The sun was sinking slowly behind the jagged peaks of the mountains that guarded the kingdom of Kanchangarh. As the sky bled into shades of deep crimson and violet, the massive marble walls of the royal palace began to glow like a haunted crown. Princess Arohi stood on her high balcony, her small, pale hands gripping the cold gold railing. To any outsider, she was the jewel of the kingdom, but as she stared at the horizon, she felt more like a prisoner in a gilded cage.
Inside her room, the scent of expensive jasmine incense was suffocating. Every corner of the chamber was filled with luxury—the silk curtains from distant lands, the sandalwood furniture carved by the finest craftsmen, and the jewelry boxes overflowing with rubies and emeralds. But Arohi hated it all. She hated the heavy silk dresses that felt like chains, and she hated the constant bowing of the silent servants.
"Princess, the Queen Mother expects your presence at the grand banquet. The King of the neighboring province is here to see you," a maid whispered, her head bowed so low she was almost touching the floor.
Arohi didn't even turn around. Her eyes were fixed on the dark, whispering forest beyond the palace gates. "Tell my mother I have a headache, Meera. I will be down when I am ready."
As the maid scurried away, Arohi let out a shaky breath. Her heart was beating like a trapped bird. In less than an hour, she had to slip past the royal guards and meet him. Aditya.
She closed her eyes and thought of the first time they met, six months ago. It was a hot summer afternoon, and she had managed to escape her guards for just an hour. She had found herself by the hidden riverbank, her royal dress torn by thorns. There, sitting on a rock, was a boy with eyes as bright as the morning sun. He wasn't wearing gold or silk; he was dressed in simple linen, playing a wooden flute. The music was so beautiful that even the birds had stopped singing to listen.
Aditya wasn't like the arrogant princes who came to win her hand. He didn't care about her title or her wealth. When she had told him her name was just 'Arohi', he had smiled and shared his simple meal of forest fruits with her. That day, for the first time in her life, she had tasted true freedom.
Over the last six months, their secret meetings had become her only reason to breathe. He taught her how to recognize the stars, how the river speaks to the stones, and how love feels when it isn't a political contract. But tonight, a strange shadow seemed to hang over the palace.
Arohi walked over to her large silver mirror. She saw a girl with long, dark hair and eyes filled with a desperate hunger for the world outside. She reached for a simple cloak to hide her royal attire. Little did she know that deep within the palace's darkest dungeon, her mother, the Queen, was standing before an ancient, black-magic altar.
The Queen's eyes were cold as ice. She had seen the reflection of her daughter's secret in a bowl of enchanted water. "A commoner dares to touch the blood of Kanchangarh?" the Queen hissed. A wicked sorceress stood beside her, chanting in a forbidden language.
"The curse is ready, Your Majesty," the sorceress whispered, her voice like dry leaves. "The boy will never see the sun again. By midnight, his heart will stop beating like a human's, and the hunger for blood will begin."
Arohi shivered as a sudden cold wind blew through her room, extinguishing the candles. She didn't know that her meeting tonight wouldn't be a romantic escape, but the beginning of a nightmare. The curse was coming for Aditya, and the golden cage of Kanchangarh was about to be stained with the shadows of the undead.