The caravan's journey continued, the memory of the ambush and the hunter's intense claim settling over Aadhya like a second skin. Her focus was sharp, now fueled by anger at her own body's weakness. She would not submit; she would strategize.
In the carriage, the dynamics were clear. Tanishka and Ridhima, chastened by Yashodhara's previous defense of Aadhya, had changed tactics. They now spoke only to the Rathore princess, their voices dripping with flattery.
"Yashodhara, darling," Ridhima cooed, adjusting Yashodhara's shawl. "You are simply too elegant for this rustic journey. Your composure is flawless, much like your mother's. It is clear where Prince Rudra gets his formidable reputation, with women like you leading his house."
They were establishing their loyalty to the Rathores, attempting to link themselves to power and grace, while subtly isolating Aadhya.
Later, when Aadhya and her step-sisters were alone for a moment—Meera having stepped out to fetch water—Tanishka leaned in close, her smile tight with condescension.
"You look utterly drained, Aadhya," she whispered. "This harsh environment doesn't suit your soft nature. Kanvargarh is a kingdom of endless dust and crude people ruled by a man who prefers blood to diplomacy. Don't worry. If you return home unwed, Devendra will still take you out of pity."
Aadhya offered a polite, serene smile that did not reach her eyes. Let them believe I am weak. Let them believe I am scared of their 'brute.' She would soon show them the truth of the Rathore kingdom and her own steel.
The Price of Trust
That evening, Aadhya again sought the small, private stream. She knew he would appear. Her heart hammered with a blend of fear and the terrifying, heady anticipation of his presence. She needed to know the identity of the unseen force that protected her.
He materialized by the stream, silent as the shadows. He wore a dark, heavy tunic, emphasizing the raw power in his shoulders and chest.
"You came," he observed, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that instantly tightened Aadhya's stomach.
Aadhya turned to face him, forcing herself not to flinch. She needed to appear controlled, even though her breath hitched every time he drew near.
"I came to deliver a message," Aadhya stated, her voice slightly shaky but firm. "I appreciate the intervention with the arrows. However, I demand to know who you are and why you concern yourself with my safety."
He watched her, a slow, dark smile spreading across his lips—a smile that was all the more potent for its rarity. It was reserved for her, and it sent a flash of wicked heat through her veins.
"Demands, little Princess?" he mocked gently. "That is not the language one uses with their protector." He took a slow, deliberate step toward her, his gaze intense. "My name is not important. What is important is that I watch you. I see the venom the little songbirds spray in your ears, and I see the fire you hide beneath your silks."
He closed the distance, stopping mere inches from her. Aadhya instinctively raised her hand, resting it against his chest in a desperate attempt to maintain space. The raw, heavy muscle beneath his tunic made her realize the futility of the gesture, but the contact was electric.
"You call it dominance," he murmured, his gaze dropping to the trembling hand on his chest. "I call it necessity. You are a prize, Aadhya. And prizes must be secured."
He reached up, his large, rough hand covering her smaller one where it rested against his chest. He didn't move it; he simply held it captive there, making her acutely aware of his powerful heartbeat beneath her palm.
"You offered trust as your price," he reminded her, his voice low and seductive. "A high price. To earn it, I will give you a gift."
His eyes held hers, daring her to look away. "The territories your sisters mock—the 'barren ground'—are the most resource-rich lands in the realm. The ruins you passed today sit atop the largest iron ore deposit in the North, essential for our steel and currency. Kanvargarh is not crude; it is the wealthiest and most strategically powerful kingdom on this side of the mountains."
A shock ran through Aadhya. This was confirmation of her own strategic suspicion, delivered with dangerous confidence. The sisters were not just petty; they were fundamentally ignorant.
The hunter leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his breath warm. "I give you truth, Aadhya. Use it. Now, tell me, is my protection still unwanted?"
A wave of dizzying sensation hit her. He was not just a protector; he was an unrivaled source of intelligence and power. He was offering her the tools to win her game.
"Your protection is... valuable," Aadhya admitted, the words catching in her throat, her body traitorously leaning into his warmth. She felt the heavy, thrilling awareness of his power and his proximity.
He pulled back slightly, his dark eyes radiating pure, male satisfaction. "Good. Then remember this, little tigress: I do not offer information to everyone. My secrets, like my protection, are yours alone. Use them to crush the little birds."
He released her hand, the warmth instantly replaced by a sharp chill. He vanished into the night as quickly as he arrived, leaving Aadhya leaning against the stream's edge, utterly breathless.
He had just armed her with the most potent weapon: undeniable, strategic truth. And he had confirmed her place in his sights, not as a conquest, but as an ally worth investing in.
The king bows only for his queen, but first, the queen must crush her rivals with the truth the king has gifted her.