More Than Wealth

Trust That Weighs More Than Gold

The night had fallen gently over Rathore Mansion. The lights were dim, the mood calm — not with the weight of wealth, but with something far more delicate…

Trust.

Veeresh leaned against the doorframe of their room, watching Poornima wipe her face with a soft towel, fresh from her shower, clad in a simple maroon cotton kurta.

> “Your father transferred all his property to me,” he said casually, like mentioning weather — but his eyes were sharp, watching her reaction.

Poornima paused. For a moment, her expression was unreadable.

Then she smiled.

A soft, knowing smile.

> “Why are you smiling?” Veeresh asked, a frown creasing his brow.

Poornima walked to him slowly and sat at the edge of the bed, drying her hair.

> “Because I don’t care for property or empire,” she said gently.

“I’m happy with what I have.”

“A clinic. A cup of tea. And someone who... pulls me close in sleep.”

Veeresh stepped closer.

> “But this empire—”

> “Is not mine,” she cut him off softly. “And Appa gave it to you because he trusts you, not because he’s done with me.”

She looked up at him with those calm, unwavering eyes.

And in that moment — Veeresh felt it.

That calm, that loyalty, that silent strength that didn’t need wealth to prove its worth.

Without a word, he reached forward and pulled her up into his arms.

Their lips met — not urgently, but fiercely.

A kiss so deep, she had to clutch his shirt to steady herself.

He kissed her until she was breathless, until time stilled around them.

And when he finally pulled away, his lips still near hers, he whispered:

> “You… are the only treasure I care for.”

She held his shirt tighter, forehead resting against his chest.

---

Simple Comforts of Togetherness

Dinner was quiet but warm.

He had dal and chapati.

She had curd rice with a spoon of lemon pickle.

Their feet touched under the table without either saying a word.

No palaces.

No gold.

No guards.

Just them.

After dinner, they returned to their room.

He lay down first, switching off the light.

She slipped under the blanket beside him.

He turned and — like every night — pulled her close, her back against his chest, arm firm around her waist.

> “Sleep,” he whispered against her ear.

She smiled in the dark.

> “With you beside me… always.”

And the night embraced them — not with power, but with peace