"⚠️ Warning: Spicy scenes ahead! Proceed with caution, maybe grab a cold drink or a fan – things are about to get extra heated! 😏🔥 If you're uncomfortable, feel free to skip this paragraph but yeah there is twist in this chapter – no judgment, just chill!"
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Anya stood before the mirror, adjusting her saree for what felt like the hundredth time. She had chosen his favorite color—a deep, royal blue that complimented her skin perfectly. The fabric clung to her curves in all the right ways, and she smiled at her reflection, feeling confident and beautiful. “Tonight is going to be special,” she whispered to herself, excitement bubbling inside her.

She was sitting on the bed, waiting eagerly when the door finally creaked open. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Duryodhan step into the room, his eyes immediately finding hers.

“Oh, you came, husband!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement as she sat up straighter, almost bouncing with enthusiasm.

Duryodhan paused, taking in the sight of her. She was glowing—wrapped in his favorite color, eyes bright with excitement, her body practically trembling with energy. A slow smile spread across his face as he approached her. “You’re really something else, Anya,” he said, his deep voice filled with amusement and affection.

Anya grinned, her excitement impossible to hide. “Something else? I’ll take that as a compliment,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. But as Duryodhan came closer, his gaze soft and warm, her heart began to race for a different reason.

He stopped just inches from her, his hand reaching out to gently cup her cheek. His thumb brushed over her skin, lingering there for a moment before it moved down to trace the outline of her lips. Anya’s breath caught in her throat, and for the first time that night, she felt a nervous flutter in her stomach.

“You look stunning,” Duryodhan whispered, his voice low and filled with desire.

Anya felt her cheeks flush as she looked up at him through her lashes. “I’m glad you like it,” she whispered back, her voice soft.

“I like more than just the saree,” he murmured, his lips hovering over hers, the warmth of his breath making her shiver.

Her heart hammered in her chest as he leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a deep, slow kiss. Anya melted into him, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as she pulled him closer. His hands moved to her waist, gripping her gently but firmly, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

Duryodhan broke the kiss for a moment, his eyes dark and filled with want. “Are you really this excited?” he asked, his voice husky.

Anya bit her lip, her playful grin returning. “Why wouldn’t I be? This is... new,” she teased, her voice light and teasing, but the tremor in it gave her away. She was excited—more than she had ever been before. “You’re not nervous, are you?” she added, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Duryodhan smirked, his hand sliding from her waist to the small of her back, pulling her against him. “I should be asking you that,” he whispered in her ear, his lips grazing her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

Her response came in the form of a breathless laugh as he started unwrapping her saree, his fingers deftly working the fabric until it fell away, pooling at her feet. The cool air against her exposed skin made her gasp, but Duryodhan’s hands were there, warm and strong, guiding her gently down onto the bed.

He kissed her again, harder this time, his lips demanding as his hands roamed her body, exploring every curve, every inch of her skin. Anya’s breath hitched as she felt his touch, her body responding to him with a desire she hadn’t realized she had.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, as if she couldn’t get enough of him. “Duryodhan...” she whispered breathlessly, her voice trembling as he kissed his way down her neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.

“Hm?” he murmured against her skin, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below her ear.

“I thought you’d be the nervous one,” she teased, her voice shaky but still filled with that playful tone.

He laughed softly, his lips trailing lower. “Oh, trust me, I’m not nervous. In fact, I’m enjoying this way more than I thought,” he whispered, his voice deep and filled with want.

Anya’s hands roamed over his back, feeling the muscles tense under her touch as he pressed against her, his body firm and warm. She gasped softly, her mind spinning as he kissed his way lower, his hands following the path of his lips. The sensation of his touch sent waves of pleasure through her body, and she arched her back, her fingers tightening their grip on his shoulders.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his lips now at her collarbone, sending shivers down her spine.

Anya’s heart swelled, her breath catching in her throat. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She felt an overwhelming rush of affection and desire for him, her body completely surrendering to his touch.

Duryodhan’s hands slid lower, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he was exploring her body for the first time, savoring every moment. Anya’s breath quickened, her body reacting to him instinctively, her mind lost in the sensations he was creating. She felt as if they were the only two people in the world, and nothing else mattered but this moment.

Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, a dance of passion and love that left them both breathless. Duryodhan’s touch was everywhere, his lips never leaving her skin, his voice low and filled with desire as he whispered her name.

Anya gasped, her fingers curling into the sheets as the intensity between them grew. She felt like she was on the edge of something, her body trembling with anticipation, and when they finally came together, it was like nothing she had ever felt before.

The world around them disappeared as they lost themselves in each other, their love and desire intertwining in a way that was both passionate and tender. And when it was over, they lay together, their bodies tangled, their hearts beating as one.

Duryodhan held her close, his hand gently caressing her bare back as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Anya smiled, feeling more content than she ever had before.

“See? Told you I was ready,” she whispered, her voice drowsy but still filled with that playful tone.

Duryodhan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “You were more than ready,” he murmured, his voice filled with affection.

Anya snuggled into his chest, closing her eyes with a satisfied sigh. “Well, get used to it, husband. This won’t be the last night like this,” she whispered with a sleepy grin.

Duryodhan smiled, his hand lazily tracing circles on her back. “I’m counting on it,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with promise.

And as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, the warmth of their love filled the room, leaving only the sound of their shared breaths to break the silence of the night.

Shakuni’s POV,

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As Shakuni stood by the balcony, gazing out at the darkened sky, his mind raced with thoughts. The cool breeze of the night did little to calm his rising frustration. Somewhere within the grand halls of the palace, his nephew, Duryodhan, was caught in a world of his own. Shakuni’s sharp eyes had not missed the changes in Duryodhan’s behavior. His once fierce and focused nephew now seemed... careless, distracted.

He’s drowning in love, Shakuni thought, his lips curling in discontent.

Duryodhan had always been a man of ambition, driven by power and dominance. But now, since Anya had entered his life, Shakuni noticed how his nephew had begun to act differently. The sharp edge in him was dulled. His thoughts, once consumed by strategies and alliances, were now preoccupied with his wife. He would chuckle at her antics, smile more often, and spend nights locked away with her instead of planning the kingdom’s future.

Shakuni’s fingers drummed restlessly on the marble railing. He knew Duryodhan was strong and capable, but love—love had a way of making even the most powerful men weak.

Carefree. That’s what he was becoming, carefree in his love for Anya.

Shakuni’s brow furrowed as he thought of the kingdom. There were enemies everywhere, waiting for any sign of weakness, ready to take advantage of any vulnerability. And here was Duryodhan, distracted by a woman, too wrapped up in his personal happiness to see the larger picture.

He isn’t understanding the importance of an alliance. The thought gnawed at him.

As much as he appreciated Anya’s loyalty to Duryodhan, she did nothing to strengthen their political standing. The world beyond their palace walls was changing, shifting, and if they were to secure their dominance, they needed powerful allies. Powerful families to stand beside them in times of war, to offer their wealth and armies. An alliance through marriage—that was the key to ensuring their power remained untouchable.

Shakuni’s eyes narrowed in determination. If Duryodhan won’t see reason, then I will have to act.

He paced back and forth, his mind already working on a solution. There was a kingdom that had been on his radar for a long time—Kalinga. A kingdom with strong armies and vast resources. More importantly, it had one valuable asset: a princess.

Princess of Kalinga. The only daughter of King Kalinga, young, beautiful, and unattached. She would be the perfect match for Duryodhan. An alliance with Kalinga would cement their power, creating an unbreakable bond between their kingdoms. Together, they would be unstoppable.

A slow, calculated smile spread across Shakuni’s face. Yes, this is what must be done.

All he needed was to set the wheels in motion. Duryodhan might be too blinded by love to understand the gravity of the situation, but Shakuni wasn’t. He had always been the one to think ten steps ahead, to anticipate the needs of the kingdom long before others even realized what was necessary.

I only need to write a letter to King Kalinga about this alliance.

His decision was made. He would propose the marriage himself, ensuring Duryodhan’s place as the most powerful ruler of their time. Love had its place, but politics—politics was the real game that ruled the world. And Shakuni was a master of it.

He moved swiftly to his chambers, the moonlight casting long shadows in the dimly lit corridors. As he sat at his writing desk, his hands moved gracefully across the parchment, crafting the words that would shape their future. His quill dipped into the ink, and the first line of the letter appeared.

“Your Majesty, King Kalinga, I write to propose an alliance...”

Shakuni’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as the words flowed. He knew the King would not refuse—this offer was too tempting, too perfect. And once the letter reached Kalinga, the wheels would begin to turn.

Duryodhan would soon realize what had been done, but by then it would be too late. The alliance would be sealed, and he would have no choice but to accept the new path laid out for him.

Anya might have his heart for now, but Shakuni would ensure that Duryodhan’s loyalty lay where it truly belonged—with the kingdom and its future. And if that meant marrying him off to another princess, so be it.

As he sealed the letter with the royal crest, Shakuni leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

The game has just begun.

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