FORBIDDEN FLAMES

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The wedding had been a spectacle. Colors, noise, rituals—everything about it screamed tradition. Except for the man I was now married to.

Edward Ashford stood out in every way possible, his tall frame stiff in the elaborate attire my family had chosen for him. His expression had been unreadable through the ceremony, though I couldn’t decide if it was indifference or irritation. Perhaps it was both.

***

The night felt too quiet. It was the kind of silence that wraps around your chest and makes it hard to breathe. The guests were gone, the laughter and loud music fading into the shadows. And now, here I am. Alone. Well, almost.

The room smelled of marigolds, the petals scattered across the bed a mocking reminder of what was supposed to be a “special” night. Special? There was nothing special about this. This wasn’t a love story. It wasn’t some fairy tale. It was a deal—an arrangement.

My heart was pounding as I sat stiffly on the bed, my fingers clutching at the heavy fabric of my bridal sari. The jewelry on my wrists jingled with every slight movement, their golden shine feeling like chains.

This marriage wasn’t for me. It wasn’t for him, either. It was for them—my family, their cause, their endless ambition to take on the British Raj. I was just another pawn on their chessboard, and Edward Ashford? He was the opponent we needed to outwit.

The thought made my stomach churn.

The door creaked open, and my head snapped up.

There he was. Edward Ashford—my husband. The man I’d just pledged my life to in front of a crowd of people who had no idea this entire marriage was built on lies.

He stepped in, his sharp green eyes briefly scanning the room before landing on me. He didn’t say anything, just loosened the collar of his jacket like the night had been nothing more than an inconvenience to him.

And maybe it was.

He didn’t look like a man who had just gotten married. He looked like someone attending a business meeting that had dragged on too long. His jaw was tight, his movements deliberate, controlled. For a moment, I wondered if he even remembered my name.

He finally spoke, his voice breaking the tension in the air. “Long day.”

I didn’t reply. What could I even say to that?

He walked further into the room, the click of his boots echoing against the tiled floor. Every step made me more aware of how small the room felt now that he was in it.

“I suppose we should talk,” he said eventually, his tone as sharp as the cut of his suit. He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “This... arrangement... isn’t ideal for either of us.”

Arrangement. That word again. I hated it. But I didn’t correct him.

“It’s what was decided,” I said softly, barely recognizing my own voice.

He nodded, like he expected that response. “Exactly. Decisions were made. And now here we are.”

Here we are. Married. Bound together by promises neither of us wanted to make.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s make one thing clear,” he said, his voice cold. “I don’t care what your reasons are for agreeing to this. I don’t care if you have motives or if your family does. As long as you don’t interfere with my work, this will go smoothly.”

My chest tightened at his words. He wasn’t just indifferent—he was dismissive, as though I didn’t matter at all.

“And if I do interfere?” I asked, surprising even myself.

His lips curved into a humorless smile. “Then you’ll regret it.”

His words hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and threatening. But I refused to flinch.

“Good,” he said, his tone clipped. “Now that we understand each other, let’s get this over with.”

I blinked, unsure of what he meant until he motioned to the bed.

“You take it,” he said simply. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

I stared at him, confused. “You don’t have to—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, already moving to the couch by the window. He didn’t look at me as he sat down, his long legs stretching out in front of him. “This isn’t a real marriage. No need to pretend otherwise.”

His words were a slap in the face, even though I knew they were true.

I lay down on the bed, my heart heavy. The petals felt rough against my skin, their once-vivid scent now nauseating. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the sound of his steady breathing from across the room.

I told myself I didn’t care. I told myself this was all part of the plan. But deep down, a small part of me wondered what it would feel like to be in a marriage that wasn’t just a lie.

To be chosen. To be wanted.

But those weren’t things I could afford to think about. Not now. Not ever.

***

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, warm against my face. My eyes fluttered open, the weight of yesterday still pressing heavily on my chest. I stayed still, hesitant to fully wake, afraid of what the day might hold.

My hand moved to push away the blanket over me, but something felt... different. I frowned, sitting up slowly, and looked down. It wasn’t the thin sheet I had crawled under the night before. It was a thicker, coarse blanket—one I didn’t recognize.

Confused, I glanced around the room, my heart beating faster. My eyes stopped at the couch where Edward had slept last night, though he was no longer there. The cushions bore the imprint of his body, but the man himself was gone.

I clutched the edge of the blanket, my thoughts racing. Did... did he put this on me?

I shook my head, forcing myself to focus. Why would he do something like that? It didn’t fit the image I had built of him—the cold, calculating man who had agreed to this marriage without a flicker of emotion. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

And yet... this.

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Hope you enjoyed the chapter , the next chapter will come around 12noon tomorrow. For further updates stay tuned 🤍.