Next morning.

The rhythmic clanging of swords rang out across the training grounds as Devansh expertly demonstrated techniques to his men. His concentration was unshakable until he felt a firm tap on his shoulder. He turned swiftly, and the moment he saw who it was, a bright smile spread across his face.

"Your Majesty! Good morning!" Devansh greeted warmly, offering a respectful bow.

"Good morning, Crown Prince," King Surya replied, a casual yet commanding smile playing on his lips. "Would it be alright if my men and I joined your training session today?"

Devansh's eyes lit up. "It would be an honor, Your Majesty. My men and I would be proud to train alongside you."

"Thank you," Surya said with a nod.

Moments later, the king and his warriors stepped into the fray, seamlessly joining the session. The training grounds pulsed with new energy; the crisp clash of blades, the thud of boots against earth, and the focused grunts of warriors in motion.

But then, a softer sound cut through the chaos. A delicate chiming sound that pulled Surya's attention like a thread of music in a storm.

He turned, instinct sharp as ever.

There she was... walking toward them. Princess Saanvi.

Her anklets sang with every step, the sound soft but unmissable. She wore a simple, frock-style outfit, far removed from her usual regal elegance. Yet she looked radiant. There was something arresting about her presence in that moment. Amid the raw grit of the training field, her simplicity made her shine brighter.

As she approached the gathered men, Advika held the aarti plate with steady hands, the flame flickering with each graceful step. Her eyes, however, kept darting toward him; quick, stolen glances she probably hoped would go unnoticed.

They didn't.

Surya's bare chest glistened under the morning sun, the beads of sweat tracing the contours of his sculpted torso. He wore nothing but a dhoti, his royal image stripped down to its most primal form. Strength, raw and unadorned.

Advika paused, breath catching in her throat. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came. She struggled to refocus, anchoring herself to the purpose she'd come for, but her traitorous gaze lingered, just for a moment longer.

'What would it feel like to trace the path of those droplets with my tongue?' The thought struck like lightning.

Her eyes widened in horror at her own audacity. Heat surged to her cheeks, and she forced her gaze down, lips pressing into a mortified line. 'What is wrong with me?'

Surya caught it all. The blush, the flustered glance, the way she suddenly avoided his gaze like he'd burned her.

And he smiled. Slow, teasing, victorious. 'It seems princess liked what she saw, did she?'

For the first time in a long while, King Surya Aditya felt a different kind of pride; not for his intellect, not for his victories. But for the body that had earned its scars through war and discipline. He'd never cared for vanity. But her reaction? That was different. That made him stand just a little taller.

When she reached him and offered the aarti, her fingers trembled slightly.

Their eyes met.

Hers were shy, guilty, overwhelmed.

His were unreadable, except for the glint of mischief that danced quietly behind them.

"Thank you, Princess," he said, his voice deep, smooth, and edged with something undeniably playful.

Advika's blush deepened.

Once Advika finished offering the morning aarti to everyone, she handed the thaali to her maid and walked toward the stand where her wooden practice sword rested.

From a distance, Surya observed her, arms crossed and a faint smile tugging at his lips. He watched as she picked up the sword and approached the training dummies. Without hesitation, she began striking one of them, her brows furrowed in concentration. Each time her strike missed the mark, she muttered under her breath, visibly frustrated.

After a while, Surya couldn't resist. He walked over, his deep voice cutting through the stillness. "Why are you beating up that poor dummy with a wooden stick?"

Advika turned sharply, mildly affronted. "I'm not beating it," she protested, a faint flush coloring her cheeks. "I'm practicing. I'm trying to learn how to wield a sword."

Surya chuckled, warm and amused. "Is that what you call it?" he teased, shaking his head. "Only children under eight train with wooden swords. If you're serious about learning, start with the real thing."

Before she could retort, he walked to the weapons rack and selected a gleaming steel sword, its hilt engraved with delicate carvings. He returned and held it out to her with an easy smile. "Here. Try this."

Advika hesitated. She eyed the weapon like it might bite. Still, after a moment's pause, she reached out and gripped the hilt. As she lifted it, her arms dipped under the unexpected weight and she let out a soft gasp.

Surya watched her struggle, his gaze a mix of patience and amusement. "See? That's exactly why you need the real thing," he said. "You have to feel its weight, learn its balance. Make it an extension of your body. A wooden sword will never teach you that."

Advika frowned, determined not to be dismissed. "It's... heavy," she muttered, adjusting her grip as her arms trembled slightly.

"It won't be, once you've practiced enough." Surya grabbed another sword from the rack and spun it effortlessly in his hand, the blade flashing in the morning light. Then, with a mischievous grin, "Alright, Princess. If you're serious, I'll train you. But no more playing with wooden toys. Real training begins now."

He stepped back into a ready stance, his sword pointed at her. "First lesson: attack me."

Advika blinked. "What? Attack you?"

"That's what I said," Surya replied, half-grinning. "Come on, Princess Saanvi. You won't learn anything by swinging at a lifeless dummy. Come at me. I'll guide you."

She hesitated, clutching the sword tighter. "I might actually hit you," she warned.

Surya's smirk deepened. "I'd like to see you try."

Goaded by his challenge, Advika lunged at him with all the strength she could muster. Surya sidestepped with practiced ease, parrying her strike with a sharp clang of steel.

"Again," he said calmly. "Focus. Control your strength. Anticipate."

Advika adjusted her stance, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the hilt tighter. She hesitated... conscious of how clumsy she must look, how awkward.

"Don't overthink," Surya said, his eyes gleaming. "Act. Trust your instincts."

She inhaled deeply, squared her shoulders, and swung. Her movement was hesitant, but there was resolve behind it.

Again, Surya blocked her with fluid grace. "Good effort," he said, a hint of praise in his tone. "Now, again. And don't hold back."

Her pride stung at his smugness. Determined, she lunged again. This time faster, more forcefully. Their blades clashed, steel ringing through the courtyard.

"Better," Surya nodded. "You're still hesitating, though. Don't be afraid to fight me. I can handle it."

Advika's gaze sharpened. Drawing from memories of her brother's training sessions, she repositioned her stance and launched another strike. This one more precise.

Surya blocked it again, but this time he raised an eyebrow in surprise. A slow smile tugged at his lips. "Now that's more like it. Keep going."

As the training continued, Advika forgot her earlier embarrassment. Her strikes grew more confident, her footwork steadier. Though Surya still blocked every blow, she could see the glint of approval in his eyes.

By the time they paused, she was breathless, her arms aching. Surya, in contrast, remained calm and composed, though his smile betrayed genuine admiration.

"Not bad for your first time," he said, sheathing his sword. "You've got potential, Princess. Keep at it, and one day, you might even land a hit on me."

Advika let the tip of her sword drop to the ground, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. But beneath the fatigue, something else lingered; faint, unspoken.

Almost... sorrow.

Barely above a whisper, she murmured, "Time is what I don't have much of."

Unbeknownst to her, Surya had stepped closer and overheard her.

His easy smile vanished, replaced by furrowed brows and a quiet intensity. "Why?" he asked, voice low and steady. "Why wouldn't you have time?"

Advika's head snapped up, eyes wide. She hadn't meant to say it aloud and certainly not in front of him. Her heart kicked in her chest. "N-No... I just meant you're only here for a few days," she said quickly, a brittle laugh forcing its way out. "That's all."

But Surya wasn't convinced. His gaze remained fixed on her; watchful, unreadable. He caught the slight tremor in her voice, the way her fingers fidgeted on the hilt of her sword, the way her eyes refused to meet his.

She was hiding something.

Still, he hesitated. She was a princess. What reason could she possibly have to lie about something as simple as time? Maybe he was reading too much into it. Maybe she was just tired.

So, he let it go. For now.

"Ignore me, Your Majesty," she added, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I was just rambling."

Surya's frown deepened, but he didn't press. "Very well," he said finally, his smile returning. Though this time, it didn't carry the same ease.

Advika nodded, swallowing hard. She turned away, murmuring something about practicing archery. But as she walked off, the weight of his gaze lingered behind her.

And though he didn't say it aloud, Surya knew.

She was lying.

Advika made her way to the archery stands, where the soldiers were already practicing with bows and arrows. Determined to distract her mind with something productive, she picked up a bow and quietly joined the line, positioning herself among them with practiced ease.

Meanwhile, King Surya Aditya's frustration simmered beneath his calm exterior. The duel with General Ranvijay Singh should've commanded his full attention, but his mind wasn't on his sword.

Not when his eyes kept drifting toward her.

She stood among the soldiers like she belonged there; strong, focused, and distant.

And that distance gnawed at him.

Just last night, she had stood in front of him and said she was his. And he, hers. Then, why did it feel like she was hiding something now?

Steel clashed against steel, but Surya moved almost on instinct, barely noticing when Ranvijay parried with ease.

The general raised a brow. "You know, Surya," he said slyly, dodging another half-hearted strike, "instead of torturing yourself by standing here and staring like a love-struck boy, why don't you just go talk to her?"

Surya shot him a glare, but said nothing.

Ranvijay wasn't done. "The crown prince mentioned there's a private shooting range nearby. Take her there. You'll get privacy and maybe a real conversation."

Surya froze mid-swing, Ranvijay's words landing with precision. Then, slowly, a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "That's why you're my general," he said with a wink, sheathing his sword before striding off toward Devansh.

The crown prince's eyes narrowed slightly when Surya made his request. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face. The thought of his sister alone with the visiting king in a secluded spot stirred every protective instinct within him.

But then he remembered how earnestly Saanvi had pleaded with their father to invite Surya to their kingdom. Her feelings were clear. And Surya, despite his imposing presence, had done nothing to betray that trust.

Devansh held Surya's gaze for a long beat. "Take care of her," he said at last, his voice firm.

Surya nodded, his expression turning solemn. "With my life."

Without another word, he turned and walked toward the archery stands.

Toward her.

.. .. \- -/ .. .. \- -/ .. ..

Nusrat arrived at the training ground, huffing slightly, her dupatta fluttering behind her in the morning breeze. Devansh stood waiting, arms crossed, wooden practice swords already laid out beside him.

"I'm so sorry," she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I fell asleep after my Fajr prayers again."

Devansh raised an eyebrow, but a small smile tugged at his lips. By now, nearly everyone knew about Nusrat's daily prayer routine and how the post-dawn one often left her drowsy. He had heard the excuse enough times to stop being surprised. And yet, he never really minded the wait.

"That's okay, Ms. Nusrat," he replied with a teasing shake of his head. "You're only... what, an hour late today? Progress."

Nusrat bit back a sheepish grin. "I'll try to break that record tomorrow."

He handed her a sword, their fingers brushing briefly... just a fleeting touch, but enough to make her glance up at him. Devansh held her gaze a moment longer than necessary before clearing his throat.

"Well," he said, stepping back, "now that you're here, we shouldn't waste any more time. Let's begin."

As she took her stance, Devansh couldn't help the soft smile that lingered on his face. A smile that faded the moment she turned to face him, though his eyes still held a quiet warmth.

.. .. \- -/ .. .. \- -/ .. ..

.. .. \- -/ .. .. \- -/ .. ..

At the secluded archery range, everything felt quieter, calmer. The buzz of the palace and the clang of training swords were far behind them now. Here, the world moved slower. Birdsong threaded through the rustle of leaves, and golden sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled shadows across the soft earth.

Advika stood with a bow in hand, her breath slightly uneven; not from nerves, but from his presence.

Surya moved closer, his footsteps silent on the grass. "Relax your grip," he said gently, his voice low and smooth.

She adjusted her fingers on the string.

"No... like this," he murmured.

Before she could react, his hand slid over hers, steady and warm. Slowly, he guided her fingers into the correct position, the contact sending a shiver up her spine.

His other hand hovered at her waist before gently settling there; not forceful, just enough to adjust her stance. "Straighten a little. There. Twist just slightly to the left."

Advika's breath caught as he shifted her, his touch both careful and commanding. She dared not look at him, afraid he'd see how fast her heart was racing.

"Good," he said quietly, voice close to her ear now.

She released the arrow. It hit closer to the center. She turned to him, a surprised smile tugging at her lips. "That was better."

"I told you," he said, a small smile forming; soft, proud. "You just needed to trust yourself."

She looked at him then, really looked... at the way the sunlight kissed his cheekbones, at the kindness in his usually guarded eyes.

And suddenly, the moment felt heavier. Fuller.

A breeze lifted a strand of her hair across her face.

Without a word, Surya reached up and gently tucked it behind her ear, his fingers grazing her cheek. He didn't pull away immediately. His hand lingered, the warmth of his touch grounding her in place.

Advika blinked slowly, their eyes locking. Neither of them spoke, and yet it felt like something important passed between them; unspoken, but deeply felt.

"You're different when you're not being a king," she whispered, unsure where the courage to say it came from.

He tilted his head slightly. "And you... you're different when you're not hiding something."

Her smile faded just a touch, a flicker of sadness in her eyes.

But Surya didn't press. Instead, he stepped back, offering her the bow again. "One more shot?" he asked softly.

She nodded, taking the bow but her hands still remembered the shape of his.

And his gaze never left her, even as she turned to aim again.

.. .. \- -/ .. .. \- -/ .. ..

.. .. \- -/ .. .. \- -/ .. ..

Advika sat in the bath, the warm water lapping gently against her skin as she rinsed the last of the oil from her hair. The scent of jasmine and sandalwood lingered in the steamy air, curling around her like a comforting blanket. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the silence soothe her.

Then, the stillness shifted.

A faint shimmer moved through the stone wall, and a soft glow lit the dim chamber. Advika opened her eyes just as Saanvi's translucent figure floated gracefully into view.

The ghost of the princess hovered for a heartbeat before settling cross-legged beside the bath, her luminous form catching the candlelight like moonlight on water.

"Chhutki, where have you been?" Advika asked, both relieved and curious.

Saanvi gave her a sheepish smile. "I saw you with the king," she said lightly. "Didn't want to interrupt your... moment."

Advika sighed, running her fingers through her wet hair, droplets cascading down her arms. "Saanvi, I think... I made a mistake," she admitted, her voice heavy with guilt.

"What kind of mistake?" Saanvi asked, leaning in as her ethereal presence shimmered with concern.

Advika hesitated, then told her everything; the near slip about having little time left, the quick lie she told to cover it up. "Do you think it'll cause problems? He looked suspicious, like he knows I'm hiding something." She glanced up, searching the ghost's face for reassurance.

Saanvi drifted into silence, thoughtful. After a moment, she spoke quietly, "I... don't know. How will you explain to anyone that you fear for your life? No ordinary person would believe it. Not even my father. Forget King Surya." Her voice softened, tinged with disappointment.

Advika exhaled slowly and sank deeper into the water, until only her face was visible. "You're right. No one has done anything yet..." she murmured before submerging herself for a brief moment. When she surfaced, water dripped from her face, and she reached for the bowl of hair pack nearby.

Saanvi floated closer and nudged the bowl toward her. "I've been watching my uncle and his wife," she said, her tone sharp. "I never realized how jealous they were of my family. They always seemed so kind, so humble."

Advika scooped some hair pack from the bowl and scoffed bitterly. "They're excellent actors."

"Actors?" Saanvi tilted her head, confused.

Advika chuckled softly. "Pretenders. People who pretend to be what they're not."

Saanvi nodded slowly, committing the word to memory. "Pretenders indeed," she murmured, a hint of disdain in her voice.

.. .. \- -/ .. .. \- -/ .. ..

The grand dining hall glowed with the morning sun, its golden light dancing across chandeliers and polished marble floors. The air hummed with quiet conversation, the soft clinking of silverware against porcelain, and the rhythmic steps of servants attending to guests with practiced grace.

Seated at her place near the head of the table, Princess Advika hesitated, then delicately cleared her throat.

"Your Majesty... Father?" she said softly, her tone respectful.

King Raghunath, mid-conversation with King Surya, turned to her with a mild, curious smile. "Yes, my child?"

Advika lowered her gaze. "With your permission, may I visit the royal bazaar today? I'd like to select gifts for our guests, as a gesture of our hospitality."

The king arched an eyebrow, his eyes flitting briefly to King Surya. He did not miss the way the young king's attention lingered on his daughter.

A knowing smile tugged at his lips. "I have a better idea," he said, his voice warm with mischief. "Why not extend the honor of your company to His Majesty, King Surya? A guided visit to our bazaar would certainly make his experience more... memorable."

Advika's breath caught. She glanced at Surya, who was already watching her with an unreadable intensity, and quickly looked away, her fingers curling tighter around her dupatta.

"I... I would not be opposed," she said softly. "If His Majesty so wishes, it would be my honor to accompany him."

From beside her, Nusrat raised an eyebrow and hid her smirk behind her goblet.

Across the table, King Surya's lips curled into the faintest of smirks, his gaze never wavering from hers.

"Then it is settled," King Raghunath declared, as he leaned back slightly, his fingers elegantly drumming against the armrest of his ornate chair. His sharp gaze flickered between the two before he turned to King Surya with a barely concealed smirk. "You do not object to this arrangement, do you, King Surya?" he inquired, his tone laced with feigned innocence.

Surya, who had been watching Advika with quiet amusement, straightened slightly. A glint of mischief danced in his eyes as he inclined his head respectfully. "On the contrary, Your Majesty," he said smoothly, his voice rich with confidence. "It would be my greatest honor."

His gaze shifted back to Advika, and a teasing smile played at his lips. The intensity in his eyes made her fingers tighten around her dupatta once more as she looked away, her cheeks tinged with the softest shade of pink.

King Raghunath observed the silent exchange, a knowing gleam in his eyes, before lifting his goblet to his lips, thoroughly entertained by the unfolding scene. A sense of satisfaction settled over him. His daughter was set to marry a man who, from the very first meeting, had shown a keen interest in her. It pleased him immensely to see that Surya's attentiveness toward Advika was not borne out of mere duty but something deeper... something genuine.

Nusrat leaned close once more, whispering under her breath, "If he stares any harder, your dupatta might catch fire."

.. .. \- -/ .. .. \- -/ .. ..

.. .. \- -/ .. .. \- -/ .. ..

The royal corridor echoed with the soft shuffle of guards and courtiers, but Crown Prince Devansh was making his way toward the court with single-minded purpose... until he caught something strange in the corner of his eye.

A flash of silk behind a marble pillar.

He slowed, frowning. What in the world...?

Silently changing direction, he crept up to the pillar and gave the figure a light tap on the shoulder. 

"Ms. Nusrat?!"

"AAAAHHHHH!" Nusrat shrieked and nearly leapt out of her skin. She spun around dramatically, her hand flying to her chest as if she'd just seen a ghost. "Oh, it's just you!" she gasped. "Your Highness, why would you sneak up on a person like that? I almost died!"

Devansh blinked, genuinely baffled. "Sneak up? I tapped you on the shoulder. I was walking. On the main path. You're the one crouching behind a pillar like a suspicious mango thief."

Nusrat narrowed her eyes at him. "It's called strategic placement, thank you very much."

He crossed his arms. "Why, exactly, are you strategically placed behind a pillar?"

"Oh," she said, straightening her posture and trying to look very dignified for someone who had just screeched like a tea kettle. "Well, you see... Saanvi and His Majesty, King Surya, were heading out to the bazaar, and she asked me to come along because she was feeling nervous. That poor thing."

"Okay... so?"

"So," Nusrat said, lowering her voice with a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes, "I didn't want to be the bone in their kabab, obviously. I mean, it's their chance to spend time together. Alone. Romantic. You know... royal bonding!"

Devansh squinted. "Wait. What's a kabab?"

Nusrat blinked. The smile dropped clean off her face. "That's what you took away from all of that? Seriously?"

Devansh flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, no! I mean, I heard the rest. I agree. Good idea, solid plan. I just... didn't understand the kabab-bone thing."

Nusrat let out a long-suffering sigh and crossed her arms. "Kabab," she explained like a weary schoolteacher, "is a dish. Usually meat, cooked over hot coals. Very smoky, very delicious. But imagine you're about to bite into a juicy kabab and bam! There's a bone. Ruins the moment. That bone... is me. That kabab... is their romance."

Devansh stared at her, slightly dazed. "That's... oddly poetic. And mildly disturbing."

"Thank you," she said with a curtsy. "I take pride in my metaphors."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, Ms. Kabab Bone. You planning to hide here all day?"

"Only until they've left the palace gates. After that, I'll dramatically 'realize' I forgot to join them and act very disappointed."

Devansh gave her a slow, amused nod. "You know, for someone not in the court, you're excellent at palace politics."

"Please," Nusrat scoffed, flipping a strand of hair over her shoulder. "I was born to meddle... gracefully, of course."

Devansh laughed. "You're... something else."

"Thank you. I will take that as a compliment," she said brightly, then looked around. "Alright, I think they're gone. I can now walk away like I've been doing important palace business all along."

She stepped out dramatically, smoothing her dress and holding her head high.

"Should I make an announcement for you too?" he teased. "Attention, palace staff! Ms. Nusrat was not hiding. She was busy... aligning the stars for a royal romance."

Nusrat gave him a pointed look. "Mock me all you want, Your Highness. But when they name their first child after me, you'll know who to thank."

Devansh laughed as he shook his head, watching her walk off like she ruled the place. Honestly, she was impossible.

And somehow... also adorable.

.. .. \- -/ .. .. \- -/ .. ..

.. .. \- -/ .. .. \- -/ .. ..

As Princess Advika and King Surya stepped into the bustling Rajmanya's royal bazaar, the lively hum of merchants calling out their wares, the fragrant aroma of fresh flowers and exotic spices, and the colorful stalls lining the streets created a vibrant scene. Advika's maids followed closely behind, while Surya's royal guards kept a watchful eye on their surroundings.

Advika and Surya strolled side by side through the bustling royal bazaar, their footsteps in sync with the rhythmic chatter of merchants and the vibrant energy surrounding them. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she eagerly took in the array of colorful stalls, each brimming with exquisite fabrics, glistening jewels, and aromatic spices. As this was the first time she was truly experiencing it in this lifetime.

Yet, no matter how much she tried to focus on her surroundings, her gaze kept drifting back to the man walking beside her. King Surya, however, seemed far less interested in the bazaar and far more captivated by her. His sharp eyes followed her every movement, as if committing each of her expressions to memory.

Noticing his unwavering attention, a sudden warmth bloomed in her cheeks. Her fingers instinctively clutched the edge of her dupatta as she quickly averted her gaze, pretending to admire a display of luxurious silk fabrics. But even as she ran her fingers over the delicate embroidery, she couldn't shake the awareness of his intense stare or the way it made her heart race.

Surya smirked as he caught her stealing glances at him. "Are you always this enchanted by fabric, Princess, or are you just avoiding my gaze?" he teased, his voice rich with amusement.

Advika cleared her throat, determined not to let him fluster her. "The fabric, of course. The craftsmanship is exquisite," she said, running her fingers over the silk. "Unlike certain people who have nothing better to do than stare."

Surya chuckled, stepping closer. "Can you blame me? The bazaar may be beautiful, but it pales in comparison to the company I have today."

Advika's cheeks heated, and she hastily moved to another stall, pretending to examine a set of perfumes. But Surya followed, standing beside her with a knowing expression. "Would you like me to pick a fragrance for you?" he asked, leaning in slightly.

She glanced at him warily. "And why would I trust your choice, Your Majesty?"

Surya grinned. "Because I have excellent taste. Just look at yourself." he boosted.

Advika let out a soft giggle, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Your Majesty, I think you're forgetting something. It was our fathers who arranged our betrothal. We never even met before," she pointed out, her lips curling into a cheeky smile.

Surya's gaze remained steady, his expression unreadable for a moment before he shook his head. "Wrong," he countered smoothly. "I have seen you before."

Her brows knitted together in confusion. "What? When?"

A knowing smirk played on his lips as he crossed his arms. "You were only a few months old at the time. Our fathers were the closest of friends, and when you were born after eight years of prayers and struggle, it was a grand celebration. My parents and I traveled to Rajmanya to congratulate your family. I even brought you a gift... a pair of tiny gold bangles," he revealed, a nostalgic warmth in his voice. "I was about twelve years old then."

Advika's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?!" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

Surya chuckled, nodding. "Yes. You were adorable. All chubby cheeks and big, curious eyes." His smirk widened as he leaned slightly closer. "You used to grip my finger so tightly that I couldn't pry it away."

Advika's mouth fell open before she quickly pouted, crossing her arms. "That's not fair. You're making it sound like I was a little potato!"

Surya laughed, thoroughly enjoying her reaction. "You were a very cute potato," he teased, his tone dripping with amusement.

She gasped, lightly swatting his arm, her cheeks now tinged with a rosy hue. "Your Majesty! That is not how a lady should be described!"

Still chuckling, Surya simply shrugged. "I only speak the truth, Princess."

As they passed a jewelry stall, the vendor excitedly presented delicate bangles. Before Advika could refuse, Surya picked up a set of intricately designed gold bangles and held them up. "These would suit you," he mused, his fingers lightly brushing against her wrist as he slipped them onto her hand.

Advika swallowed hard, her fingers gently tracing the intricate gold bangles as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink. "You didn't have to..." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"But I wanted to," Surya responded effortlessly, his gaze locked onto her face, amusement dancing in his eyes as he took in her reaction.

A shy smile tugged at Advika's lips as she admired the delicate jewelry, the warmth in her chest spreading like the soft glow of the morning sun. Her heart pounded, a pleasant sensation settling deep within her... one she couldn't quite put into words. She didn't realize it then, but something within her had started to shift. Slowly, unknowingly, she was beginning to fall for King Surya.

Surya's lips curved into a knowing grin as he caught the flicker of a hidden smile on her face. The sight pleased him more than he cared to admit. She had accepted his gift... not just the bangles, but the sentiment behind them. And for now, that was enough.

A few steps ahead, a group of street performers caught Advika's attention. Enthralled by their graceful movements, she didn't notice the small crack in the stone pavement. Just as she stumbled slightly, Surya's hand shot out, steadying her effortlessly.

"Careful, Princess," he murmured, his grip lingering just a bit longer than necessary. "I can't have you falling for anyone else but me."

Advika gasped softly at his bold words, her heart pounding. She quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in the performance, but Surya's deep chuckle told her he wasn't fooled.

After a while, they reached a specialized weapon stall, where the vendor eagerly began showcasing his wares. Surya's eyes lit up as he examined finely crafted swords and axes, appreciating the balance and artistry. But then, the vendor excitedly pulled out a dagger—its blade carved from shimmering faux crystal, the surface catching sunlight like liquid ice.

Turning to ask Advika's opinion, Surya froze.

She was no longer beside him in the same way. Her posture had stiffened. Her wide, unblinking eyes were fixed on the dagger with a look of raw fear. A tremble ran through her hand as it instinctively moved to clutch the edge of her dupatta.

"Your Majesty," the vendor chirped, oblivious, "this design is inspired by the Rajmanya royal family's crystal daggers..."

Surya gave the man a curt nod, his gaze never leaving Advika. Her breathing had quickened, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened on her brow.

That was enough.

He held up a hand to silence the vendor, offered a polite but firm smile, and stepped away, gently taking Advika's arm and guiding her through the crowd until they were far from the noise and watchful eyes.

In the quiet of a shaded alley near a fountain, Surya stopped. His hands came to rest lightly on her shoulders, grounding her.

"Princess..." His voice was low, careful, the way one might speak to someone waking from a nightmare. "What happened back there? Why did that dagger frighten you?"

...-...

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A/N: Advika and Surya are slowly becoming tangled in something deeper than either of them expected. Emotions are weaving between them, fragile and dangerous all at once.

Surya is beginning to notice her fears... the ones she tries so hard to hide.

But what happens if Advika finally tells him the truth?

Will he believe her?
Will he stand by her?
And can they really change a fate that already seems written?

What do you think will happen next? I'd love to hear your theories.

Please vote and leave a comment. Your support genuinely keeps me motivated to keep writing ❤️