Chapter 23: First Glance, First Spark
General POV
The air near the grand Shiva temple of Ayodhya was thick with the scent of celebration. Fragrant spices swirled through the air — cumin, ghee, rosewater. Brass cauldrons bubbled, fires crackled, and volunteers bustled about with pots, trays, and laughter. It was the seventh birthday of Princess Vaidehi, the heart and joy of the kingdom.
Shon had finally reached the temple grounds after weaving through the colorful, bustling city streets. His body ached from the long journey, the wounds from his encounter in Naimisharanya still fresh and sore, but his spirit was light. The city was alive — children ran about with colored ribbons, women in silken saris hummed while chatting, and men lined up, laughing and smiling, waiting for food with empty plates and full hearts.
Shon joined the line, his humble appearance blending in easily among the common folk. He stood quietly, observing everything, letting the buzz of celebration wash over him.
After what felt like ages, he finally reached the front of the queue and was guided to an open space. He sat cross-legged on the temple ground, carefully stretching his legs to avoid his bruises. Plates were being filled by volunteers and royal guards — hot rice, fragrant daal, thick sabzi, and soft rotis. One guard served him steaming kheer topped with almonds and saffron.
And then she arrived.
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Princess Vaidehi's POV
I walked behind the guards, carefully carrying the silver bowl of gulab jamuns. Father always said I should understand my people — see them, serve them, love them. So on my birthday each year, I join the food distribution, offering sweets with my own hands.
I moved with purpose, smiling at the people who blessed me as I passed. Some called me their putri, others said I reminded them of Goddess Lakshmi. I gave each plate one gulab jamun and a heartfelt glance.
And then I saw him.
He sat quietly, his plate half-filled, his posture straight yet calm. He wasn't dressed like a noble, nor did he look like a local. His skin was tanned like someone who had walked a long distance under the sun, and his hair slightly ruffled, like he hadn't looked in a mirror for days. But his eyes…
They stopped me.
Dark, steady, and intense — like fire that knew how to be gentle.
I bent to offer him a sweet, and our eyes met. In that instant, the temple faded. The chatter disappeared. The clanging of utensils, the chanting priests, even the calls of birds — all fell silent.
He looked at me like he saw something sacred. Not a princess. Not royalty.
Just me.
And suddenly, my cheeks flushed.
I quickly placed another gulab jamun on his plate — why two, Vaidehi?! — and stood up. But my eyes betrayed me. They kept peeking back. Just a glance.
He was still looking.
He smiled.
Oh gods. My face was burning.
I shoved the bowl into a guard's hands and rushed back toward the palace, but my steps slowed every few feet. I glanced over my shoulder again. Just one more time.
He was still there.
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Shon's POV
I had braced myself for many things during this journey — hunger, pain, danger, even tigers.
But not... her.
She moved like poetry. Every step she took, the crowd seemed to part like flowers greeting sunlight. Her lavender silk dress fluttered softly in the breeze, and her long black hair framed her delicate face like a goddess descended among mortals.
But it was her eyes.
Brown, big, bright, and curious. Not proud or distant like you'd expect from royalty, but full of life. Like she actually saw me.
When she leaned in to place the sweet on my plate, I felt a strange tug in my chest. Her fingers were soft, her eyes even softer.
And then we just... stared.
I forgot I was hungry. I forgot where I was. All I could hear was the sound of her breath, all I could see was the reflection of me in her eyes.
She looked away. Then looked back. Then blushed.
She was definitely blushing.
Then she hurried off, flustered, her face pink like a sunrise.
And I sat there like a fool, smiling at my gulab jamun.
I popped it in my mouth.
Oh gods... it was heavenly.
Sweet. Warm. Soft.
Just like her.
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General POV
Just as Shon licked the syrup off his fingers, the royal drums began to beat. The crowd turned their heads. The guards stood straighter. A majestic figure walked in through the temple gate.
King Rajendra Dev — ruler of Ayodhya, aged and wise, with a presence that still made younger warriors nervous — stepped forward with folded hands and a warm smile.
He looked out at the people — thousands of them — seated and eating happily.
"My dear citizens," he called out, his voice strong yet kind, "you are not just the soul of this kingdom, you are its strength. Today, we celebrate not just the birth of my daughter, Vaidehi, but the joy and unity that binds us all together."
The crowd cheered.
"Every smile I see here today is a blessing upon her life," the king continued. "Thank you for joining us, for loving her like your own, for giving her your blessings."
There were murmurs of affection, nods, and a few people even had tears in their eyes.
Suddenly, a group of guards rushed forward and bowed.
"Your Majesty," one of them said breathlessly, "Sage Vishvamitra has entered the city. He has come to offer blessings to the princess."
The king's eyes widened slightly in surprise, then delight.
"Vishvamitra?" he repeated. "In Ayodhya?"
A few moments later, the great sage himself entered the temple grounds — tall, radiant, and calm. His matted locks, flowing beard, and eyes that saw through everything made the people fall silent in reverence.
He walked slowly, each step filled with power and peace.
The king immediately stepped forward and bowed low.
"Guru Vishvamitra," he said with deep respect, "your presence here is the greatest honor. Please, allow me to escort you to the palace."
"I was traveling nearby when I heard of the celebrations," the sage replied with a small smile. "I thought it only right to bless the child who brings so much joy to this land."
The people bowed. Some touched the ground in reverence. Children watched in awe.
As the king and sage left for the palace together, the crowd buzzed again with excitement.
Shon looked toward the temple steps, where the princess had stood just minutes ago. Her sweet still lingered in his mouth, but her eyes lingered in his soul.
He sighed, finally turning back to his now-cold food.
But even as he ate, his heart was warm.
Unknowingly, a new chapter in Shon's journey had begun. Not one written by fate, gods, or destiny.
But by two hearts that saw each other—just once—and never forgot.
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