20) Chapter

The soft glow of lanterns flickered through the Queens palace as the night stretches on.

In a private chamber adorned with rich tapestries and cushions, Pramila sat with her maids.

She leans back against the cushions, absently running her fingers over the delicate embroidery of her clothes , though her thoughts were far from the lighthearted talks around her.

It had been weeks since Dhananjaya, Ereya's closest companion, had returned from the campaign of narmada valley. She had always known him as a loyal commander, a man of unwavering courage and sharp intellect, but something had shifted recently. His presence lingered in her thoughts more than she cared to admit. She found herself replaying the conversations they'd shared, the way his eyes softened when he spoke to her, how he seemed to truly see her.

Pramila's maids noticed her distraction. One of them, a girl named Kalindi, giggled softly. "My queen, your cheeks are flushed. Are you thinking of Prince Ereya?"

The question made Pramila flinch. She quickly shook her head, her voice sharp. "No. Focus on your work."

Kalindi and the others exchanged knowing looks but obeyed. Pramila closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She wasn't thinking of Ereya. She hadn't thought of her husband with this kind of longing for months. Ereya had always been distant, preoccupied with battles and strategy, his affection for her more dutiful than genuine. She had accepted that her place in his life was as a queen, not a beloved. But this man...

"Why does my heart race when I think of him? Why does the mere mention of his name make my skin burn with something I can't explain?"

"Oh Kanna ..Why does he make me feel this way? Why does his praise... his presence feel like a sin?"

"What am I doing? This feeling is wrong... so wrong. I'm betraying  my husband, even if he does not love me. I cannot let this... this desire grow. It is a curse. Oh god.... A weakness that could destroy everything"

Her thoughts betrayed her, and her heart ached with guilt. She knew it was wrong to feel this way. Dhananjaya was Ereya's brother in arms, a man who had sworn loyalty to her husband. Yet, there was a warmth in his gaze, a quiet reassurance in his presence that made her feel seen, valued, even cherished in a way she had never felt with Ereya.

"I am a sinner," she whispered under her breath, her voice trembling. "How could I even think such thoughts? He is not mine to feel for."

The maids paused, looking at her with concern. "My queen, is something troubling you?" Kalindi asked hesitantly.

Pramila forced a smile, though her heart was breaking under the weight of her emotions. "No, nothing. I am only tired."

But tired wasn't the word. She was tormented, caught between duty and a longing she couldn't suppress. She had been raised to honor her role, to be a dutiful wife and queen, and yet here she was, her thoughts consumed by a man who was not her husband.

"What is wrong with me?" she murmured. "He has done nothing improper, nothing to encourage these feelings. It is I who have let my heart stray."

But her thoughts were abruptly disturbed by the sound of her maids' giggles and playful whispers.

"Devi, I heard from the servants that Sir Dananjaya is quite the sight. I had no idea he would be so handsome." Kalini suddenly giggled as she brushed Pramila's hair.

"Handsome? He's more than that! He's like a warrior out of the old stories—tall, strong, and his eyes..." Another maid sighed dramatically  "...anyone could drown in them."

"You all are too kind to him. He's a soldier. His strength is in his loyalty, not in his looks."pramila spelled with a soft smile.

"Did you see the way he looked at you, Devi? It's as if his eyes can't stop admiring you. I can't blame him. How could anyone not be captivated by your beauty devi?" Kalindi spelled with a light giggle.

"He must have lost himself in your gaze. crown prince's friend, and still he looks at you like..." the second maid pauses, grinning mischievously  "like your are the only woman in the world Devi."

"Enough, both of you. You are speaking of things that are unholy and sinful. I am married to the your crowm prince, remember? I beg of you, don't indulge in such talk." Pramila said smiling but shaking her head, trying to remain composed.

"Apologies, Devi. We forget ourselves sometimes. You are so perfect, even the most noble of men can't help but notice you." Kalindi spelled with a sly grin.

Pramila laughs softly, her face glowing with warmth as she ties her payal  (the small, delicate anklet) around her ankle.

Just as the her laught dies down, the sound of footsteps approaches. A voice from outside called out.

"Commander Dananjaya, and lord Anantha, have arrived devi!" A servant spelled.

The doors to the room open, and Dananjaya enters, followed by Anantha. Dananjaya stood tall and regal in his warrior's attire, his eyes scanned the room.

As soon as his gaze lands on Pramila, she was in the middle of tying her payal, and the sight of her makes his breath caught for just a moment.

The moment she noticed him, she instinctively covered her face with her veil, a shy but graceful movement. Her heart raced, as she felt the heat rising in her cheeks.

"Devi, forgive me for interrupting. I've come to make sure everything is well here in the palace." Dananjaya said noticing her shy gesture, his was voice soft but carried a gentle reverence.

His gaze lingered on her, even though he tried to hide it behind his composed demeanor. Pramila, tried to maintain her dignity, turned away slightly.

The maids, sensed the shift in the atmosphere, fell silent and leaved the room.

"An Apsara's beauty cannot be hidden, even behind a veil." Dananjaya spelled with a smile his was voice almost like a whisper, but loud enough for Pramilas ears.

He steps closer, with a gaze filled with admiration.

"I didn't realize you were a poet,  Sir Dananjaya. You are too good at flattering." Pramilas spelled with a sharp smile looking at him straightly.

"I cannot help it, Devi. When I first laid eyes upon you, I felt as though I was seeing the moonrise for the first time. A beauty that is timeless, unearthly."

Dananjaya spelled while smiling, his voice became more confident, like a man who has been charmed by a poem.

"You make it sound like I've descended from the heavens, Sir. Your words are far too kind." Pramila said laughing, though there was gentle teasing in her voice.

"Not kind, Devi. True. Your radiance outshines any star in the sky. Even if I searched a thousand lifetimes, I would never find someone so... perfect." Dananjaya spelled quietly.

Pramila looks down for a moment, her fingers brushed the fabric of her veil as if tried to steady her racing heart.

She knew she should laugh it off, but there was something in the way Dananjaya spoke that made her heart flutter in a way she cannot control.

"You speak like a man in love with the idea of beauty, not the person behind it. But words are just words, Sir Dananjaya. What is true beauty if not in a person's actions, their heart?" Pramila spelled softly, as if lost in thoughts.

Then there was a momment of silence.

"Then let me prove it to you, My highness. I would fight the heavens themselves to protect what is this...precious." Dananjaya whispered with a smile.

His eyes, intense with unspoken desire, met hers. Pramila felt a strange mix of warmth and guilt rised within her.

She knew this connection was forbidden. Her body belonged to the Ereya, bound by duty and destiny—but her heart, defiant and unyielding, had been stolen by another.

"You are kind, Sir. But I am married to the Ereya. My heart... my loyalty lies with him."She whispered slowly.

Dananjaya's heart clenched at her words, but he didnt looked away. His feelings for her, although unspoken, were clear in the way he gazed at her.

"I know, my lady. But sometimes the heart is an untrustworthy thing. It beats for what it cannot have." Dananjaya spelled softly, almost to himself.

Before either can say anything more, a figure from the corner of the room cleared his throat. It was Anantha, who has been observing their conversation silently.

His eyes were dark, narrowed, as he watches the subtle, unspoken connection between Pramila and Dananjaya. A bitter feeling start to stirs within him.

"It seems the air in the palace is... quite thick with flattery tonight. Perhaps we should remember our duties, rather than indulging in poetry and compliments. Dont we Dananjaya?"Anantha spelled coldly, with a forced smile.

The tension in the room was palpable as Pramila looked up, startled by Anantha's tone.

Dananjaya, sensed the shift, straightens himself, pushed his feelings aside to focus on his duty.

"Sure my lord. Lets get move... God bless you devi!" Dananjaya spelled in hurry trying to mask his feelings and he turned to leave.

Ereya's cousin Anantha's eyes lingered on Pramila for a moment longer, his expression harden as he turned to leave.

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Down the palace's dim corridors, Dananjaya walked beside Anantha, the silence between them brimming with tension. The soft echo of their footsteps was the only sound until Anantha, his voice low and cutting, finally broke the quiet.

"You're bold, Dananjaya," he said, his words sharp enough to draw blood. "To speak to the queen as you did. Were it anyone else, I might have questioned their loyalty to the crown prince."

Dananjaya stopped mid-stride, turning to face Anantha. His jaw clenched, but his voice was steady. "My loyalty to Ereya is absolute," he replied, each word precise and deliberate. "I would give my life for him without hesitation."

Anantha's dark eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable, though a trace of disdain flickered across his face. "Then let me offer you some advice, my friend," he said, his tone dripping with condescension. "If your loyalty truly lies with Ereya, guard both your tongue and your heart. The queen is not yours to admire, no matter how innocent your intentions."

Dananjaya's face remained impassive, but his hands curled into fists at his sides. He nodded curtly and resumed walking, his footsteps measured and heavy with restraint. Anantha watched him for a moment longer, his gaze unreadable before following in silence. The storm within the palace, though quiet, was far from over.