The atmosphere in the royal dining hall was tranquil and pleasant. The family—Viddhi, Vidhaan, Chacha Veervar Singh, and Arjun—were seated together for their evening meal. The soft clinking of silverware and the low murmur of conversation filled the room. For a fleeting moment, the scene felt deceptively normal, a picture of domestic harmony that Viddhi knew was a carefully constructed illusion.
Then, it happened with terrifying suddenness. A sharp, whistling sound cut through the calm. An arrow, shot from the darkness outside, shattered a window pane and sped into the room, its trajectory aimed unerringly at Raja Vidhaan's heart. Everything unfolded in a split second, too fast for anyone to process.
But Viddhi's body moved before her mind could command it. It was a primal, instinctual reaction. In one fluid motion, she snatched the heavy, metal thali from in front of her and flung it directly into the arrow's path. The sharp clang of metal on metal echoed through the hall as the thali deflected the deadly projectile, sending it clattering harmlessly to the marble floor.
"Attack! We are under attack!" Chacha Veervar Singh roared, surging to his feet.
Guards swarmed into the room, their weapons drawn. But Vidhaan's attention wasn't on the threat. His gaze was locked on Viddhi. His eyes, wide with shock, held a tumultuous mix of utter disbelief and profound, overwhelming gratitude.
"Maharani!" he exclaimed, his voice thick with concern as he rushed to her side. "Are you alright? You're not hurt?"
Viddhi, her own heart hammering from the adrenaline, merely nodded, her voice a shaky whisper. "Yes, Maharaj. I am fine."
Chacha Veervar Singh was already barking orders at the guards. "Find who did this! Now! The Maharaj's life is in danger! Seal the palace grounds!"
: Viddhi's Inner Turmoil
Back in the sanctuary of her chamber, the adrenaline faded, leaving behind a storm of confusion and self-recrimination. Viddhi paced the room, her mind replaying the moment in slow, torturous detail.
'Why did I save him? He is my enemy! The murderer of my family!' The thought screamed in her head. 'My hands moved on their own. What does that mean?'
She grappled with the terrifying implication. 'Have I started to... care for him? No... that is impossible. It cannot be.'
Desperate for a rational explanation, she clutched at a more palatable truth. 'I saved him so that he would die by my hands alone. I will be the one to deliver the final blow. His life is mine to take, not some anonymous assassin's.'
But another, more practical worry surfaced. 'Who launched that attack? Was it Veer Bhaiya's allies? Have they discovered I am here? Will they ruin my carefully laid plans by acting too soon?'
: Gratitude and a Promise
A soft knock interrupted her spiraling thoughts. The door opened to reveal Raja Vidhaan. The usual authority in his posture was softened by a deep, unmistakable emotion. His eyes, as they met hers, were filled with a gratitude so raw it was disarming.
"Maharani," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "Today, you saved my life. You acted without a moment's hesitation. I will be in your debt forever."
Viddhi bowed her head humbly, her performance flawless. "Maharaj, it was merely my duty as your queen." She kept her voice soft, her gaze modestly averted.
"No," he countered, stepping closer. "That was not mere duty. That was instinct. It came from here," he said, placing a hand over his own heart. "Today, you may ask me for anything—anything in my power to give—and it shall be yours."
This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. A chance to buy time, to create a shield. She thought quickly, crafting her request with precision.
"Maharaj," she said, letting her voice tremble slightly with a feigned vulnerability. "As you know, I was unconscious for a full year. My inner strength... my spirit... it is still fragile. I wish... I wish that until I feel truly strong, until I can come to you willingly and with a whole heart, you would grant me time. That you would not... press your affections upon me."
Vidhaan was taken aback, then a slow, understanding smile spread across his face. It was not a smile of disappointment, but of profound respect. "Maharani," he said, his voice filled with awe, "You ask me for nothing for yourself, and when you finally do, it is this? You ask not for jewels or power, but for the sanctity of your own heart's pace. Very well. It shall be as you wish. You have my word."
: A Smiling Truce and a Hidden Victory
Vidhaan left the room, his smile lingering. Viddhi watched him go, noting that his expression held no trace of anger or frustration, only respect and a deepened admiration.
A slow, triumphant smile touched Viddhi's own lips as the door closed. 'Now I have bought myself more time. Precious time to find Veer Bhaiya. Time to uncover Vidhaan's weaknesses without the complication of his physical advances.'
Yet, a treacherous corner of her heart whispered, 'See? He respects you. He listens. Perhaps he is not the monster you believe him to be. Perhaps there is genuine goodness in him.'
Viddhi forcefully silenced the voice, shoving the thought into the deepest recesses of her mind. 'No. I cannot afford to be swayed. I cannot fall into this trap of illusion. I must keep my focus on the goal.'
She had not only saved Vidhaan's life today but had also secured a vital advantage for her own mission. Yet, the act of saving him had planted a seed of internal conflict that threatened to grow into a vine that could choke her resolve.
: Later that night, as a light rain began to fall, a small, wet pebble tied with a familiar red thread landed silently on her balcony. It was the same type of thread she and Veer used to tie around messages as children. Her heart leaped. Cautiously, she picked it up and unrolled the tiny, waterproofed parchment wrapped around it. The message was brief, written in a code only they would understand: "The arrow was not ours. A third player has entered the game. Trust no one. The walls have more ears than you know. - V" The game was far more dangerous than she had imagined. She wasn't just caught between her revenge and her target; she was now a pawn in a much larger, unseen conflict.