Ram Sharan's laugh shattered the quiet forest, loud and jagged like broken glass.
"Ha… HAH! I think you don't understand, stranger…" His eyes burned with madness as he yanked Leena closer.
"This woman belongs to me. SHE IS MINE!"
Leena winced at the pressure on her arm, but her eyes stayed defiant, refusing to give him the fear he wanted.
The Seventh Prince's gaze didn't waver.
"Maybe in your country she is…" He stepped forward, the faintest smile curving his lips.
"…But here? She is my personal physician."
Both Leena and Ram Sharan froze.
"Y‑Your what?" she whispered, her voice caught between disbelief and outrage.
Ram's face contorted in rage.
"She can't heal you! She's nothing—just a disgraceful outcast!"
"Let. Her. Go."
The prince's voice dropped lower, colder—like steel sliding from its sheath.
"You'll have to kill me first!" Ram roared.
In a flash, he pulled a curved dagger from his robes and pressed the blade against Leena's throat.
Maya screamed, then fainted on the spot, collapsing onto the wet riverbank.
The river gurgled softly, mocking the stillness.
Ram's eyes gleamed with triumph.
"…Or her," he hissed.
A single bead of blood traced down Leena's neck as the dagger pressed harder.
Her heart thundered—is this how I die?
The prince's hands flexed at his sides, a storm brewing behind his calm eyes.
He took one step forward, voice low and deadly.
"You just made the worst mistake of your life."