The weight of her words settled heavily between them, a long pause enveloping the air, thick and suffocating.
"The Rajputana Confederacy was paid off to incite unrest along the borders," she continued, her expression grave. "But the true orchestrator lurks within the royal court itself."
Veer narrowed his eyes, his instincts flaring. "A traitor?" he asked, the taste of bitterness seeping into his voice.
She nodded solemnly. "A powerful one. Someone who fears the rise of the princess, and more notably, her connection to you."
That revelation struck Veer like a clap of thunder, echoing in the vastness of his mind.
"They witnessed her smile at your stall," she went on, her voice a whisper that held a weight of fear and urgency. "They saw her defend you in court. This has stirred serious concern among the elite—they believe you are influencing her, changing her. So they move swiftly, before that change takes root and becomes irreversible."
Veer stood frozen in place, his heart racing rapidly in his chest, a thousand thoughts cascading through his mind. "Who is behind this?"
With a pause, Ruksana inched forward and handed him a folded parchment, its surface sealed with wax—the seal foreign, one that didn't belong to royalty of the realm he knew.
With bated breath, Veer unfurled the parchment with caution. Inside was not a map tracing plots of land or diagrams of an army but a hauntingly detailed sketch of his shop, rendered from above. It was labeled unmistakably with a single, chilling word: "Target."
"You've been under surveillance since the very first day you sold your drink," she murmured, her voice carrying an undercurrent of urgency. "They fear what you symbolize. You're not just refreshing the people—you're inciting awakening within them."
A lump formed in Veer's throat, an amalgamation of fear and determination.
"Why are you revealing this to me?" he pressed, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with sincerity.
Ruksana lowered her hood, unveiling her face—travel-worn yet undeniably noble, etched with the story of her lineage. A faint tattoo, hidden yet significant, danced just below her collarbone, whispering secrets of her origin—a sign of her heritage.
In that instant, Veer glanced down at his hands, hands that had once been solely devoted to the simple artistry of mixing herbs and pouring water. Now, they felt heavy with purpose and potential.
"The war is on the horizon," she warned. "But the true battle lies within the palace walls. If you aim to protect the princess—and indeed, yourself—you must step boldly into that impending storm."
Veer inhaled deeply, his resolve crystallizing as he raised his gaze to meet her own, a familiar glint of defiance flickering in his eyes—the very same spark that had refused to be extinguished for long.
"Then let them come," he declared, conviction rolling through him like a tide. "Let them attempt to drown me. After all, I sell water, remember?"
A smirk curled at Ruksana's lips, a flicker of admiration shining through the shadows. "You'll need more than charm and refreshing drinks to stand against this tide."
With purpose, Veer tied the scroll securely and tucked it safely into the folds of his robe. "I possess something they lack," he affirmed, his voice firm and unwavering.
"A reason to fight."
---
"Let me share something with you that no courtier, no minister, and no spy lurking within this kingdom truly grasps."
"Power is not seized by swords, nor is it merely inherited by bloodlines. Rather, it is sculpted—drop by drop—in the minds and hearts of the people."
Veer took a bold step closer to her, the air between them thick with unspoken tension.
"I've spent a long time building that power," he began, his voice low but firm, each word dripping with conviction. "It's come through the smallest acts: the shared smiles, the countless cups of cool water offered to the weary, and the whispers of rumors and stories that spread like wildfire among the people. Right now, they don't fear me as they would a beast stalking the shadows, but they remember my name. Once a name takes root in people's minds, it blossoms into something greater — the power to lead, to sway hearts and minds. When the people remember you, they find themselves willing to follow."
As he spoke, he noticed her eyes narrowing, skepticism and doubt pooling there like storm clouds.
"You really think that public favor can protect you from a blade lurking in the dark?" she challenged, her voice sharp as a dagger.
Veer let a sly smirk dance across his lips, amused by her directness.
"No, not exactly. But it can certainly halt the hand that wields it," he retorted, confidence brimming in his tone.
He settled back down by the fire, the flames casting flickering shadows across his determined face. Looking up at her, he became serious, his stormy gaze piercing through the night.
"You told me that the princess is in imminent danger. That this kingdom resembles a chessboard, where the gleaming tiles hide rivers of blood beneath their polished surfaces. I have every reason to believe you."
Her silence was palpable, and he could sense her calculating mind churning through possibilities.
"Yet here's the crucial piece you seem to be missing…" he leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if sharing forbidden knowledge.
"The game is already in motion, and I'm no mere pawn within it."
The woman held her ground, arms crossed defiantly as her trained eyes delved deep into his, searching for any sign of vulnerability, any hint of arrogance, any bluff that would betray him.
But to her surprise, she found none of those things. Instead, all she saw reflected back at her was a quiet, steely intent, unflinching and calculated.
"I've already penetrated the walls of the court," Veer continued with quiet confidence. "The king trusts me completely, and the ministers are locked in heated debates about my influence. You should know, even the princess… well, she's observant. She's beginning to question everything around her — the world she thought she understood is becoming uncertain."