The morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting golden streaks across the marble floor.
Myra stirred slowly, her breath soft, face pale from the night before. Ranvijay stood at the far end of the room, already dressed in a charcoal black kurta, the collar sharp, hair slicked back — a mask of composure carved perfectly into his jaw.
Not a single emotion on his face.
But inside?
He was chaos.
He turned as he heard her shift. "Good morning," he said, voice cool, neutral.
Myra sat up slowly, rubbing her temples. "Morning," she replied in a small voice, her gaze not quite meeting his.
There it was again.
That fragility.
That faint confusion in her eyes like her mind was chasing shadows she couldn't remember.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, walking to pour her a glass of water.
She hesitated. "I… I think so. Just… a strange dream."
His hand tensed slightly on the glass, but his voice remained steady. "Nightmares are just thoughts trying to trick you, Myra. Don't let them in."
She took the glass from his hands. Their fingers brushed. She looked up.
For a moment… just a moment… her eyes searched his face like they were looking for something.
He smiled faintly. "Don't think too much. It's a beautiful day."
But as he walked away, his own words rang hollow in his ears.
Because the truth was—he was already fighting a war she didn't even know existed.
---
Later that afternoon, Shiv entered the royal study. Ranvijay was there, standing near the bookshelves, staring out the massive arched window overlooking the garden where butterflies danced over rose beds — the same garden Myra had once lit up with her laughter.
"Bhaiya," Shiv said softly, "She had a panic attack last night?"
Ranvijay didn't turn. "Yes."
Shiv took a step closer. "You think it was… him?"
"She doesn't remember yet," Ranvijay said, voice low, dangerous, as if the mere idea scorched his throat. "But she's starting to feel something. And if he triggers it again…"
Shiv clenched his fists. "Then what will you do?"
Ranvijay finally turned to face him. His eyes weren't angry.
They were haunted.
"I'll burn every trace of her past if I have to," he said, each word heavy. "I will not let her remember. Not when it hurts her. Not when it breaks her."
"But Bhaiya… how long can you keep her in the dark?"
"As long as I have breath," he replied. "If keeping her safe means she hates me someday, then so be it. I'd rather she hates me in peace than love me in pain."
Shiv didn't respond.
He couldn't.
Because deep down, he knew—
Ranvijay had already chosen his punishment.
And it was to carry the truth alone.
------------------
Next Day
The palace felt different that morning—a softer buzz in the air, the kind that made one tiptoe unconsciously. Pale golden sunlight streamed through the latticed jharokhas, casting patterned shadows across the marble floors. It was the beginning of the sacred three-day ritual, one that honored the lineage of royal women and invoked blessings for the house. During these three days, only the women of the palace were allowed to remain within the inner sanctum, where rituals, offerings, and traditions as old as time were observed.
No men were allowed past the eastern corridor. That rule was clear. Sacred. And unbreakable.
Myra stood at the far edge of the open courtyard, draped in a soft peach saree that shimmered faintly under the morning sun. The pallu was pinned carefully over her shoulder, and fresh jasmine flowers adorned her braid. A faint tilak of sandalwood marked her forehead, and tiny golden jhumkas swayed with every turn of her head.
Anika, standing beside her in a deep maroon saree, looked radiant but equally mischievous. Her eyes sparkled every time the priests turned away, whispering little nothings to Myra that made her giggle under her breath. Dadi sa had already scolded them twice for being distracted. But the atmosphere, despite its sacredness, felt warm and festive.
"I wish this would go on forever," Myra whispered to Anika, her fingers playing with the edge of her pallu. "It feels like... I don't know, like sisterhood."
Anika nodded, her smile softening. "Exactly. It's not often we get this space just for us. No men barging in, no Shiv teasing or Ranvijay brooding."
At the mention of Ranvijay, Myra's fingers froze mid-motion. She looked away, feigning focus on the priests reciting mantras by the tulsi altar. Anika noticed but didn't press.
---
Outside, in the outer courtyard, Ranvijay leaned against a carved pillar, arms folded, staring at the line that separated him from the other side. The eastern corridor gleamed in silence, the sheer white curtains fluttering slightly.
"You're here again," Shiv said, approaching with two cups of chai. He handed one to Ranvijay and raised an eyebrow. "Third time in an hour."
"Just making sure the security's tight," Ranvijay said smoothly, without breaking his gaze.
Shiv sipped, trying to play it cool. "Yeah. Me too. Just checking in. Definitely not because I want to know what girls are doing ."
Ranvijay finally looked at him sideways. "You're worse at lying than you think."
Shiv shrugged, giving a half-smile. But deep down, something restless twisted inside him. He hadn't seen Anika since last evening. Not even a glimpse. And it was strange how much that bothered him.
They both stood there in silence, two kings at the border of a kingdom they couldn't enter.
---
Inside, Dadi sa clapped her hands, calling everyone to attention. "Girls, focus. The first offering is the most important. Today we offer to Ma Durga. Strength. Valor. Light. Remember your mothers, your foremothers, and the fire in your own hearts."
Myra closed her eyes as the incense curled around her. She didn't know why, but her heart felt... calm. Still. Like the palace was embracing her in ways she never imagined.
Anika bumped her gently with her shoulder. "Tonight, we get to do girls' night. No puja after sunset. Just gossip, sweets, and secrets."
Myra smiled. "And no boys?"
"Especially no boys."
They giggled like they were back in school.
Outside, unknown to them, Ranvijay and Shiv made their silent vows.
They would get in. One way or another.