**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and thus does not revolve around the real world. Words or incidents mentioned do not signify anything related to the real world. **
**Some changes were made in the previous chapter; it is advisable to read it before proceeding.**
"It began long before you ever knew, Shivantika…"
Sidharth's voice was quiet, yet it carried the weight of secrets that had been chained. He stood near the carved sandalwood lattice, where the last light of evening filtered through, casting dusky patterns across his robe. Outside, the royal garden had grown hushed — the fountains whispered faintly, and the breeze carried in the cool scent of damp earth.
In the corner, a small lamp flickered, its flame swaying gently and filling the chamber with the faint fragrance of sandal and oil. Shivantika sat upon the low divan, her palms pressed to her knees, her gaze unblinking. Inside the chamber, silence stretched taut between them, as though the world itself was holding its breath before night fully arrived.
*****
The First Meeting
"I met her," Sidharth began, "in the gardens of Braheshwat, on the eve of your betrothal feast. She came veiled in pale gold — the kind of modesty that hides not from fear, but for the delight of unveiling. There was… light in her, Shivantika. A rare kind."
Shivantika tilted her head slightly, saying nothing.
"We spoke beneath the Bougainvillea trees which are your favourite, as well as hers. At first, it was courtesy — a prince greeting a noblewoman. But when I left that night, I could still hear her laughter in my ears. That was the beginning."
*****
Forbidden Affection
"In the months that followed," he continued, "I found reasons to remain in Braheshwat longer than duty required. We met where no eyes could follow — under silk canopies during festivals, on moonlit terraces after the court had retired. And slowly, liking turned to love."
Shivantika's brow furrowed. "Then why… why keep her hidden?"
Sidharth gave a faint, bitter smile. "Because it could never be spoken aloud. She was a princess of Braheshwat — daughter of the Queen, born of a royal consort. And I… I was Ampranam's prince, but born of a concubine. Such a union, in the eyes of our councils, would have been an insult."
He paused briefly, his voice softening. "Perhaps that is why you have always trusted me more than anyone, Shivantika. You saw me not as the King's second-born or a son of lesser birth, but simply as your brother. You never judged me by the whispers that followed me through the court."
For the first time, her expression softened. "Because you never once made me feel like a princess," she murmured. "Only like a sister who could breathe freely."
*****
The Political Rift
"Then came the dissolution of your betrothal to Ahil," Sidharth said gravely. "What had once been hailed as the bond to strengthen two kingdoms was undone in a single decree. In its wake, suspicion deepened; the border provinces grew restless, and within the Braheshwat court, the air thickened with doubt and hostility.
What began as a severed alliance soon widened into a rift neither realm could ignore. Accusations passed from one court to the other like poisoned arrows, and what had begun as a matter of family and promise had become the seed of distrust between two great thrones."
Shivantika remembered the day with aching clarity — the way her father, King Devraj of Ampranam, had returned from Braheshwat, his face shadowed by anger and disappointment. A servant followed him, clutching a sealed scroll. The chamber had fallen silent as he broke the wax and read its contents. When he finally looked at her, his voice was heavy, almost breaking. "You will no longer be Queen of Braheshwat," he said. Their engagement had been annulled.
Sidharth continued, "after your broken engagement, Suragini went to her parents. She told them she wished to marry me."
Shivantika's eyes widened. "She… asked them?"
"Yes." His jaw tightened. "They did not merely refuse. They forbade it. To them, such a marriage was beneath her station — a humiliation. They called it folly."
*****
The Flight to Ampranam
"She did not accept their decision," Sidharth said. "On the fourth night after their refusal, she fled the palace. Alone, under the moonlight, she crossed into Ampranam and came to me — to the place where we sometimes met in secret."
"I could not bring her openly into court," he continued. "The scandal would have been immediate — whispers in the durbar, accusations of abduction. So I placed her where no one would question her presence… at your side, as your personal maid."
Shivantika stared at him, her memories shifting into something unfamiliar. "She was my maid," she whispered, "and all the while…"
"She was the Princess of Braheshwat," Sidharth finished. "Ahil's sister."
The words landed like a blade.
Before she could speak further, Sidharth added, "When I brought her to the palace, I told your mother — Badi Rani — myself. She already had a soft place in her heart for me; she listened and did not scold. She understood the danger, the shame Suragini would face, and she accepted the secret because she trusted my word."
*****
Ahil's Mission
"When her absence became known in Braheshwat, her parents were humiliated. They could not demand her return through open channels without admitting she had fled for love of an Ampranam prince."
Shivantika's voice was sharp. "And so they sent Ahil?"
Sidharth nodded. "He offered himself for the task — to travel in disguise, without banners or guards, and bring her back quietly. The Emperor agreed."
There was one thing he added, quietly: "Ahil and I — we were best friends since childhood. We had been playmates before politics taught us caution. That is why wrote to me first about his arrival."
*****
The Bandit Encounter
"On his way to Ampranam, fate played its hand differently," Sidharth continued. "Before he even sought me out… destiny made him meet you first."
"You were returning from the temple with our Grandmother, Badi Rani Maa, the Empress Dowager, when the bandits fell upon your caravan. Ahil told me of it later. He saw you cornered, dagger in hand, defiant but outnumbered. He cut them down, one after another, and shielded you with his own sword."
Shivantika's mind whirled back — the clash of steel, the stranger's steady eyes, the strength of his stance. That moment had never left her.
*****
Arrival in Secret
"Only after that," Sidharth said, "did he come to me. He revealed himself, but only in confidence. He asked my help in persuading Suragini to return. I tried. But she refused. She said she would rather serve in your chambers than return to her palace without me."
*****
The Queen's Trust
Sidharth's eyes softened as he spoke of her mother. "Badi Rani treated me kindly not out of pity alone. My mother — the royal concubine — had served her house faithfully for years. The Queen, Badi Rani, had seen how my mother tended her children, how she put the palace before her own pride. Even when the court whispered, Badi Rani saw my mother's loyalty, and through that loyalty she saw me.
"More than that, I had protected the palace in my younger days — small acts that mattered. Badi Rani had watched me grow and had come to see me as more than my birth. She trusted me as one would trust a son."
Shivantika's eyes glistened. "That is why she let Suragini stay here… and why she trusted you."
"Yes," he whispered. "You were safe, in her eyes, because she believed in me."
*****
The Queen's Fury
Sidharth's eyes darkened. "When word reached Braheshwat that Ahil had not returned with her, the Empress of Braheshwat sent her wrath instead. She accused me of bewitching her son and disgracing her daughter. And when Father's concubine — my mother — tried to shield me before the council, she was struck down for defying the King's decree."
He drew a trembling breath. "She did not die at once. I found her later that night, bleeding near the prayer hall. Her last words were not for herself — but for me to protect you."
Shivantika's eyes glistened. Her voice broke. "That is why… you never left my side."
"Yes," he whispered. "You are all I have left."
*****
Days into Years
"He had intended to leave after that," Sidharth said softly. "But the days stretched into weeks. He lingered, first for Suragini's sake… and then, perhaps, for yours."
Shivantika's eyes snapped to his. "Perhaps?"
"You began speaking with him," Sidharth said quietly. "You laughed with him. In a foreign land, where even his own sister would not speak to him, you gave him your heart. And slowly… he began to see you as a man sees what he cannot claim, yet cannot stop desiring."
*****
The Present Wound
Silence fell. The small lamp wavered, its glow throwing long shadows across the chamber walls.
Shivantika's voice trembled. "So when he came here, it was not for me at all. It was for his sister."
"Yes," Sidharth said. "But when he stayed… that was for you."
The words struck like iron, leaving her frozen where she stood. The chamber felt too small, the air too heavy, as if the very walls pressed in upon her.
She could neither rise nor speak; instead, her heart wandered to Ahil — to the tender moments they had shared, the warmth of his words, the quiet strength of his presence. Lost in those memories, she felt only love stir within her.
And still, Sidharth watched her with eyes that held something more — something he had not yet said but was about to.