The bright afternoon sun bathed the expansive garden of Maheshwari Mahal in warm light. Towering trees swayed gently in the breeze, their branches teeming with sparrows.

The sound of rustling leaves blended with the chirps of the birds, creating a peaceful, serene atmosphere.

In the middle of this beautiful garden stood a two-seater metal swing suspended from chains, its small shelter offering shade from the sun.

The lush grass beneath it was speckled with colorful flowers, adding splashes of vibrancy to the scene.

All around the garden, the sainik - guards of the Mahal - kept a watchful eye, ensuring the safety of the Mahal from every corner.

The air was thick with the scent of flowers, and the place felt like an oasis of calm in the midst of royal grandeur.

In the far corner of the garden, hidden from the view of the senapati and anyone else, was a young woman.

She was Rajkumari Aditi Maheshwari, the twenty-four—year-old younger daughter of Maheshwari Mahal.

Clad in a purple lehenga, neither too heavy nor too light, she stood poised, holding a bow and arrow. Her long, wavy hair was tied in neat plates, but a few loose strands framed her face, adding an air of determination to her focused expression.

Her gaze was fixed on a target marked on a tree.

Aditi was attempting archery, something she had secretly been practicing for a while now. With steady hands, she pulled the string of the bow back, aligning her aim carefully.

When she felt confident that the target was lined up, she released the arrow. But to her dismay, it missed, veering off course and flying past the target, disappearing behind the brush.

“Phir se nahi.” Aditi groaned in frustration, irritated with herself.

(Not again.)

This wasn't the first time she had missed. Despite her lack of skill in archery, Aditi was determined to learn. Even though her family and society at large believed that women should not use weapons, she was resolute in her desire to prove them wrong.

She continued practicing in secret, away from the prying eyes of her family, especially her mother, who was strictly against it.

As Aditi muttered to herself, a familiar figure rushed towards her, catching her attention. It was Ruchi, her loyal dasi, wearing a simple ghagra.

She was more than a servant to Aditi—she was a close friend, and the two shared a bond of trust and understanding.

Ruchi looked flustered, her face tense with concern as she huffed, trying to catch her breath. “Maharani ji aa rahi hai.” She said, her eyes wide with fear.

(The queen is coming.)

Aditi's eyes widened in panic, and her hand instinctively reached for the bow. Kahan chhupayein? She thought, her mind racing.

(Where should I hide it?)

Quickly, she darted towards a cluster of bushes and hid the bow there, hoping her mother wouldn't find out.

Just as she managed to hide the weapon, her mother, Maharani Vidya Maheshwari, arrived. Aditi's heart skipped a beat.

Vidya was a woman in her late forties—strict but kind, sharp, intelligent, and still as beautiful as ever. She wore a heavy violet saree adorned with intricate designs, and her crown gleamed in the sunlight.

Her jewelry—bangles, necklace, and earrings—sparkled, and her hair was tied in a loose bun, a gajra of fresh flowers woven into it. She was the epitome of grace and power.

“Yaha kya kar rahi hai aap?” Vidya asked, her gaze sharp as she fixed her eyes on Aditi.

(What are you doing here?)

Aditi felt her throat tighten. She gulped nervously but managed to steady her voice. “Kuch nahi. Wo.. hum bus yuhi tehel rahe the.”

(Nothing. I was just taking a walk.)

Vidya's eyes narrowed, her expression one of deep disappointment. She shook her head in disapproval.

“Kyu jhut bol rahi hai aap? Hum achi tarha se jante hai apko.”

(Why are you lying? I know you better than that.)

Aditi glanced at Ruchi, who was looking at the ground, avoiding her mother's gaze.

“Jante hai kitna samajhti hai aap hume.” Aditi said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, her tone edged with hurt.

(I know how much you understand me.)

Vidya's eyes widened in shock at her daughter's defiance. “Zaban na ladaiye aap hamare samne. Pure Maheshwari ka naam kharab hai apki wajhase, or phir bhi humne apko jagaha di hai yaha Mahal mai. Uske baad bhi aap hamara apman kar rahi hai?”

(Don’t argue with me. You have tarnished the reputation of the entire Maheshwari family, and yet we have given you a place here in this palace. And still, you are disrespecting me?)

Vidya’s voice was sharp and filled with anger. Aditi clenched her fists, biting her lip to keep her emotions in check. Her mother’s words stung, but she refused to show weakness.

“Bhagyashale hai aap jo aap jaise ladki se Raghuvanshi ke Rajkumar pyar karte hai. Agar unko zara si bhi bhanak lagi ki apne kya kiya hai..”

(You are fortunate that Raghuvanshi prince loves someone like you. If he even gets the slightest inkling of what you’ve done…)

Vidya’s words trailed off ominously as she cast a final glare at Aditi. Turning towards Ruchi, Vidya said with cold finality, “Aur tum. Humari beti ka samarthan karana band karo. Or apni seema mein raho.”

(And you, stop supporting my daughter. Stay within your limits.)

Vidya gave them one last look before walking away, her footsteps echoing in the stillness of the garden. The weight of her words hung heavily in the air.

Ruchi rushed to Aditi's side, her eyes teary with worry. “Rajkumari, humpe vishvaas kariya, humne Maharani ji ko kuch nahi bataya. Hume pata nahi unhe ye kese pata chala ki aap teerandaazi kar rahin hain.”

(Princess, please trust me, I haven't told the Queen anything. I don’t know how she found out about your archery practice.)

Ruchi's voice trembled, panic evident in her tone. Aditi let out a heavy sigh, wiping her eyes as she smiled at Ruchi. “Ghabraiye maat. Hume aap pe pura vishvas hai.”

(Don’t worry. I trust you completely.)

“Wo to hum isliye pakde gaye, kyuki maa hume bahot ache se jo janti hai.”

(I was caught because my mother knows me too well.)

Aditi's voice was light, but there was an unmistakable sarcasm in it, along with a hint of hurt that Ruchi noticed.

“Chaliye abb yaha se.”

(Let’s go from here now.)

Aditi said, her voice softer as she turned toward the palace. Ruchi followed without a word, both of them walking silently back to the Mahal.

Aditi and Ruchi walked in the serene garden of Maheshwari Mahal, but just as they were about to turn the corner, Aditi stopped in her tracks. Her eyes suddenly brightened, her lips curling into a soft smile as she looked toward the entrance of the Mahal.

Ruchi, noticing the change in her friend’s demeanor, raised an eyebrow. Before she could ask what had happened, she followed Aditi's gaze and saw the reason behind her smile.

“RAJKUMAR!” Ruchi screamed, her voice filled with excitement as she waved her hand energetically.

(Prince)

Aditi’s eyes widened in surprise, a bit startled by Ruchi’s loud outburst. She glanced at Ruchi, who smirked in response, clearly enjoying Aditi’s reaction.

The man approaching them was Rajkumar Karan Raghuvanshi, the crown prince of the Raghuvanshi dynasty.

At twenty seven, he was handsome, exuding a sharp and powerful presence. His attire was royal—a dhoti paired with a royal blue kurti, a dupatta elegantly draped over his left shoulder.

Jewelry adorned his form, and a sword hung proudly at his waist, symbolizing both his status and the authority he held. Every step he took seemed purposeful, reflecting a man who was driven not only to fulfill his duty to his father but also to ensure his claim to the throne.

As soon as he heard Ruchi’s excited scream, he turned toward the voice. His gaze landed on Aditi, standing there with a shy, nervous smile on her face.

A smile spread across his lips as he walked towards her, his presence magnetic. Noticing the moment between them, Ruchi, understanding the need for privacy, slowly retreated.

Aditi, in contrast to her usual bubbly self, couldn’t help but feel a flutter in her chest. Karan had seen her for the first time several months ago, in the local market when he was in town on personal business.

There, he had first encountered her radiant beauty, and it was enough to capture his attention completely. He had followed her discreetly, discovering she was the princess of the Maheshwari kingdom.

Intrigued, he found himself returning to the village time and again, hoping for a glimpse of her. Most of the time, she never left the Mahal, leaving him heartbroken after each visit.

But whenever she did appear, he would go to great lengths to impress her.

After months of this quiet obsession, Aditi had finally fallen for him. Overwhelmed by his feelings, Karan didn’t hesitate to approach her parents and ask for her hand in marriage.

To his surprise, her parents agreed without question. While he found their ease a bit strange, he paid it no mind, too consumed by his happiness. Now, the two were officially engaged, and nothing seemed more perfect to him.

When Karan reached Aditi, he spread his arms, eager to pull her into a warm embrace. But to his surprise, Aditi stepped back, her smile faltering slightly.

“Kya hua?” Karan asked softly, his voice confused but laced with concern. 

(What’s wrong?)

Aditi looked up at him, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks. “Vo.. hum aise gale nahi lag sakte.” She whispered, reminding him gently of the reason.

(Um.. we can't hug like this.)

It wasn’t that she was shy or reluctant to be close to him. In fact, Aditi had always been a bubbly and affectionate person. But her mother’s strict words echoed in her mind:

'Kabhi bhi apne pati ko naam se na bulana.'

(Never call your husband by his name.) 

'Sabke samne, apne pati se zyada chipakna nahi.'

(Don’t stick with your husband in front of others.)

The memory of her mother's teachings always rang clear in her mind, holding her back from breaking these rules.

Karan sighed softly, the warmth in his eyes softening as he recalled her mother’s stern instructions. He took a small step back, his smile still present but more subdued.

“Waise aap yaha kya kar rahe hai?” Aditi asked, her frown of confusion growing as she tried to make sense of his presence.

(By the way, what are you doing here?)

Karan grinned playfully. “Kuch zaruri chiz lene aur zaruri baat bolne aaye the.” His teasing smile never left his face.

(I came to take care of some important matters and discuss something important.)

Aditi chuckled softly, her voice light and playful. “Zaruri chiz to hum samajh gaye, par.. zaruri baat?” Her tone matched his teasing nature.

(I understand the important thing, but.. what’s the important matter?)

Karan laughed, his eyes twinkling as he looked at her lovingly. “Yaha nahi. Humare saath chaliye, hume ye zaruri baat aapke parivar walon ke saath karni hai.” He winked at her, the mischief in his eyes undeniable.

(Not here. Come with me, I need to discuss this important matter with your family.)

Aditi raised an eyebrow but smiled, knowing full well what he meant. She nodded, still chuckling.

“Theek hai, aapko hume saath le chalna hai toh... chalein?”

(Okay, you want me to come with you then.. let's go?)

Karan, satisfied with her response, motioned for her to walk with him toward the Mahal. As they began walking side by side, the conversation between them continued, filled with playful exchanges and shared smiles.

The two of them, engaged in a delicate balance of love and tradition, walked towards a future that would be shaped by both passion and duty.

As they walked inside the Mahal, the air around them seemed charged with anticipation, the sound of their footsteps the only noise breaking the silence.

───※ To be continued ※───