38) Chapter

After Dananjaya had left, silence lingered in the room. Pramila turned towards Ereya, her hands clasped together, steadying herself. Ereya, seated and still, looked at her with a softness she wasn't used to. His armor clinked faintly as he shifted, drawing a deep breath before speaking.

"Pramila," he began, his voice low, almost hesitant, "when I heard about the attack, my heart stopped. I thought..." He paused, his words faltering. "I thought I might have lost you."

She studied him, her heart softening at the rare vulnerability in his tone. "But you didn't," she said gently, moving closer. "I'm still here, my lord. Thanks to your men—and Sir Dananjaya."

At the mention of Dananjaya, Ereya's lips pressed into a thin line, though he quickly masked it with a faint smile. "Dananjaya," he repeated lightly, leaning back slightly. "He seems to be... everywhere these days."

Pramila's pulse quickened. Her mind flashed to Dananjaya bursting through the doors of her chambers, his fierce eyes scanning the chaos before meeting hers. The memory made her heart race, but not in the way Ereya might expect. She clasped her hands tightly to keep them from trembling.

"Y-yes," she said, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "He's... always been loyal to you. And to the royal family."

Ereya tilted his head, watching her closely. "Ministers told me how he fought to protect you. Risked his life many times to make sure you were safe. It's admirable... don't you think?"

Pramila forced a smile, though her voice wavered. "He did what any commander would do," she said quickly. "For his queen."

Ereya raised an eyebrow, his tone casual yet pointed. "For his queen, or for you?"

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, her composure faltered. "What do you mean by that my lord?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Nothing," Ereya replied, his tone softening. "I just find it interesting how protective my friend, seems to be when it comes to you. That's all."

Pramila turned her head away, pretending to adjust her shawl as her mind raced. Was Ereya suspicious? Had he noticed something in Dananjaya's gaze? In her own? She swallowed hard, willing herself to stay calm.

Ereya seemed to sense her discomfort and changed the subject. "Were you scared during the attack?" he asked, his tone gentler now.

Pramila took a moment to steady herself before replying. "Terrified," she admitted. "The screams, the chaos... I thought..." She faltered, her voice trembling. "I thought it might be the end."

Ereya's expression softened, and he reached out, his hand resting lightly over hers. "You should never have had to face that," he said quietly. "I'm so sorry, Pramila."

She met his gaze, her panic easing slightly at the sincerity in his tone. "You're here now," she said softly. "That's what matters."

Ereya nodded, his lips curving into a faint smile. Slowly, he reached for the clasps of his armor, his movements deliberate. "Let me take this off," he said. "I don't want anything between us tonight."

Pramila rose, placing her hands over his as she helped him undo the heavy armor. Her touch was careful, almost reverent, as she set the pieces aside. "There," she said with a small smile, her voice lighter now. "Much better. Sit. Rest."

Ereya chuckled softly, the sound rare and warm. "You're the only person in this world who could command me so effortlessly," he teased. But he complied, settling back into the cushions.

As they talked about the attack, the kingdom, and fragments of memories they had shared, the tension slowly faded away. Pramila leaned towards him, her head resting lightly against his shoulder.

For a moment, Ereya froze, unaccustomed to such tenderness. But then, he wrapped an arm around her, his movements tentative but sincere.

"I was worried," she said quietly. "I didn't know if you would return."

Ereya's heart softened, and he gently took her hand in his. "I would never leave you behind, Pramila. Even if I don't always show it, you are mine. My responsibility. And I'll always come back, no matter the distance, no matter the danger."

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his, her face was a mix of confusion.

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The morning sun was warm as it filtered through the trees of the Buddhist village. A sudden stir swept through the quiet settlement when a royal palanquin, flanked by guards and soldiers, entered the village.

Its gold-encrusted frame and the guards' polished armor gleamed in the sunlight, drawing curious stares and hushed whispers from the villagers.

Mothers pulled their children closer, while the men speculated about the identity of the noble or royal figure for whom the palanquin was intended.

Sanjaya dismounted his horse with the calm authority of someone accustomed to commanding respect. His sharp eyes scanned the crowd, and he called out, "Who among you is Madhavi?"

The villagers exchanged glances, their curiosity piqued. A few pointed toward a modest hut near the edge of the village. "She lives there," someone murmured.

Sanjaya approached the hut with measured steps, and an elderly woman opened the door, her face etched with both surprise and concern. "What is the meaning of this Sir?" she asked, glancing past him at the palanquin and the armed men.

"Forgive the intrusion, Thayii (Mother) ," Sanjaya said with a respectful bow. "We are looking for Madhavi. Where is she?"

The old woman hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Madhavi has gone to the river to fetch water. But..why are you looking for her?"

Sanjaya bowed again but did not offer further explanation. Instead, he turned sharply on his heel and motioned to his men. They followed him into the forest, moving swiftly toward the river.

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Near the riverbank, Madhavi was crouched gracefully, filling her clay pot with water. Her figure, wrapped in simple robes, blended with the serene beauty of the landscape. She hummed a soft melody, her movements unhurried as the water gurgled around her feet.

Sanjaya stopped in his tracks when he saw her. Even in her simplicity, she carried an aura of natural grace that made him understand why Ereya had been so captivated by her. He signaled his men to remain behind as he approached her cautiously.

Hearing footsteps, Madhavi turned, her eyes widening when she saw the soldier in his formal attire. The clay pot slipped from her hands and shattered on the rocks, her nervousness overtaking her.

"You Sir? What are you doing here?" she asked, stepping back instinctively. Her voice wavered as she took in his royal insignias and the men in the distance.

Sanjaya bowed slightly to reassure her. "Lady Madhavi, I come on behalf of His Highness, Prince Ereya, the crown prince of the Chalukyan Empire."

Madhavi froze, the words striking her like a thunderclap. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out.

The gentle man who had held her in the cave, who had spoken to her with such tenderness, was the crown prince of a great Chalukya empire?

She had assumed him to be a royal, perhaps a son of minister of high standing, but this—this was far beyond what she had imagined.

Seeing her confusion, Sanjaya softened his tone. "Do not be afraid, my lady. Crown prince has asked me to escort you to his camp. He wishes for you to come. Please, do not delay."

"But..." she began, her voice barely a whisper. She took a step back, her mind spinning.

"Why? Why would the prince send that .. for someone like me?"She said looking at the golden palaquin.

Sanjaya held her gaze with quiet respect. "Because I think you are important to him, my lady. That is all I can say. Please, come with me. The prince awaits."

Madhavi looked down, her hands trembling. The memories of the night in the cave flooded her mind—Ereya's gentle words, his passion, the promise in his touch.

But she could not reconcile that man with the image of a crown prince. Her humble life in the village, her identity as an orphan—how could she belong in his royal world?

Still, the earnestness in Sanjaya's tone and the thought of Ereya made her nod, albeit hesitantly.

Sanjaya gave a respectful bow. "Thank you, my lady." He gestured for one of the guards to bring the palanquin closer.

As the palanquin arrived, Madhavi stepped into it with some hesitation. She glanced back toward the river, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions.

The villagers, who had gathered at a distance, watched in stunned silence as the mysterious young woman they knew only as "Madhavi" was escorted away in royal splendor.

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In the morning, the soft glow of sunlight filtered through the intricately designed windows of Pramila's chambers.

The maids were quietly decorating the room, placing fragrant flowers in delicate vases and burning incense that sent soft curls of smoke wafting through the air, filling it with a calming aroma.

The gentle hum of their work was soothing, but the atmosphere carried an air of reverence.

Ereya stirred in the bed, the rustle of sheets drawing the attention of the maids. They exchanged quick glances before bowing respectfully and retreating a little to give the crown prince space.

A silver tray with an assortment of breakfast delicacies had been placed beside him. He reached for it absentmindedly, but before he could take a bite, the door creaked open.

The sound of soft anklets preceded Pramila's entrance. She stepped in, draped in a flowing sari that shimmered in the light, her hair adorned with fresh flowers.

Her expression brightened when she saw Ereya awake, and a soft smile curved her lips.

"You're awake," she greeted him warmly, moving gracefully to the bed.

Ereya sat up, his hair slightly disheveled but his presence still commanding. He nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips as she took the plate of breakfast and sat beside him.

"Good morning," he said, his voice still rough with sleep. He looked around the room, taking in the serene yet lively atmosphere. "Did I sleep here... all night?"

"What do you think?" she teased, handing him a small plate of fruit. "Maybe you did, or maybe you just dreamed it."

Ereya chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're impossible, Pramila."

"And you?" he asked, studying her face. "Did you sleep well?"

Pramila hesitated for a moment, her smile faltering ever so slightly. She nodded, her gaze dipping to the tray of food. "Yes," she replied softly. "I did."

There was a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes—a fleeting shadow of doubt, or perhaps confusion.

She quickly masked it, lifting the tray and placing it in front of him. "Here, your breakfast," she said, her tone brightening. "You must have something before you go."

Ereya watched her as she picked up a piece of fruit and held it out to him. Her movements were playful yet careful, as if she was testing boundaries. "You'll feed me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Pramila smiled demurely, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "If you permits, my lord" she replied, lowering her eyes.

Ereya chuckled, leaning forward to take the bite from her fingers. "How could I refuse?" he said, his voice warm.

As she fed him, her movements were graceful but restrained. She kept a slight distance, her shyness evident in the way she avoided his gaze for too long.

Yet her playful wit shone through in the way she teased him, offering him morsels and pulling them away at the last second. Ereya played along, his own mood lighter than it had been in days.

Despite the laughter, a quiet tension lingered in Pramila's heart. Her thoughts drifted to Danajaya—his fierce protection during the attack, the way his gaze lingered just a moment too long.

She was torn between the duties of her position and the flicker of something she couldn't quite name. But she knew her responsibility, and she kept her focus on Ereya, her husband and the crown prince.

Ereya noticed her brief moments of distraction and leaned closer, his tone softening. "Pramila," he said, his voice drawing her attention back to him. "You seem... distant. Is everything alright?"

Pramila hesitated, then offered him a small smile. "Everything is fine, my lord," she said quietly. "Just the remnants of a chaotic night."

Ereya studied her for a moment, then reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You've been through much," he said. "But I'm here now. And I won't let anything happen to you."

Pramila lowered her gaze, her heart conflicted but grateful for his words but managed a smile.

Ereya finished his meal and stood, stretching before adjusting his attire. "I must go," he said, his tone shifting to one of duty. "The emperor awaits me, and there's much to discuss."

Pramila rose gracefully, bowing her head slightly. "Of course, my lord," she said. "May your meeting be fruitful."

Ereya smiled at her, a rare expression of warmth. "Take care, Pramila," he said before turning to leave.

As the door closed behind him, Pramila stood in the center of the room with thoughts of a whirlwind.