The journey began—Shivantika, Nayantara, and Rajveer—three souls bound by fate and secrecy, walking through dust-laden paths and shadowed forests toward Kayati.
Seven days had passed, and only one remained before they would reach the city. In these days, they neither truly slept nor ate to their heart's content. Their meals were reduced to scraps—fruit rinds and offerings from kind strangers who mistook them for weary travelers. Nayantara's plan to disguise their identities had worked remarkably well. Whenever suspicion rose, it was Shivantika's keen intellect and presence of mind that diffused the danger. They were an unlikely trio—Nayantara, a healer with knowledge flowing through her veins; Rajveer, a warrior whose fists spoke louder than words; and Shivantika, whose noble blood had birthed not only grace, but sharp wit and determination.
As twilight cloaked the seventh night, they decided to rest in the forest that bordered Kayati. The trees rustled with wind, and stars began to pierce the navy sky. Rajveer kindled a small bonfire, its warmth crackling through the silence.
Shivantika, exhausted, curled beside the flames and drifted into a deep sleep. Even though her life had changed, some things hadn't—her sleep still bore the serenity of a princess used to silk pillows and lullabies.
Nayantara sat nearby on a flat stone, her feet blistered and sore, throbbing with the weight of the journey. She hadn't the strength or supplies to treat her wounds. She sighed, clutching her ankle, her eyes heavy with pain.
Rajveer, meanwhile, found himself staring at Shivantika, his gaze lingering too long.
"What kind of man are you?" Nayantara quipped, trying to mask her fatigue with humor. "Staring at a girl while she sleeps?"
He chuckled softly. "It's just… the way she sleeps reminds me of a story my grandmother told me—of a sleeping princess, untouched by time. And…," he hesitated, his voice faltering.
"And?" Nayantara raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly.
"And nothing," he finished, shrugging as though he hadn't just revealed more than intended.
"Ha! It's the first time I've seen you at a loss for words," Nayantara teased, though something in her smile didn't reach her eyes.
Rajveer's lips curled into a quiet smile as he looked down, his fingers gently tracing a line in the dirt. Nayantara glanced at him, her heart skipping, cheeks warming. She looked away quickly, masking the emotion that threatened to betray her.
After a long pause, Rajveer finally asked, "Nayan… how is Princess Shivantika related to you?"
Nayantara blinked. "Well… Shubhangi is my cousin—my father's sister's daughter."
She stopped mid-sentence, her expression shifting from casual to alarmed. "Wait—how do you know she's Princess Shivantika?"
Rajveer smiled faintly, almost apologetically. "I've known from the moment I saw her. Don't you remember our last visit to Ampranam? The King summoned your father for medicine, and I came along. One afternoon, Her Highness fell from a wall—scraped her knee. She fainted, and I carried her back to her chamber before the guards took over. You never saw me. I was sent away."
Nayantara stared at him, stunned.
"I never told anyone," Rajveer added. "But the image of her… it stayed. Her dark hair, those commanding eyes, the gold labret that gleamed like it had a story of its own—she was unforgettable."
The depth of his memory stung Nayantara like cold steel. She didn't speak. A single tear threatened to fall—clear and unnoticed by the world, like her feelings.
Rajveer saw it, but said nothing.
That night, only one among them remained awake—Nayantara. Silent sobs shook her shoulders. She wept into her arms, hoping no one could hear her.
But Shivantika heard. She stirred from her sleep, her instincts sharp as ever. The quiet sobs weren't just echoes of past grief. This pain was fresh, intimate. Shivantika listened silently, her heart heavy. She didn't speak, for they were not close enough yet. But a seed of empathy was planted that night.
By dawn, the trio resumed their journey. Nayantara walked beside them, her lips sealed, her gaze low. Not a word escaped her. Rajveer noticed but dared not ask. Even Shivantika, ever observant, chose silence.
When they reached Kayati's gates, towering and majestic, a guard stepped forward. The city was crawling with soldiers, and every entry point was tightly monitored.
"You there! State your purpose. If you are from Shi, show your identification," the guard demanded.
The accent in their voices had betrayed them. They were not natives of Shi, and the suspicion was immediate. Nayantara and Rajveer exchanged a glance—panic swelling in their chests.
Just then, Shivantika stepped forward and pulled a ring from her pouch. It shimmered under the morning sun—an emblem of the royal household of Braheshwat.
"This," she said calmly, "is the Queen's personal ring. She sent us to bring her a rare antidote for the crown prince. We are trusted physicians. Will you detain us and risk your Queen's wrath?"
The guard paled. He dropped to his knees. "Forgive me, my lady! I… I didn't know. Please, don't report this! If you wish, I can arrange a ride—anything!"
"That won't be necessary," Shivantika replied coldly. "We prefer to walk."
As they walked away, Nayantara stared at her. "Where did you get that ring? What if he hadn't believed you?"
Rajveer narrowed his eyes. "Yes… Princess Shivantika… how did you manage to convince him?"
Shivantika froze. "You knew?"
He nodded. "From the moment I saw you."
She sighed and finally shared the truth—how the Queen had gifted her the ring during her betrothal to the crown prince of Braheshwat. It was a part of a past she had tried to forget.
Just then, a blur dashed past them—a child. He snatched Shivantika's pouch and ran.
"Hey! Stop!" Nayantara shouted.
They chased him into the market, but the crowd swallowed him whole. He vanished like mist.
Panting, Shivantika said, "Let it go. It was just coins. The ring is still with me."
"But how did you know about the prince being unwell?" Nayantara asked.
"I read it in their eyes," Shivantika replied. "The guards were looking for healers. The prince is known to always keep one nearby. I took a risk."
They continued down a narrow alley when they spotted the same boy again—smirking, eyes gleaming.
"There!" Nayantara shouted, running after him.
The boy led them through twisting paths into a walled enclosure. Before they could react, he turned around and spoke in an eerie tone, "You shouldn't have come. But your fate is already written, Princess. Soon, your purpose will be clear—and then you shall be free."
Before they could question him, figures emerged from the shadows. Black cloths covered their faces. Pressure points were struck, and everything went dark.
When they awoke, it was in a cold, pitch-black room. Their hands were tied.
"Nayantara! Wake up!" Rajveer called.
"I'm here! Are you both alright?" Nayantara's voice trembled in the dark.
Just then, a door creaked open, letting in a shaft of dusty light. A man entered. His face remained in shadow.
"You're awake. Good," he said calmly. "Now tell me—what are three fugitives from Ampranam doing in Kayati? Princess Shivantika Arya. Physician Nayantara Singh. Warrior Rajveer Gupta."
Shivantika's blood ran cold.
"How do you know who we are?" she demanded, her voice sharp with fear.
But before anyone could respond, Nayantara suddenly gasped, "Are you… him?"