The weight of the silence lingered as I followed him. His strides were long and purposeful, and I had to quicken my pace to keep up. My mind raced with questions, but his back was like a wall, unyielding and distant. Why was he so arrogant? Why wouldn't he just answer me? I wanted to go back, but something inside me told me I couldn't leave things unresolved.

He stopped at a large door, and I hesitated as he pushed it open. I followed him inside, realizing it was his chamber. The room was vast, dimly lit by oil lamps, and carried an air of authority. He turned abruptly, his piercing gaze locking onto mine.

"Why are you following me?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my composure. "I want to go home. Please."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and walked to a throne-like chair at the center of the room. Sitting down, he looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite place. "Why should I believe you?"

"What?" I asked, confused.

He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. "Why should I believe you're not an illusion?"

His words hit me like a wave. He thought I was an illusion?

He continued, his tone softer but no less intense. "It's not the first time I've seen an illusion. They come and go, disappearing every time. Why would you be any different?"

I finally understood. This man had been trapped in this loop for so long that he had lost faith in anything outside of it. My heart ached for him, but I couldn't let him dismiss me like that.

I glanced around and noticed a small knife on the table nearby. Without thinking, I walked over and picked it up. His eyes followed my movements, but he didn't react.

I made a small cut on my palm, the sting sharp but bearable. "Look," I said, holding out my hand. "I'm real. I bleed. I'm not an illusion."

He glanced at my hand, his expression unreadable. "I still don't believe you," he said flatly.

Frustration bubbled inside me, and I couldn't hold back anymore. "You're impossible!" I scolded, my voice rising. "You sit here, wallowing in your misery, refusing to believe anyone or anything could be real. Maybe that's why you're stuck in this loop!"

To my surprise, he listened silently, his eyes never leaving mine. Then, unexpectedly, a small smile tugged at his lips. It wasn't mocking; it was... amused.

He stood and walked toward me, his movements slow and deliberate. Taking my injured hand gently, he led me to another room. I realized it was an old-style bathroom, complete with stone walls and a basin.

He reached for a small jar of turmeric paste and applied it to my cut with surprising gentleness. "You shouldn't have done that," he murmured.

I knew I should have pulled away, but something about his touch was comforting. "Were you scared all this time ?" I asked softly.

He paused for a moment before answering, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yes."

The vulnerability in his tone took me by surprise, and I decided not to press further.

He straightened up and said, "You can stay in the palace. Help yourself. Everyone here is stuck in the loop, so you'll have to manage on your own."

He guided me to a room beside his. It was lavish, with intricate carvings and a large window overlooking the kingdom. "Rest here," he said. "We'll talk tomorrow."

As he left, I walked to the window. The view was breathtaking, but something caught my eye-a thin golden layer in the sky, like a barrier. What was that? The thought lingered as I lay down, my mind restless with questions.

The Next Morning

When I woke up, I found a wardrobe filled with women's clothing from the royal era. Deciding to blend in, I dressed in one of the elegant outfits. The mirror reflected someone I barely recognized-a princess from another time.

I knocked on his door, and his deep voice called me in. He was already dressed in royal attire, and when he turned to face me, his eyes lingered for a moment too long.

"Good morning, Maharaja," I said, testing the title.

He cleared his throat, his expression unreadable. "You look... different."

Ignoring his comment, I got straight to the point. "How can I go back?"

He sighed, gesturing toward the broken mirror in the room. "The mirror needs to be whole to cross between worlds. But it's broken, and three pieces are missing."

"You're sure there are four pieces?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "I was there when it shattered."

I pressed further. "How long have you been stuck here? Why didn't you try to get out?"

He hesitated before answering the year and continued , " And I couldn't leave the empire, let alone the loop." I understood the year timing and murmured, "It's been centuries. Since before the Kalinga war."

We walked to the garden as he explained. He left briefly and returned with food. "You eat the same thing every day?" I asked.

"Not always. Sometimes I cook for myself," he replied with a faint smile.

We exchanged questions, and I told him about the year 2024. His shock was evident, but he quickly masked it. "Our kingdom isn't even mentioned in your time?"

I hesitated before answering honestly. "No. It's considered a myth."

His expression hardened, and he looked away. "It's not your fault," he said after a long pause.

He explained that the barrier surrounding the kingdom erased them from the world's memory. "If you can find the one piece for now , you might be able to break the loop," he said.

We set out on horseback, heading to the border where he believed one piece was located. As we rode, the proximity was... distracting. His warmth was impossible to ignore.

He said that', He couldn't cross the barrier, but I could.

At the border, he helped me down, his hands lingering on my waist for a moment too long. I cleared my throat, stepping away.

I glanced at him, sitting tall on his horse, his face stoic but his eyes betraying a glimmer of uncertainty. The barrier shimmered faintly in the sunlight, like a thin golden veil separating two worlds. It was almost imperceptible, yet its presence felt heavy, like an unspoken curse binding the kingdom.

"You're sure about this?" he asked, his voice steady, but there was a subtle edge of concern.

I nodded, gripping the reins of the horse tightly. "If there's even a chance that I can break this loop, I'll take it."

He didn't respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the barrier. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he might stop me. But then he sighed, dismounted his horse with a graceful ease, and walked over to me.

"If you feel anything strange-pain, dizziness-come back immediately," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I nodded again, trying to mask my own apprehension. I slid off the horse, my feet crunching against the dry, cracked earth. The air felt heavier the closer I got to the barrier, as if it were pushing back against my presence.

He stopped a few steps away, unable to come any closer. "I can't see past it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "But I know the piece is out there. Be careful."

I took a deep breath and stepped forward. The moment I crossed the barrier, a strange sensation washed over me. It was like walking through a sheet of ice-cold water, but without getting wet. My ears popped, and the world around me shifted.

The air on the other side was different-fresher, yet eerily silent. The landscape was barren, with patches of dry grass swaying gently in the wind. The sun hung lower here, casting long, eerie shadows.

I turned back to look at him. He was standing right where I had left him, his eyes scanning the area frantically. I waved, but his gaze passed through me as if I were invisible. He really couldn't see me.

"Alright, Aranya," I muttered to myself. "Let's find this piece and get out of here."

I walked further, my heart pounding with every step. The ground beneath my feet felt strange-softer, yet with an underlying sense of unease. After a few minutes, I spotted something glinting in the distance, catching the last rays of the setting sun.

As I approached, I realized it was a man lying on the ground, his body sprawled awkwardly. My breath hitched. He was dressed in attire similar to the Maharaja's, but his clothes were torn and bloodstained.

I hesitated, my instincts screaming at me to turn back. But then I saw it-a shard of glass tucked into his belt, gleaming faintly. The piece of the mirror.

Summoning all my courage, I crouched beside him. He wasn't breathing. His skin was pale, his eyes closed. I swallowed hard and reached for the shard. The glass was jagged, and as I pulled it free, it nicked my palm. A sharp sting shot through my hand, and blood welled up instantly.

I winced, clutching the shard tightly. "Got it," I whispered, my voice trembling.

The moment I stood up, a gust of wind swept through the area, carrying with it an eerie, hollow sound. I didn't wait to find out what it was. I turned and ran, clutching the shard against my chest.

The barrier loomed ahead, faintly shimmering in the twilight. He was still there, pacing anxiously, his hands clenching and unclenching.

"I'm back!" I called out as I approached, though I knew he couldn't hear me.

The moment I stepped through the barrier, the cold sensation returned, and the world shifted again. His head snapped toward me instantly, relief flooding his features.

"You're okay," he murmured, his voice barely audible. Before I could respond, he closed the distance between us and pulled me into a tight embrace.

I froze, caught off guard by the sudden contact. His arms were strong and steady, his hold protective. For a moment, I could feel his heartbeat, fast and erratic, as if he had been terrified of losing me.

"She's okay," he whispered, almost to himself. "She's fine."

After a few moments, he pulled back, his hands lingering on my shoulders. His eyes scanned me, landing on the cut on my hand.

"You're hurt," he said, his tone shifting to one of gentle reprimand.

"It's nothing," I replied, trying to downplay it. But he wasn't having it.

He took my hand carefully, examining the wound. "You're reckless," he muttered, but there was no real anger in his voice-only worry.

"I got the piece," I said, holding up the shard.

His eyes widened slightly, a mix of awe and disbelief crossing his face. "You actually found it."

I nodded. "But there was... a man. He was dead. Do you know who he might be?"

His expression darkened, and he let out a heavy sigh. "There have been others who tried to escape the loop. Not everyone succeeds." He Was Lying.

I shivered at his words, the weight of the situation sinking in.

"Let's go back," I said softly.

He nodded, and we mounted the horse once more. The ride back was silent, but his presence felt more protective now, his hand steadying me as we rode.

When we reached the place, in front of the mirror, we dismounted, and he led me back to the place where the mirror stood.

"This piece will only repair part of the mirror," he explained, his voice low. "It won't be enough to fully open the portal, but it might allow you to cross for a few seconds. If you don't make it in time..." He trailed off, his expression grim.

"I'll make it," I said firmly, though my heart was racing.

He hesitated, then asked, "You never told me your name."

I blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in tone. "You never asked," I replied with a small smile. "It's Aranya Mehra."

He smiled faintly, the first genuine smile I had seen from him. "Aranya," he repeated, as if testing the name.

I placed the shard against the mirror. Light erupted from the cracks, illuminating the place The mirror began to repair itself, the shard fusing into place.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time.

"Yes," I said, meeting his gaze. We heard a crack sound and saw the barrier getting invisible by every second .

Before I could step through, he reached out and gently pushed me forward. The last thing I saw was his face, a mixture of hope and sorrow, before the world went dark.