royce Dawn beside my car barely let me hear anything of what Gabriel was replying from the driver's seat.

Did he say peeing? "Again." I shouted in my radio transmitter and lifted it up to show him through the open window; moving in parallel cars was fun, with the roads empty in respect of the King’s visit.

Tiara Raikar, the queen mother of Nicoman State encourages youth in car modelling with an evening race against the King. These clickbait’s will give me a calorie run to the dungeons of the ground.

"I was planning." He replied in the transmitter this time, quick learner, he is.

"What could be so important than maintaining a positive image in public interest support?" I threw my saved question immediately: quite disappointing were his choices today.

"You are the visual, Rani Ma." That sounded inky to my ears.

"You gave them another reason to label you a racist." I voiced my most challenging wildfire.

"I was brought up in a Christian home. It can't be helped." He was equitably unerring though.

My sunglasses allowed me to see a little of his leg fiercely stomp on the brake pad: "Is something wrong Gabriel?"

"No." I smiled. My so-attention seeker sister did one good thing in her lifetime; gave an heir to the throne, but why did she have to marry a Christian man?

Now I am the one, suffering again, cleaning racial decoration on the beloved king of the nation.

"I had better work to deal with, which can count as efforts than my presence in a divisional begging."

"We call that faith." A belief can either let the man get the diamond or die in poverty. "Where is your driver?"

The road forward took a small O diversion with the circle in the middle standing a statue of my grandfather: Keshan Raj Raikar, the man who rebuilt Nicoman State from nothing to number one throne in the genesis.

"His wife is having her delivery. . . Reedee send some flowers to Vexoa Hospitals." I envied of how he is so used to the virtual assistant, what does Reedee even mean?

My 2G phone rang; I can easily recognise its ringtone even from inside the pouch. My driver passed the phone to me before making a light turn.

"Speak." I commanded, once I accepted the call.

"We have made our move. HERIDITY will be yours Madam." He reported; my heart slept peacefully knowing everything was going as I have been wanting to.

"Good. Get me a loophole in Vanish Raj's finance statements."

"If clean, then?"

"Then create. And I want a report of any bad blood between the defence and finance ministers." Why can’t he use his brain at the required times? Well, it’s better that only I do the brain work.

After sharing no more good bye on my call I slid up the on button on the transmitter again; I need to pursue my nephew to get married, I can't lose against the nobles and councillors.

"Are you in touch with Vhrea?"

He took a moment to answer. "Nope. Why?"

"The loss hit hard, I guess. You guys were close once upon a time." Vhrea has always been a sweet girl, who radiates too much power and confidence that even I may start liking her, or, I already do.

"It's been years I have left Nainital. I am not required in her life." I smiled again; that sounded bitter, at least even he was suffering. Is there someone like me who wishes that their close one's also suffered like them.

I don't think there is anyone; they call me heartless beauty for a reason.

"Gabriel you will turn 31, you do realize that if you don't get married before this birthday the legal court will eat you alive."

"Yes. I recently decided a name in my head." Good, he knew the gravity of being a bachelor king for so long.

"The counselling needs a face, my Nephew." I need that before them, "Don't add an extra line on your forehead Rani Ma. I have a gift for you on your left."

I checked for the gift; well, there was one, a cardboard box-ripping the ribbon open I found a pair of yellow wedges with the label TR on the right edges of both the shoes. He knew how to be charming, but he even knows I never put on any shoes with less than seven-inch heel.

"For once give your feet some rest from the seven inches point heels." I could hear his laugh through the transmitter as I looked through the invitation reading: SPA & Yoga, only for Rani Ma.

"That is so thoughtful of you." I replied with acetous lingering.

My heels give me competence: dominance on everyone who would want to control me. And by doing this little gifting ceremony he is only warning me: You do not hold a power on me.

Spa, my foot; he wants to hold me back. Is he planning something behind my back?

No, never, I won't allow anyone to crumble my throne which I had worked so hard for.

I am the power, here, and everywhere I pass by.