His Solace
Ep 1 - The beginning
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Hey My patoties...well hello I'm Peri peri, your authy.... And I present you my story. I'm not too good at this but I hope you don't mind some mistakes
So let's begin the story...enjoy~~
The walls of the underground chamber bled shadows, thick and suffocating. Torches lined the stone, their flames flickering against iron shackles and the trembling body chained to the center of the room. The spy coughed, blood dripping from his split lip, but the sound died quickly when heavy boots echoed across the floor.
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh entered with the grace of a king and the menace of a predator. It was his eyes—sharp, merciless—that commanded the air. Two of his men followed silently, their presence only adding to the weight of power that hung in the chamber.
The prisoner dared a glance upward, and Yuvraj’s slow smile froze him in place. He didn’t need to raise his voice. He didn’t need to lift a weapon. Power rolled off him like smoke from a fire, thick and inescapable.
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh-ML
“You know what I hate most?” Yuvraj’s voice was calm, velvet smooth, but laced with venom. He crouched before the spy, his gaze unblinking. “Not betrayal. Betrayal I expect. What I hate… is stupidity.”
Spy
The man shivered, his lips moving in broken pleas, "I-i...p-pleas-"
but Yuvraj silenced him with a slight tilt of his head.
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh-ML
“You thought crossing me was a choice,” he whispered, leaning closer until the spy could feel the cold edge of his presence. “But choices…” His hand rose, trailing lightly against the prisoner’s jaw before gripping it with sudden force, “…they belong only to kings.”
A single nod from Yuvraj, and one of his men struck—the crack of bone echoed in the chamber. Yuvraj didn’t flinch. He simply straightened, his silhouette framed by the torchlight, dark and commanding.
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh-ML
“Make sure he dies remembering my name,” he ordered softly, almost like a lover giving instructions. “Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh. King of Rajasthan. King of his grave.”
The chamber filled with the spy’s screams, but Yuvraj was already walking away, his cloak trailing behind him like a shadow that would never end.
The screams still echoed down the stone corridor long after Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh had left the chamber. He didn’t turn back. He never did. Mercy was for men who needed to prove their humanity. Kings didn’t.
The heavy door slammed shut behind him, muffling the chaos, and the corridor stretched before him like a path carved in shadow. His two men followed in silence, their heads bowed. None dared speak—not when Yuvraj’s silence weighed heavier than words.
Outside, the night was cool, the desert wind carrying the faint scent of sand and smoke. Parked at the edge of the fortress was a sleek black Rolls Royce, its body gleaming beneath the pale moonlight like a predator crouching in the dark. The driver rushed forward to open the door, his movements sharp with fear rather than respect.
Yuvraj slid into the leather seat with the ease of a ruler settling into a throne. The faint smell of cigar smoke and oud clung to the car’s interior, mingling with his own cologne—a rich, intoxicating trail that was as much a signature as his name.
The car purred to life, gliding through the narrow stone streets of the old city before spilling onto the open road. From the tinted windows, the desert sprawled endlessly, shadows stretching long beneath the stars. Yuvraj leaned back, one hand resting against his jaw, his expression unreadable
In the distance, the silhouette of his palace rose against the horizon—an opulent fortress of sandstone and marble, domes crowned in gold, guarded not just by history but by fear. It wasn’t just a palace. It was his empire.
As the car slowed before the massive gates, guards snapped to attention, their salutes crisp, their eyes downcast. The gates creaked open, revealing sprawling courtyards lit with golden lamps, fountains whispering in the night, and walls that seemed to hum with the secrets of kings and criminals alike.
The Rolls Royce came to a halt at the grand entrance. A servant rushed forward, bowing low as he opened the door. Yuvraj stepped out, the faint rustle of his sherwani breaking the stillness. His eyes swept over the palace he ruled—half crown, half empire of blood.
Without a word, he ascended the marble steps, each stride steady, inevitable, as though the very palace bent to his will. Behind him, the night closed in, carrying the last trace of screams from a dungeon that no longer existed in his world.
The grand hall swallowed him in silence as he crossed its polished marble floor, footsteps echoing beneath chandeliers that dripped gold and crystal. Servants bowed as he passed, but he gave no glance. Power like his didn’t need acknowledgement—it demanded it by existing.
He dismissed his men with a flick of his hand at the corridor leading to his private wing. The double doors to his chambers opened at his approach, carved teak polished until it gleamed. Inside, the world shifted. No longer dungeon-dark or court-grand, his room breathed understated luxury—velvet drapes, deep mahogany shelves lined with books, and a single lamp burning golden against the night
Yuvraj shrugged off his shirt letting it fall across the arm of a chair, and lowered himself into his recliner. The leather sighed under his weight as he leaned back, shoulders finally unclenching. For a moment, the king looked less like a ruler and more like a man.
He reached for the crystal decanter at his side table, poured amber whiskey into a glass, and swirled it once before taking a slow sip. The fire traced down his throat, warming the edges of the cold still clinging to him from the dungeon. His gaze grew distant, sharp eyes clouding—not with weakness, but with memory.
From the pocket of his sherwani, he drew out something that didn’t belong to this world of shadows and power: a pair of silver anklets, delicate and glinting in the lamplight. He turned them in his hand, fingers brushing over the cool metal as though it might burn him.
A ghost of a smile touched his lips, faint, almost reluctant. But his eyes—dark, unreadable—betrayed something else. Longing. Possession. Obsession.
The mysterious girl. The one he’d seen just once, slipping through a crowded temple courtyard like a vision carved from moonlight. The anklet had fallen then, unnoticed by her… claimed by him.
He raised the glass of whiskey to his lips again, exhaling a quiet sigh that fogged the rim. His empire was built on blood and fear. Yet tonight, with silver chains resting against his palm, Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh was haunted not by enemies or betrayal—but by a girl whose face he couldn’t forget.
And in his world, anything he couldn’t forget… he would claim.
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So let me know how you like the story.. And if I should change it I was planning to give a character update too so let me know about that
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so that's it for today...Byee Patoties see you in next chapter
Ep 2 - The chaotic memories
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Hey patoties welcome back
Previously -
**The mysterious girl. The one he’d seen just once, slipping through a crowded temple courtyard like a vision carved from moonlight. The anklet had fallen then, unnoticed by her… claimed by him.
He raised the glass of whiskey to his lips again, exhaling a quiet sigh that fogged the rim. His empire was built on blood and fear. Yet tonight, with silver chains resting against his palm, Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh was haunted not by enemies or betrayal—but by a girl whose face he couldn’t forget.
And in his world, anything he couldn’t forget… he would claim.**
Now continued...
The bells of the Shiv temple thundered, the chant of “Om Namah Shivaya” rolling like waves over stone walls. Incense curled in the air, heavy with sandalwood and ghee. Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh stood tall before the great Shiva Lingam, dressed in a white kurta, rudraksha beads circling his wrist. His palms moved with practiced reverence as he poured water over the black stone.
For all his ruthlessness, for all the fear he commanded, here he was nothing but a devotee. Before Shiv, even kings bowed.
But then—amidst the rhythm of bells and prayers—another sound cut through. Not divine, not sacred. A voice. Fierce. Feminine. Flaming.
Yuvraj’s head turned ever so slightly, eyes narrowing toward the temple doors. Through the swirl of smoke and chants, he saw her silhouette.
A girl.
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
Her beige anarkali swayed with every sharp movement, red petals embroidered across the fabric as though fire bloomed around her. Her dupatta slipped carelessly, bangles clashing against her wrists, anklets chiming with every stomp of her foot. And her voice—sweet, sharp, utterly intoxicating—rolled like thunder in the courtyard.
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
“Haath kaise lagaya!?? Himmat kaise hui tumhari?”
she barked, shoving the man back with a force that made the crowd gasp.
("How did you touch me!?? How dare you?")
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
Gasps spread through the crowd. The man stumbled, muttering excuses. But she wasn’t done. Her chin tilted higher, words laced with fury:
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
“Samjhta kya ho apne aap ko? Tumhare jaison ko sabak sikhana hi padta hai! vaise bhi latton ke bhoot baaton se thodi mante hai...”
(“What do you think of yourself? People like you have to be taught a lesson! After all, some demons only understand when they’re beaten, not spoken to…”)
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
"Agar aurat Devi Parvati hai toh vho devi kali bhi hai... dikhao mera raudra roop!?.." *she holds the man's collar.*
(“If a woman can be Devi Parvati, she can also be Devi Kali… Do you want me to show you my wrathful form?”)
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh-ML
Yuvraj’s hand stilled over the silver pot of water. He was no longer in the ritual. His family’s chants blurred into noise behind him. His world had narrowed—focused only on her.
*in mind* Who is she?
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh-ML
He couldn’t see her face, only her back, but her energy… it crackled, alive, untamed. She was chaos, fire born from the earth, daring anyone to silence her.
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh-ML
*in mind* And still… her voice.
Sweet as honey, sharp as poison. Siren. Addicting. Mine.
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
She shoved the man one final time, her bangles jangling, her dupatta whipping around her like a banner of war. Then she turned, storming away. The crowd parted instinctively, murmuring at her audacity, but she didn’t care. The bells of her anklets chimed against the stone steps—delicate, defiant, unforgettable.
Something slipped then—a silver anklet, falling unnoticed in her fury.
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh-ML
Yuvraj’s eyes caught the glint. He got up and walked forward, his fingers curling around it. Cool, fragile, yet pulsing with her presence.
He stared at the anklet in his palm, lips tightening
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh-ML
*in mind* Fierce. Fiery. Untamed. No one dares raise their voice in my world… but you? You roared in front of Mahadev himself.
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh-ML
He closed his fist slowly, knuckles whitening.
*In mind* You don’t know me yet, little storm. But I know this—anything that burns this bright… belongs to me.
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh-ML
And when he finally looked up, she was gone. Vanished into the crowd. Leaving only the echo of her voice, the memory of her fire, and the anklet that now lay trapped in the hands of Rajasthan’s most dangerous king.
The memory slipped away as slowly as the whiskey burning down his throat. The temple bells, her voice, her storm—they faded, but never fully. They lived in him, seared into his blood like an unshakable curse.
The crystal glass clinked softly against the table as he set it down, his gaze fixed on the delicate silver anklet still resting in his palm. His thumb traced the tiny curves of its design, as though searching for her touch in the cold metal.
For a man who owned empires, who had crushed kingdoms of men beneath his will, this—this fragile chain—felt like his most dangerous possession. Not because it was delicate, but because it belonged to her.
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh-ML
His jaw tightened. A quiet sigh escaped him, though it carried no weariness—only hunger.
"You burned into my memory without even showing me your face, little storm…"
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh-ML
He leaned back into the recliner, the shadows of his vast chamber swallowing him whole, the anklet glinting like moonlight in his dark palm.
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh did not believe in accidents. He believed in destiny. And destiny had set her fire in his path.
Yuvraj Singh Rajvansh-ML
His lips curved into the faintest smile, elegant yet dangerous.
“Ab tum meri ho,” he murmured to the empty room, voice low, velvety, final. “Chahe tum jaanti ho… ya nahi.”
("You are now mine"
"even if you want it or not")
Outside, the palace slept under the desert moon. But inside, a king had chosen his next conquest.
And the storm had already begun.
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Thankyou for reading, patoties
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See you in next chapter~
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Plss like and comment so I know how you like the story
Ep. 3 : The chaotic drama queen
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Hello and welcome back, Cutie patoties~
The Oberoi haveli was drenched in colours that morning—pink, yellow, green, and red powder clouded the air, laughter spilling from every corner. Dhol beats echoed in the courtyard as servants, cousins, and elders danced to the rhythm of Holi.
But amidst the madness, one scene stole everyone’s eyes.
A girl.
Her lehenga shimmered like a thousand blossoms— vibrant colours with golden borders, her dupatta flying behind her like a banner of victory. Her hair was open, cascading down her back in wild waves, catching streaks of gulaal as she darted through the crowd with the speed of lightning.
In her hands—clutched tight—a silver plate full of colours.
And behind her… her third elder brother, Ranvijay Oberoi roaring with laughter as he chased her across the haveli courtyard, his fist ready with a handful of pink powder.
Ranvijay Oberoi- FL's third brother
“Samru! Ruk jaa! Aaj toh tujhe rang ke bina nahi chhodunga!” he shouted, his voice booming like a lion.
(Samru! Stop! I will not leave you without color today!)
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
Samruddhi turned, flashing that wicked, heart-melting smile—the one that always meant trouble.
“Run faster if you dare!, My dearest brother..Samruddhi Oberoi doesn’t get caught—she makes the world chase her.”
Gasps and chuckles rippled through the crowd as she spun around the fountain, her payals chiming like playful bells. Servants scrambled out of the way, children clapped, and the dhol beat seemed to follow her every step.
In that moment, she wasn’t just the youngest Oberoi. She was the pride of three generations.
The only daughter born into a dynasty of sons. The apple of her father’s eye, her grandfather’s laadli, her uncle’s little queen, and the firefly her brothers could never catch.
Rajveer Oberoi - FL's Father
“Meri chhoti aafat!” her father laughed from the balcony, watching her glow. "Bilkul apni maa pe gayi hai.. shaitani fir bhi...masoom"
(“My little troublemaker!”
“Exactly like her mother… mischievous, yet so innocent.”)
And indeed, Samruddhi Oberoi wasn’t just playing Holi.
She was painting the haveli with her energy—mischievous, sassy, untamed. A storm in silk. A fire wrapped in colour. A girl the world could never look away from.
And as the crowd burst into cheers, Samruddhi ducked again, her bangles clinking, her plate of colours still miraculously safe in her hands. She raised her chin with a smug grin—victorious yet again.
Because this was her kingdom. Her family. Her world.
And she ruled it—not with fear, not with power, but with laughter, mischief, and a spark no one could contain.
The courtyard of the Oberoi haveli exploded with colour, laughter, and chaos. In the middle of it all, a blur of red lehenga and flying hair darted across the garden.
Ranvijay Oberoi- FL's third brother
“Samruuu! Ruk jaa, tujhe rang lagake hi chhodunga!” abhijeet thundered as he charged after her with a fistful of gulaal.
(“Samruuu! Stop right there, I won’t leave you until I’ve smeared you with color!”)
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
Samruddhi looked back over her shoulder, eyes glittering with mischief, and stuck her tongue out.
“Me? Letting you colour me? Please. Even Holi bows toe!”
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
She swerved sharply, her lehenga brushing against marigold strings hanging in the courtyard, and ran straight into her grandfather’s side.
Vijay Oberoi - FL's grandfather
“Arre arre! Yeh kaisi sena hai jo apni hi Rajkumari ke peeche padi hai?” her Dadu scolded in mock anger, wrapping his arm protectively around her as she panted, hiding behind him.
(“Arre arre! What kind of army is this, chasing after its own princess?”)
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
Samruddhi smirked, her cheeks flushed, strands of hair sticking to her glowing face. “Dadu, dekha? Mujhe sab chedte hain. Aap hi mere asli protector ho.”
(“Grandpa, did you see? Everyone keeps teasing me. You’re the only one who’s my real protector.”)
Rajveer Oberoi - FL's Father
Her brother groaned. “Dadu, aap iske saath ho ya humare?”
("Grandpa, are you on her side or mine?")
Vijay Oberoi - FL's grandfather
“Main toh uske saath hoon,” Dadu declared proudly, patting her head. “Meri poti hai, meri sherni hai.”
("I'm always on her side"
My granddaughter, My tigress)
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
“Dekha?!” Samruddhi grinned wickedly, peeking at her brothers. “Aap sab mujhe chhune se pehle do baar soch lena. Dadu ki sherni hoon main.”
("See!?"
"You all think twice before touching me. I'm my grandpa's Tigress)
Aryansh Oberoi - FL's second brother
Aryasnh Oberoi, the silent second brother, rolled his eyes. “Sherni nhi nautanki hai, Samru. Subah se naatak kar rahi hai.”
(“She’s not a lioness, she’s a total drama queen. Samru’s been putting on a show since morning.”)
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
Samruddhi gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “Wah! Dekho maa, bhai mujhe nautanki bol raha hai. Kya yeh izzat hai Oberoi khandaan ki eklauti beti ki?!”
(“Wow! Look, Maa—Bhai is calling me a drama queen. Is this the respect given to the only daughter of the Oberoi family?!”)
Kamini Oberoi- FL's mother
Her mother, elegant in a pastel silk saree, chuckled softly and pulled her daughter into her arms. "Nautanki toh hai but rajkumari bhi. Dono saath-saath.”
(“She is a drama queen, but she’s also a princess. Both together.”)
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
Samruddhi’s face lit up like a diya, and she clung to her mother like a spoiled child. “Bas, mujhe sirf aap hi samajhti ho, Maa. Baaki sab jealous hain mujhse.”
Reyansh Oberoi-Fl's brother 1
“Jealous?” Reyansh Oberoi, the oldest brother, laughed with a wicked grin. “Haan, jealous hain… kyunki Oberoi haveli mein humein bas daant milti hai aur tujhe sabki pyaar ki rajgaddi.”
(“Yes, we’re jealous… because in the Oberoi mansion, all we get are scoldings, while you sit on the throne of everyone’s love.”)
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
“Arre, toh badlo na apna chehra meri jaisa cute aur aadatein meri jaisi sweet… phir tumhe bhi milegi pyaar ki rajgaddi!”
(“Well then, change your face to be as cute as mine and your habits to be as sweet as mine… then you’ll also get the throne of everyone’s love!”)
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
Samruddhi twirled in her lehenga, her laughter ringing like temple bells. “Aur woh bhi meri wajah se! Maan lo, aap sab mere praja ho.”
(“And that too because of me! Admit it, all of you are my subjects.”)
Baliraj Oberoi - FL's uncle
“PRAJA?!” her Chachu, Giriraj Oberoi roared in laughter, slapping his knee. “Sun liya sabne? Oberoi ghar ki Rajkumari ne humein apna praja bana diya!”
(“SUBJECTS?!”
“Did everyone hear that? The princess of the Oberoi family has made us her subjects!”)
Rajveer Oberoi - FL's Father
Her uncles and aunts joined in, their laughter echoing through the haveli, while her father, Rajveer Oberoi, stepped into the chaos with his dignified presence. He crossed his arms, feigning seriousness, though the softness in his gaze betrayed him.
“Samruddhi,” he said firmly.
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
She froze for half a second, then ran straight to him, wrapping both her hands around his arm and blinking up at him with exaggerated innocence. “Papa… I swear I did nothing! They were the ones plotting to attack me with colors. Main toh bilkul seedhi-saadhi Rajkumari hoon… bas thodi si shaitaan.”
(“Papa… I didn’t do anything! They were the ones planning to throw colors on me. I’m completely innocent… just a little bit mischievous.”)
Rajveer Oberoi - FL's Father
Rajveer chuckled, pinching her nose. “Seedhi-saadhi? Tere jaise shaitaan Oberoi ghar mein kabhi paida hi nahi hua.”
(“Innocent? Never in the history of the Oberoi family has there ever been a little devil like you.”)
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
“Shaitaan?” she gasped, stepping back dramatically. “Papa, aapko meri maa ne suna toh—”
(“Devil?”
“Papa, if Mama hears you say that—”)
Kamini Oberoi- FL's mother
Her mother cut her off with a laugh. “Sun rahi hoon. Aur main bhi maanta hoon—meri beti shaitaan bhi hai, aur sabse pyaari bhi.”
(“I’m listening. And I agree—my daughter is both a little devil and the dearest of all.”)
Samruddhi Oberoi - FL
Samruddhi’s smile softened at that, her eyes glistening with affection as she hugged her parents together, cheekily smudging gulaal on both their cheeks in the process.
"Samruddhi Oberoi ko sabse pehle gulaal lagane haq sirf uske parents ko hai..."
(“No one touches Samruddhi Oberoi first. The honor of applying the first gulaal belongs only to her parents.”)
And just like that, the Oberoi haveli roared with laughter again.
Samruddhi Oberoi. The chaos. The charm. The crown jewel of her family.
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So let me know how you like the story..
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And like, subscribe, comment so I can have your ideas as well for the story
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See you in next chapter
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