Life in Malvastra was… different.

For the first time since I had arrived in this era, I wasn’t surrounded by grand palaces, royal guards, or strict formalities. Instead, I found myself in a world that felt closer to reality—a world where I could walk freely through the streets, explore marketplaces, and experience life as a common citizen.

Rudraksha, of course, had buried himself in work.

I wasn’t surprised. He had come here with a purpose—to meet the Malvastra rulers and assess the situation firsthand. He spent most of his time in meetings, speaking with nobles and officials, gathering information about the so-called rebellion.

Which left me… with nothing to do.

And that was unacceptable.

I had spent too long in Vyantara being protected, watched, and treated like some fragile royal guest. Now that I was in disguise, I wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.

I was going to explore.

I stepped out of our house-turned-temporary-home early in the morning, my dupatta draped over my head to blend in with the other women.

The streets of Malvastra were full of life.

Vendors called out their wares, children ran through the alleyways, and women in colorful sarees carried baskets of fruits and flowers. The scent of fresh bread, sizzling spices, and burning incense filled the air, making my mouth water.

A group of musicians sat near the temple steps, playing instruments I didn’t recognize. Their music was lively, and people clapped along as they played.

I wandered through the market, my eyes wide with fascination.

There were stalls selling handcrafted jewelry, vibrant textiles, and delicate clay pots painted in intricate designs. Some vendors offered herbal medicines, while others displayed brass lamps and carved idols.

Everything felt so alive.

I paused at a sweet shop, where a vendor was making fresh jalebis—golden spirals sizzling in hot oil before being dipped in sugar syrup.

“Would you like to try some, Bahu-rani?” the elderly vendor asked, smiling.

I blinked. “Excuse me- huh ?”

He chuckled. “You must be newly married, yes? You have the glow of a new bride.”

I coughed. Great. Even strangers believe Rudraksha’s fake story.

“I—uh—yes, newly married,” I said awkwardly, hoping to move past the topic.

He grinned and handed me a piece of jalebi. “Then your husband must buy you something sweet. It is tradition.”

I nearly laughed. If only he knew the kind of ‘husband’ Rudraksha was.

I took the jalebi and bit into it—the crispy, syrupy goodness melting in my mouth. “This is amazing.”

The vendor beamed. “Take some home. A husband must keep his wife happy.”

I shook my head. “Trust me, he has no choice.”

As I continued exploring, I stumbled upon a perfume shop filled with small glass bottles of scented oils. The shopkeeper let me try different ones—sandalwood, rose, jasmine, and even an exotic blend called Rajnigandha, which smelled of mystery and moonlit gardens.

Further ahead, I found a calligrapher, an old man sitting on a low stool, writing in beautiful Sanskrit on long scrolls. He offered to write my name, and I watched in awe as he elegantly crafted “Aranya” in flowing letters.

Everywhere I went, there was something new to see, something new to experience.

But something felt… off.

People occasionally stared at me—not in a hostile way, but in curiosity. As if they recognized me.

Was it because of Prithish? Because of that strange name he had called me—Lavanya?

I brushed the thought away. It was probably just my imagination.

By midday, I returned home, exhausted but happy.

The moment I stepped inside, I was greeted by the sight of Rudraksha, sitting at the table, surrounded by scrolls and maps.

He looked up, his golden eyes scanning me from head to toe.

“Where have you been?”

I placed a small cloth bag on the table. “Exploring.”

He frowned. “Alone?”

“Yes, father,” I teased, rolling my eyes.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Aranya…”

I smiled and opened the bag, revealing the jalebis I had bought. “Here. Your ‘new bride’ was told to bring sweets for her ‘husband.’”

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

I smirked. “Long story. Just eat one.”

He hesitated but took a bite. His expression didn’t change, but I could see the slight approval in his eyes.

“It’s good,” he admitted.

I grinned. “You’re welcome.”

He shook his head, amused. “And what else did you do?”

“Oh, you know. Saw the city. Met people. Learned new things.”

His gaze darkened slightly. “Anyone important?”

I knew what he was really asking.

“No, Rudraksha. I didn’t meet PriThish,” I said, rolling my eyes.

He didn’t look convinced. “Be careful. He is not the same man I knew before the loop.”

I sighed. “You’re being paranoid.”

He leaned forward, his voice lower. “You don’t know this kingdom like I do, Aranya. People here play dangerous games. You think you’re blending in, but I assure you, someone has already noticed you.”

A chill ran down my spine. “Why do you say that?”

“Because,” he said, eyes locked onto mine, “I noticed them watching you.”

I swallowed. So I wasn’t imagining it.

He leaned back, exhaling. “From now on, you don’t go anywhere alone.”

I frowned. “I can take care of myself.”

His gaze softened slightly. “I know you can. But that doesn’t mean you have to.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but something about the way he said it made my heart stutter.

“…Fine,” I muttered.

He smirked, clearly satisfied with my surrender.

As the evening settled in, we sat outside in the small courtyard, a lantern flickering between us. The scent of jasmine filled the air, and the sounds of the city slowly quieted down.

I watched him, his usual sharp expression softer in the dim light.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

He looked at me, studying my face for a moment before speaking.

“Nothing.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re lying.”

He exhaled. “I was just… remembering old times. This place was different before.”

I hummed, leaning back against the wooden bench. “Do you miss it?”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, “Not really.”

I smiled. “Because Vyantara is your real home?”

His eyes flickered to me. “Because you are in Vyantara.”

I froze.

He looked away as if realizing what he had just said. “Forget it.”

I swallowed, my heart pounding in my chest.

But I didn’t forget.

I wouldn’t forget.

The night was calm—too calm.

The air was thick with the scent of jasmine from the courtyard, the lanterns inside our home flickering softly. The streets had quieted down, the hum of daily life settling into a peaceful silence. I had spent the evening talking with Rudraksha, teasing him about the jalebis, and for a brief moment, everything felt normal.

But normal never lasted long.

I stirred awake at the distant sound of shouting.

I sat up, my heart hammering as I listened closely. The voices were growing louder—panicked cries, the clatter of running footsteps, the unmistakable clash of metal against metal.

I threw off my blanket and moved toward the window, peering out into the dark streets. In the distance, flames flickered against the night sky, orange and red licking at the shadows.

Something was happening.

Before I could react, the door to my chamber swung open.

Rudraksha stood there, already dressed in his dark tunic, a dagger strapped to his waist. His golden eyes glowed under the lantern’s light, sharp and unreadable.

“Stay inside,” he ordered.

I scoffed. “Yeah, not happening.”

He exhaled in frustration. “Aranya—”

I was already grabbing my shawl. “I need to see what’s happening.”

“I’ll find out. You will stay here.”

I crossed my arms. “And if you get into trouble, who’s going to save you?”

His jaw ticked, but before he could argue further, a loud explosion erupted in the distance.

I flinched, my body tensing as the impact shook the ground beneath us. The entire town was awake now, people rushing outside in confusion and fear.

Rudraksha cursed under his breath before grabbing my wrist. “Fine. But you stay close to me.”

The streets were a mess.

Fires burned through wooden stalls, merchants desperately trying to salvage what they could. A temple bell rang frantically in the distance, signaling danger. Guards ran past, shouting orders, and people were screaming, scattering in every direction.

I clutched my shawl tighter around me as I took in the scene. “What the hell is going on?”

Rudraksha’s expression darkened. “It’s an attack. Not from outsiders… but from within.”

“An internal rebellion?”

He nodded, scanning the surroundings. “I told you this kingdom was unstable.”

Before I could respond, a man with a blade rushed toward us.

I barely had time to react before Rudraksha moved like lightning.

His dagger was out in an instant, his body blocking mine effortlessly. With a swift, precise movement, he disarmed the attacker, twisting his arm behind his back before slamming him to the ground.

The man groaned in pain, but Rudraksha wasn’t done. His knee pressed into the attacker’s back, his blade hovering dangerously close to his throat.

“Who sent you?” Rudraksha’s voice was low, deadly.

The man spat on the ground, refusing to answer.

Rudraksha pressed harder. “Speak.”

The attacker gritted his teeth, but before he could say anything, an arrow whizzed past us, piercing the man’s chest.

I gasped as the attacker choked, his body jerking once before going still.

Rudraksha immediately pulled me back, his grip tightening around my wrist. Someone had silenced him before he could talk.

“Whoever is behind this doesn’t want us knowing their plans,” he muttered.

I swallowed, trying to steady my breathing. This wasn’t just some minor unrest—something much bigger was happening in Malvastra.

We moved quickly through the alleyways, avoiding the chaos in the main streets.

Rudraksha kept his body close to mine, his eyes scanning every dark corner, every shadowed figure.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice softer now.

I exhaled shakily. “I’ve had better nights.”

His lips twitched, but his gaze remained sharp.

I touched his arm lightly. “You saved me back there.”

He looked at me then, his golden eyes unreadable. “You were never in danger. Not while I’m here.”

Something about the way he said it sent warmth spreading through my chest.

We stood there for a moment, the sounds of the burning city fading into the background.

I didn’t know if it was the adrenaline, or the fact that we had nearly been attacked, but my heart was pounding—and not just from fear.

His fingers were still wrapped around my wrist, his touch firm yet careful.

“Rudraksha,” I murmured.

He inhaled sharply, his gaze flickering to my lips for the briefest second before he stepped back. “We should move.”

I bit my lip, nodding.

Later. I’ll think about this later.

As the streets began to settle, we decided to take a walk through the quieter parts of town to assess the situation.

I was still worried. This wasn’t just some random attack—someone had orchestrated it. Someone wanted this kingdom to fall into disorder.

We walked in silence for a while, the cool night air soothing against my overheated skin.

Then, from the opposite direction, a familiar figure approached.

Prithish.

He was dressed simply, but there was no mistaking the authority in his posture. His gaze locked onto Rudraksha first, then flickered to me.

Rudraksha stiffened beside me.

“I heard about the attack,” Prithish said, his tone neutral. “I assume you were caught in the middle of it?”

Rudraksha crossed his arms. “We handled it.”

Prihish’s gaze shifted back to me, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “And you are…?”

I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, Rudraksha answered for me.

“No one you need to know.”

I turned to him, eyebrows raised. Rude much?

Prithish smirked slightly. “Still as arrogant as ever, Rudraksha.”

Ignoring him, he looked at me again, waiting for an answer.

I sighed. “I’m Aranya.”

Something flashed in his expression. His lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something, but he hesitated.

For a moment, I thought he was about to call me Lavanya again.

But instead, he simply nodded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you , aranya .”

With that, he stepped aside and walked past us, disappearing into the streets.

I turned to Rudraksha, narrowing my eyes. “What the hell was that?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he simply took my hand—not gently this time, but firmly, possessively—and started walking.

“Rudraksha.”

Still no answer.

I tugged my hand away, forcing him to stop. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

His jaw tightened. “I don’t trust him.”

“You used to be friends.”

“That was before.”

I frowned. “Before what?”

He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. “Before everything changed.”

I studied him for a moment. There was something deeper here—something he wasn’t telling me.

But instead of pressing, I simply placed a hand on his arm.

“I can handle myself,” I said softly.

His eyes met mine, and for a second, I saw conflict there.

Then, finally, he sighed.

“I know,” he murmured.

He didn’t let go of my hand this time. And I didn’t pull away.