III

The morning sun cast a golden glow over Mahishmati, and as I stepped onto the balcony, I couldn't help but marvel at the day's warmth. Devasena and Baahubali had left early with Kattappa to visit the temple, leaving a note explaining they hadn't wanted to wake me. Smiling at Devasena's thoughtfulness, I gazed at the sunlit kingdom stretched before me, the grandeur and beauty somehow more vivid than even the films I'd watched back in my world. How could this be fictional when I was living it?

Also, my heart string tugged at the images of the last few days; Bhallaldeva has been crowned as a King, and to witness such a grand scene in front of me made me feel out of the world; this time, I am not viewing it outside of the screen, but I sat next to Devasena and watched the whole ordeal, the way people wanted Baahibali but yet the Crown passed to Bhalla who has his arrogant smirk on his face all the way the end but yet whenever his eyes met mine it held something else which I am not able to put the finger on.

I shook my head, returned to the present, and gathered myself to meet them at the temple or perhaps ready myself for their return; something caught my eye—a pond just across the grounds. It sparkled invitingly, and before I knew it, Quickly, I slipped into a simple white cloth that hugged my form modestly, and without hesitation, I slipped into the cool water. The feeling was pure bliss. The water enveloped me, washing away any lingering doubts and fears, leaving me refreshed and weightless. My mind felt as clear as the sky above, my worries sinking below the surface. Here, in this hidden pond, life didn't feel complicated. Just simple, beautiful, and strangely... peaceful.

But reality has its way of reminding us of its presence.

As I began to leave the pond, I stepped onto a mossy stone and felt my foot slip. My arms flailed, bracing for the cold plunge back into the water when a hand grabbed me firmly. I collided with a broad chest, the strength of the arms holding me steady, their warmth sinking into me even as my heart raced. I gasped, regaining my balance, and looked up to thank my saviour.

"Thank you—"

My words trailed off as my gaze met the steely eyes of Bhallaladeva himself, his face barely an inch from mine. The notorious Bhalla, the very man whose gaze alone could command armies, now held me close, his eyes locked onto mine with a piercing intensity that froze me.

It was more than I had expected, more intense than anything I'd prepared for, standing here in the embrace of Mahishmati's most dangerous man. And yet, as Bhallaladeva looked down at me, his gaze softened. I'd only seen his eyes filled with something harsh and calculating, like a storm brewing beneath the surface. But now, in the quiet of this early morning, his expression held a warmth, a flicker of something... else. It was enough to make my heart quicken, even as I tried to keep my composure.

I could feel the cool morning air pricking at my damp skin, sending a shiver down my spine. My soaked form clung to me, and droplets fell from my hair like small streams trailing along my cheeks. I swallowed, trying to steady myself as his eyes trailed over my face, lingering, almost as if he were memorising each detail.

Without a word, his hand moved to tuck a few stray strands behind my ear, his fingers grazing my skin with the lightest touch. I knew I should step back and pull away before anyone caught us, but I felt rooted in place, almost as if his presence had drawn me in like a magnet. Every time I considered retreating, his hand anchored me, his steady gaze holding me captive.

With a surge of unfamiliar anticipation, I realised I didn't want to leave.

As his fingers moved, his thumb traced a delicate path along my jawline, lingering there as his hand settled firmly on my waist. I was acutely aware of how close we were, how his chest was pressed against mine, firm. I could even feel his abs through the thin material, a steady reminder of the power he carried. My heart raced in a way I couldn't control.

"K-King Bhallaladeva..." I managed, though my voice barely sounded like my own.

He only chuckled softly, sounding equal parts amusement and something deeper. His lips turned into a slow, almost indulgent smile as his eyes settled on me again. "You don't need to address me so formally," he murmured, his voice like a warm breeze, his gaze not breaking away.

I felt a strange thrill race through me, my heart hammering as his thumb brushed my skin again as if lingering to prolong the moment. And for now, I couldn't look away.

Unable to say another word, I watched as he finally stepped back, a strange expression in his eyes. But before leaving, he gave me a look that lingered longer than I expected, a look that left a warmth in my chest and a tangle of emotions I wasn't ready to name.

After that unexpected morning encounter with the King, I managed to keep my distance, though some seemed to ache for his warmth. I kept reminding myself that this infatuation had no future. Maybe it was just because Bhallaladeva, or rather Rana, the actor who portrayed him, was undeniably handsome. But then, if it were just about looks, shouldn't I have felt the same around Baahubali? Yet, it was different with him—Baahubali felt like a brother, a friend, someone I could admire but not romantically.

The day passed, and Devasena returned from the temple, glowing with a joy I hadn't seen in her before. It was odd to see her so giggly and blushing—she, who was usually so composed and strong, now seemed wrapped up in the happiness Baahubali brought to her. I suppose that's the power of a man who truly knows his strength. The wedding was set to occur the day after tomorrow, and Devasena wanted me close by her side through it all. I felt honoured and threw myself into making sure every detail was perfect for what felt like a real-life fairytale wedding.

I also made sure to avoid any further encounters with the King. For my peace of mind, I couldn't afford to feel that inexplicable draw to him again. With each passing hour, I busied myself with wedding preparations, arranging flowers, planning decorations, and helping Devasena choose her jewels—anything to keep my mind from wandering back to Bhalla.

Then, the wedding morning arrived. The air was alive with blissful energy, the entire kingdom adorned in celebratory colours, flowers, and lights that cast a warm glow over Mahishmati. I felt surprisingly emotional as I watched Devasena, radiant and fierce, join Baahubali at the altar. When they tied the knot, I saw a love so deep and natural between them that it made me believe in destiny, even for a moment.

For Devasena and Baahubali, this day marked the start of a powerful bond, a partnership as fierce and loyal as they both were. And even as I celebrated with them, my heart tucked away its quiet fluttering, locking away the memory of a morning gaze that I was determined not to revisit.

***

It had been a few days since I'd last managed to escape from Bhallaladeva's presence successfully. All the men, including Baahubali and the King, attended an important council meeting. I decided it was an excellent time to explore the palace grounds while avoiding any run-ins with Mahishmati's so-called "noblemen." Baahubali aside, I wasn't exactly thrilled by the company of most of them. These powerful men carried their authority as an excuse to intimidate and dominate. Sethupathi, Bhallaladeva's obnoxious friend, was the worst of them, with a gaze that made my skin crawl.

Caught up in my thoughts, I stared out over Mahishmati's breathtaking view when a prickling sense of dread crept up my spine. I turned slowly, only to see Sethupathi standing there, smirking, his eyes lingering where they shouldn't.

"What's a flower of Kuntala doing here all alone?" he said, stepping closer. I forced a smile that probably looked as thin as paper. The last thing I wanted was to encourage him, but it was better than showing my genuine disgust.

"Oh, I was just admiring the view. Devasena asked me to meet her, so I should be on my way," I said, attempting to slip past him.

But he sidestepped, blocking my path. "What's the rush? Doesn't the princess's friend know how to be polite?" He grinned with a leering look that made my stomach turn. If not for Baahubali and Devasena, I'd have scratched that smirk off his face by now.

I managed a tight smile. "Oh, I know how to be polite, but I choose not to waste it where it isn't deserved. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Ignoring my hint, he edged even closer. "Why hurry away? We could spend a little time together." The suggestion sent a wave of nausea over me.

"I can't," I replied quickly, stepping back again. But he stayed in my way, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

"Could you move out of my way?" I asked, keeping my voice steady, though I could feel the irritation in my bones. Perhaps I should've been more assertive, but Sethupathi wasn't the type to take 'no' for an answer.

He leaned in, closer than I could bear. "And what if I don't want to?"

Just then, a voice broke through, booming and unmistakable. "Maybe you should leave the lady alone, Sethupathi."

I saw Bhallaladeva standing at a distance, his eyes blazing red like rubies.

Just like that, the repulsive Sethupathi transformed into a model of politeness under Bhallaladeva's sharp gaze. "We were just having a conversation, my King," he stammered, his meek tone making me want to roll my eyes. Baahubali would take care of him in the future anyway, so I let it go.

"Really?" Bhallaladeva's voice was laced with barely concealed menace. "Well, I'd rather you start on the task I assigned you." Sethupathi's face drained of colour as he nodded and scurried off, leaving me with a wave of relief and a small smile of triumph. But just as quickly, I remembered my predicament—alone now with the intense gaze of Mahishmati's powerful, enigmatic King.

His eyes seemed to pierce into my soul, carrying a depth I hadn't anticipated, something more than just authority. I tried to meet his gaze, but a warmth that was comforting and unsettling crept over me. His footsteps drew closer, and I focused intently on the ground, swallowing as my pulse quickened. If I dared to look up, I would be face-to-face with him, close enough to feel his breath. Unlike Sethupathi's repulsive proximity, being near Bhallaladeva stirred something different, a longing I didn't want to admit. My mind flashed to our brief but unforgettable encounter at the pond just days before.

"Won't you look at me?" His low voice sent a tremor through me, and I gasped softly, lips parting as I finally lifted my gaze. His dark brown eyes held mine, softer and more vulnerable than I'd ever seen, spilling over with an inexplicable warmth.

"Th-thank you, King," I whispered, struggling to keep my composure as his eyes drank me in, unwavering.

"It's my pleasure, Nandhini," he replied, my name slipping from his lips like a caress. Heat flooded my cheeks, and his gaze sparkled, noticing the flush on my face. As I stepped back, I felt the wall against my back, effectively trapping me. His hand reached up, fingertips tracing my cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was soft, almost reverent, leaving me breathless.

"My King..." I tried to speak, but my voice was barely audible.

"Look at me." This time, his tone held undeniable authority. "Call me Bhalla. Please."

A small smile tugged at my lips. This softer side of him was unlike anything I had expected, making me see him in an entirely different light. "But you're a king..." I stammered, trying to reason.

He shook his head gently, his thumb grazing my cheekbone, and my stomach twisted at his touch. I was overwhelmed by an inexplicable desire to feel his hands over every inch of me. What was happening to me?

"Okay... if that's what you wish, I'll call you Bhalla." His smile grew, but his gaze held a depth, a longing I couldn't quite place. Something was hidden in his expression, just out of my reach.

"Do you... remember me?" he asked, his voice dropping to an almost pleading tone.

I frowned slightly, trying to understand. "Remember you? What do you mean?"

But before he could answer, a voice echoed down the hallway. Devasena's voice broke the moment, shattering the intimacy that had enveloped us. Panicking, I gently pushed away from Bhalla, stepping aside quickly as I composed myself, not wanting to be seen alone with him.

Still, even as I hurried to meet Devasena, I could feel his gaze on me, lingering, intense, and filled with something I still couldn't name.

***

It had been almost eight months since I'd left Mahishmati and returned to Kuntala. Staying in one place too long felt stifling, especially when a certain someone was there, stirring up emotions I wasn't ready to face. Distance seemed like the best cure—one that would erase any fluttering feelings that had started to surface. Now, though, I was headed back for Devasena's baby shower, travelling with her brother and sister-in-law, trying to convince myself that both Bhalla and I would have forgotten each other by now.

As we arrived, Devasena practically jumped from her seat, a wide grin lighting up her face as she rushed over to embrace me. Over these months, we had exchanged countless letters, staying close despite the distance. Baahubali stood nearby, his warm smile a welcome sight, while Devasena pulled her family members into joyful hugs.

The following day, the palace buzzed with life as everyone gathered to bless the soon-to-be parents, Devasena and Baahubali. Just as the ceremony began, an announcement echoed through the hall, signalling the entrance of Queen Mother Sivagami, King Bhallaladeva, and his father. I had never grown used to the sight of Sivagami Devi, once known to adore Baahubali beyond reason, now carrying herself like a distant stranger. She blessed Devasena but looked at her with barely any warmth, saying, "Be careful, Devasena. You are carrying the kingdom's heir."

I felt a surge of indignation, my stomach twisting at her words. Not Devasena, just the heir. She didn't care about Devasena's well-being; she only cared about the child. I shook off my frustration, not wanting to cause a scene, but the anger only grew as I caught sight of Bhalla, his eyes already fixed on me with a mischievous gleam. His lips curled into a smirk as he took in my form, and I quickly averted my gaze, trying to refocus.

After the blessing, Bhallaladeva congratulated Baahubali with a generous smile. "Brother, take some time to rest. Stay with Devasena until the baby is born. After all, the court can manage without you for a while. I'll make sure everything is taken care of," he said, voice silky, though I could sense the layers of implication beneath his offer.

Baahubali gave a slight nod, and just then, Sethupathi spoke up from his place beside Bhalla. "I'd be honoured to support you in your absence, Baahubali. I know Mahishmati needs its best hands."

My fists clenched, but I kept quiet. My hand rested on Devasena's shoulder as I felt her body tense beside me. Her jaw was set, and her eyes glared daggers at Bhallaladeva and Sethupathi.

"How dare he?" Devasena muttered under her breath as they exited the room. She turned to Baahubali, her voice shaking with anger. "You promised me, Baahu. You promised you'd do anything I asked. Well, now I'm asking you to stand up for yourself, for us. I want you to be King, Baahu!"

Baahubali looked torn, glancing between his wife and brother's retreating figure as if the world's weight rested on his shoulders. "Deva..." he began, his tone gentle, but the words failed him.

"Baahubali," she said firmly, hurt flashing across her face, "I need you to stop bending to others' will. Don't you see what Bhallaladeva is doing? He wants you out of the way so he can take your place!"

Baahubali's head dropped slightly, his silence only making her more agitated. Finally, I placed a hand on her arm, gently squeezing her.

"Come on, Deva," I whispered. "Let's go back to your room for now."

As I led her out, she looked back at Baahubali, disappointment evident in her gaze.

The urge to step in and change everything weighed heavily on me. I knew what would happen next, but I also knew how deeply Baahubali trusted his brother and loved his mother and kingdom. Even if I tried to warn him, would he believe me? His loyalty to his family would blind him to others' true nature.

The next day, Devasena asked me to accompany her to the temple. Memories of this day rushed back—this was the day Sethupathi would overstep his bounds and face Devasena's wrath. Determined to prevent the fallout that would lead to her and Baahubali being cast out, I quickly positioned myself to Devasena's right, leaving her on the left side, away from Sethupathi. If I could keep Sethupathi from trying anything inappropriate, maybe the future could still be salvaged.

As we approached the temple, Sethupathi gestured us out of the unique entrance reserved exclusively for the King. Devasena's eyes narrowed, sensing my frustration, and she nodded, choosing the entrance meant for commoners instead. I walked alongside her, keeping a close eye on Sethupathi. His gaze wandered over other women, and I noticed the casual way he brushed his hand across one woman's back, making my stomach churn with disgust. My lips tightened, but I kept silent, hoping that enduring this would protect Devasena and Baahubali.

I was so focused on controlling my reaction that I didn't notice Devasena's eyes growing dark with anger. She had been watching the entire scene unfold—seeing me tense up and noticing Sethupathi's leering actions toward the women before us. Just as he reached a handout dangerously close to me, Devasena's patience snapped.

In one swift motion, she pushed me behind her, yanking a knife from Sethupathi's belt before I could even react. In a fluid motion, she slashed downward, cutting his fingers clean off. Blood splattered onto the temple steps, and Sethupathi's scream filled the air.

"Deva, stop!" I shouted, but my voice was swallowed by the shock that rippled through the gathering crowd.

"Don't you dare lay a hand on her," Devasena spat, her voice ice-cold, fury blazing in her eyes as she stood protectively before me.

Sethupathi clutched his bleeding hand, stumbling back in shock and pain. "You—how dare you! I am the King's trusted general!" he shouted, but his voice wavered with fear.

Devasena's voice cut through his protests like a blade. "Trust does not give you the right to disrespect any woman," she retorted. "Especially not under the guise of loyalty. Touch her again, and you'll lose more than a few fingers."

A part of me wanted to scream at her for her impulsiveness, but I also felt an overwhelming sense of pride and gratitude. She had risked everything to protect me without hesitation.

The court was tense, with Devasena shackled and surrounded by judgmental gazes. I stood nearby, fighting back tears as I watched her be treated like a criminal. Every whisper and every dismissive glance made me feel more helpless. My frustration boiled over as I shouted, "Is this how you treat your kingdom's daughter-in-law and the one carrying its heir?"

A hush fell over the court, and all eyes shifted to me. Queen Mother Sivagami's glare burned into me while King Bhallaldeva smirked from his throne, his gaze laced with something unnerving yet familiar. Just then, Sethupathi, still nursing his injured hand, sneered through gritted teeth, "Watch your tongue! You are speaking to the Queen Mother!"

Ignoring the tightening knot in my stomach, I met his gaze and let a faint smile play on my lips. "Maybe you should watch where you're inserting yourself, Sethupathi. Who knows, it might be more than just your finger that gets cut next time."

Sivagami's voice thundered through the hall, silencing every murmur. "Who gave you the right to speak in our court? A girl with no position should know her limits!"

Her scorn caused Devasena, silent until now, to spring to my defence. "Is this how you treat your people?" she demanded, her voice unyielding. "You arrested me without a fair trial, and now you're treating the girl who is like my sister with such disdain. Don't people in Mahishmati know how to show respect?"

Gasps echoed around us. Just then, Baahubali strode in, his presence commanding silence. His gaze darkened as he took in Devasena's shackled form, his fists clenching at her mistreatment.

"What happened, Devasena?" he asked, his voice deadly calm though his eyes were already burning with fury.

Devasena didn't hesitate, recounting Sethupathi's attempts to touch me inappropriately and the way he mistreated other women as well. I could feel the moment's weight, and as I glanced at Bhalla, his reaction caught me by surprise. His jaw was tight, his eyes locked on me with a mixture of rage and something else—a silent question, a need to know if this was true. Despite the situation, I found myself nodding, a tear escaping down my cheek. His subtle, acknowledging nod shook me, and I quickly refocused on the scene unfolding.

Sethupathi began stammering out a denial, but before he could finish, Baahubali advanced toward him in a swift, lethal motion. "In Mahishmati," he announced coldly, "a man who dares to dishonour women deserves no less than death." In one stroke, he drew his sword and, without hesitation, severed Sethupathi's head, the declaration echoing in the court.

Gasps filled the hall as Sethupathi's lifeless body collapsed to the floor.

***

As Baahubali and Devasena left the palace grounds, stripped of their titles and finery, I could only watch, my heart heavy. I had tried to follow their example, removing my jewellery in solidarity, but Devasena stopped me with a gentle, insistent look. "These jewels are from Kuntala," she said softly. "You don't need to part with them."

I pouted, wanting to share their fate, but she touched my shoulder. "When we leave, I want you to return to Kuntala. Be there, wait for us," she whispered firmly. I opened my mouth to protest, but her determined gaze silenced me. She wrapped me in a warm hug, kissed my cheek, and left, her figure retreating alongside Baahubali into the welcoming crowd. I watched them go, their people surrounding them with open arms, Kattappa by my side, his eyes brimming with tears as he bade them farewell. He gently patted my head, his comforting touch a silent reassurance.

As he led me back to my chamber to pack, a sense of anxiety gnawed at me. The palace that had once felt secure now seemed foreign, its stone walls cold and unwelcoming. I quickly gathered my things, eager to leave. As I was about to slip into the quiet night, footsteps echoed through the halls. Startled, I darted behind a pillar, my heart pounding as I held my breath.

The footsteps grew closer, steady and unhurried, and my pulse quickened. I dared a glance from behind the stone, and there he stood—Bhalla. His eyes locked on the pillar where I was hiding, and an unsettling smile curved his lips. "Well, well," he drawled, his voice like ice laced with fire. "The flower of Kuntala is shy now?"

I inched along the other side of the pillar, praying he would leave. But as I attempted to move toward the garden doors, a pair of strong arms looped around my waist, trapping me. He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear, and whispered in a chilling tone, "Gotcha."

A shiver ran through me as a single tear escaped, trailing down my cheek. Helplessly, I wondered what lay ahead—what plans he had for me now and whether I'd ever see the ones I cared about again.

***

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