Hello, guys. Thank you for choosing this story.
It's my first time writing on Webnovel, and I'm truly happy you're here.
I hope you enjoy this journey filled with mystery, emotion, and desert magic.
Now... let's step into the introduction.
People say the desert hides many secrets.
Aranya never believed that...
not until the day she stepped into the old, broken palace of Dharamveergarh.
She had come only for her journalism project.
A simple visit, a few photographs, a small article that was all she planned.
But the moment she entered the palace, everything changed.
The air turned colder.
The lamps flickered.
The silent halls felt strangely alive
as if the palace had been waiting for her arrival.
And then he appeared.
A tall, royal man stepped out of the shadows,
his eyes filled with a deep, aching pain
that she couldn't understand.
He looked at her as though he already knew her,
as though he had been waiting for her for a very long time.
Then he whispered softly:
"You are my bride."
Aranya froze.
She didn't know him.
She didn't remember any past.
She had no idea what he was talking about.
But the palace remembered.
The wind remembered.
The shadows remembered.
And every time she tried to walk away, something unseen tried to pull her back.
The ghost king kept repeating the same words a plea, a warning, a heartbreak:
"You left me once.
Please don't leave me again."
Aranya didn't understand the truth then.
But Dharamveergarh did.
And the ghost king who lived there had waited three hundred years
for his lost bride to return.