They talked for a while, Karan recounting humorous incidents from his journey to the palace, his expressive gestures and animated tone drawing peals of laughter from Aditi.

For a moment, she forgot her worries, basking in the warmth of his presence. But just as her spirits began to lift, a thought clouded her mind, and her laughter faded.

As their conversation flowed effortlessly, Aditi's smile suddenly faltered. Her expression grew hesitant as she glanced at him. “Hume aapse kuch saanjha karna chahte hai,” she said softly, her voice carrying a nervous edge.

(I want to share something with you.)

Karan immediately noticed the change in her demeanor, concern flickering in his eyes. “Kya baat hai?” He asked, leaning slightly forward, his voice gentle yet probing.

(What it is?)

Aditi's fingers fidgeted with the edge of her dupatta as she gathered the courage to speak. "Humara ek shauk hai. Aur hum aapse anumati lena chahte hain uske liye,” she said, her tone uncertain, her eyes pleading as they met his.

(I have a hobby. And I want to take your permission for that.)

Karan frowned slightly, his confusion evident. “Aap ese kyun keh rahi hain? Hum aapko kisi cheez ke liye nahi rokenge,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring.

(Why are you saying like this? I won't stop you for anything.)

Reaching out, he carefully caressed her cheek, his touch soothing. “Phir bhi agar aap chahein, to hume bata sakti hain,” he added, encouraging her gently.

(Still, if you want, you can let me know.)

Aditi managed a faint smile, but doubt still lingered in her gaze. She hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, her words shaky. "Woh.. hume teerandazi ka shauk hai,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes cautiously watching his reaction.

(Actually.. I'm fond of archery.)

Karan froze, his hand stopping mid-motion before slowly falling away from her cheek. His expression shifted to one of sheer disbelief, his brows furrowing as if he hadn't heard her correctly. “Kya?” He asked, his voice tinged with shock and uncertainty.

(What?)

Aditi's heart raced as she saw his reaction, but she pressed on, her voice trembling. “Kripya, hume mana mat kijiye. Hume sikhna hai,” she pleaded, her tone filled with desperation.

(Please, dont deny. I want to learn.)

Karan remained silent for a moment, his eyes softening slightly-not because of her begging, but because her request was so unexpected. He had never imagined she would ask for something like this.

The weight of her vulnerability struck him deeply, leaving him momentarily speechless as he processed her words.

He exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. He took her hands in his, his touch firm but gentle. “Hume kshama karna, Aditi. Par ye sab ladkiyan nahi karti hain. Aapko koi avashyakta nahi hai is sab ki,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with regret.

(I'm sorry, Aditi. But these things aren't for women. You don't need to do this.)

Aditi's eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. “Par hume pasand hai. Aur isme koi galat baat bhi toh nahi hai,” she argued softly, her voice barely audible.

(But I like it. And there's nothing wrong with it.)

Karan shook his head slowly. “Humare yaha ye sab nahi hota hai. Aap kuch aur maang lijiye, hum wo sab lekar denge. Par.. aapka hathiyaar chalana hume manzoor nahi hai.”

(These things don't happen in our culture. Ask for anything else, and I'll get it for you. But using a weapon is something I cannot allow.)

Aditi looked down, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She knew he wasn't wrong-no kingdom would accept a woman wielding a weapon. The rules of their world were unyielding.

"Thik hai. Hume kahama kar dena agar aapko bura laga ho toh,” she said softly, forcing a smile despite the tears threatening to spill.

(Alright. Forgive me if I upset you.)

Karan sighed and cupped her face, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears. “Kshama mat maangiye. Hume bura nahi laga”" he said tenderly.

(Don't apologize. I'm not upset.)

He stayed by her side, his lighthearted stories and playful teasing gradually lifting her spirits.

By the time he left, after pulling her into a warm, reassuring hug, Aditi's heart felt lighter. Though she was still hurt, Karan's presence had reminded her that she wasn't entirely alone.

As Karan stepped out of Aditi's room, his footsteps echoed softly down the long corridor. A faint smile lingered on his face, a reflection of the warmth he felt after their heartfelt conversation.

He adjusted the folds of his stole over his shoulder and glanced briefly back at the closed door. The smile deepened for a moment before he continued walking, his thoughts still with Aditi.

Unbeknownst to him, two figures stood partially hidden in the shadows of a nearby alcove, their eyes following his retreating form.

The moment he disappeared from their sight, one of them broke the silence, her voice sharp yet measured.

“Apko nahi lagta ye sab galat ho raha hai?” Meera—Advika's dasi—asked, tilting her head slightly toward Advika, her tone carrying both concern and curiosity.

(Don't you think all of this is wrong?)

Advika's expression remained neutral, but her mind raced with a thousand thoughts. Her gaze stayed fixed on the empty hallway where Karan had walked, her heart heavy with unspoken emotions.

“Kya matlab hai apka, Meera?” She responded calmly, her voice gentle yet firm as she turned to face her.

(What do you mean, Meera?)

Meera adjusted the dupata of her ghagra, her brow furrowed with a mix of worry and determination. “Humara matlab hai.. aap is Rajya ki badi beti hain, toh us hisaab se aapka vivah pehle nahi hona chahiye?” She asked pointedly, her voice tinged with concern.

(I mean, you are the eldest daughter of this palace, so shouldn't your marriage take place first?)

Advika sighed softly, her shoulders slumping as the weight of Meera's words pressed on her.

She spoke in a low voice, her words carrying a hint of sadness. “Hume filhal vivah mein koi dilchaspi nahi hai. Aur Baba ne bhi koi dabav nahi dala.”

(I have no interest in marriage at the moment. And Father hasn't pressured me either.)

Meera shook her head, a hint of irritation creeping into her tone. "Par iska arth ye nahi ki aapka vivah baad mein ho.." She countered, her voice rising slightly.

(But that doesn't mean your marriage should take place later.)

Advika's expression grew pensive, her sadness deepening as she lowered her gaze. Her voice wavered as she admitted, “Meera, hum sach bataye toh hume... ateet mein jo kuch bhi hua, uske baad humse ye sab nahi hoga.”

(Meera, to be honest, after everything that happened in the past, I don't think I can handle this.)

Meera rolled her eyes, a smug smile playing on her lips as she replied, “Aap toh pareshan ese ho rahi hain jaise sab aapne kiya tha.”

(You're worrying as if you were the one responsible for everything.)

Advika's face changed instantly, the sadness replaced by a flash of irritation at Meera's bluntness.

But before she could respond, Meera pressed on, her voice soft but deliberate. “Aur kya ho agar aapka vivah Rajkumar Karan se ho jaye toh?”

(And what if your marriage happens with Prince Karan?)

Advika's eyes widened in disbelief, and her voice rose in protest. “Kya bakwas kar rahi hain aap?”

(What nonsense are you talking about?)

Meera, however, remained composed, her tone thoughtful as she explained. “Hum sahi keh rahe hain. Kal ko agar Rajkumari Aditi ka saara sach bahar aa gaya toh? Aur Rajkumar ne unhe bahar phek diya toh? Wo toh waise bhi barbad hain, agar ye ho gaya toh humare rajya ka naam har jagah badnaam ho jayega. Phir aapse toh aur koi vivah bhi nahi karega. Ye sochkar ki agar chhoti beti itni bekaar hai toh badi toh aur hogi.”

(I'm speaking the truth. What if Princess Aditi's entire truth comes out tomorrow? And if the Prince abandons her? She's already in ruins, and if this happens, our kingdom's reputation will be tarnished everywhere. Then no one will agree to marry you either, thinking that if the younger daughter is so useless, the elder must be worse.)

Her words hung heavy in the air, and Advika turned away, her expression unreadable. But her mind was far from calm.

Meera's argument was unsettling, and as much as Advika hated to admit it-it wasn't entirely wrong.

She was no stranger to the harsh judgments of the world. If Aditi's truth were to be revealed, the repercussions would be devastating-not just for Aditi, but for the entire family. And Advika knew she wouldn't be spared from the fallout.

“To hume kya karna chahiye?” She finally asked, her voice trembling with worry as she turned back to Meera.

(So what should I do?)

Meera sighed, her expression softening with genuine concern. “Ya toh aap apna vivah pehle kariye, ya toh phir aap Rajkumar Karan se vivah kariye,” she said firmly, her tone both determined and caring.

(Either you get married first, or you marry Prince Karan.)

Advika bit her lip, her gaze fixed on a distant point as her thoughts swirled. She didn't want to upset Aditi, no matter how strained their relationship had become. Deep down, she still cared for her younger sister.

But at the same time, she couldn't ignore the potential disaster that loomed over their family and their kingdom's reputation.

Her heart waged a silent war with her mind. On one hand, the idea of marrying Karan felt like a betrayal to Aditi. On the other hand, the fear of being framed and rejected-a fate she couldn't bear-gnawed at her resolve.

The silence stretched between them as Advika grappled with her decision. Finally, she looked at Meera, her voice barely above a whisper. “Hume sochne ka samay chahiye.”

(I need time to think.)

Meera nodded, her expression understanding but resolute. “Par der mat kariye, Rajkumari. Kuch nirnay samay par lene avashya hote hain.”

(But don't delay, Princess. Some decisions need to be made on time.)

As Advika stood there, torn between loyalty and self-preservation, the weight of her choice pressed heavily on her shoulders.

The palace, once her sanctuary, now felt like a battlefield, and the fight ahead was one she wasn't sure she was ready to face.

───※ To be continued ※───