Himanshu_M7738

Satya, a talented sketch artist, begins drawing a mysterious girl he’s never seen, only to realize she appears in his dreams. He believes they shared a connection in a past life, where he was Veer, a royal artist who loved a girl named Meera.

In the present day, Saanvi, unaware of her past life, unknowingly leads Satya on a search for answers. Through dreams and clues, Satya uncovers fragments of their shared history but struggles to meet her. After multiple twists of fate, Satya finally encounters Saanvi in Jaipur, and they begin a conversation centered around their mutual love for sketching.

As they grow closer, Satya remains patient, letting their connection develop naturally, while Saanvi starts to sense a deeper bond. The story explores reincarnation, love beyond time, and the power of art to reunite souls.

Sketching her Shadows

Jayant's grip on the gun tightened as he took slow, measured steps around the room. His voice dripped with venom, his words sharp as a blade.

"You really don't understand, do you?" He let out a bitter chuckle. "Veer and Meera ruined everything."

Satya's breath hitched. Saanvi's fingers dug into his arm as they remained hidden behind a crumbling pillar. The weight of Jayant's words pressed down on them.

Jayant continued, his voice eerily calm. "The throne wasn't meant to stay empty. The plan was simple—silence Veer and claim Meera." He scoffed. "After all, the moment the king was dead, she was the only heir left. And what better way to secure the throne than by marrying her off to the minister's son?"

Satya's pulse pounded. That was their plan all along? To erase Veer, steal the kingdom, and claim the power that was never theirs?

Jayant's voice hardened. "But Veer—" he spat the name like a curse, "that damned artist—he wouldn't stay out of it. He knew too much. He saw the betrayal with his own eyes. He heard every whispered plan. And instead of running, he stood in the way."

Satya's chest tightened. Memories flickered like distant flames. Veer—standing at the edge of a war he never intended to fight. Meera—desperate, trying to stop the inevitable.

Jayant took a step closer. "So, we silenced him."

Saanvi gasped softly, but Jayant didn't hear.

"We made it look like treason. The people turned against him. The history books marked him as a traitor. And when he finally fell—when he finally bled out in the very palace he loved—" Jayant's smile darkened, "we thought we had won."

Satya's fists clenched. But something had gone wrong.

Jayant exhaled sharply. "Meera—she was supposed to be controlled. Broken. But the fool—" His expression twisted with anger. "She took her own life."

The words cut through the air like a blade.

Saanvi's breath hitched. "She…?"

Jayant's expression darkened. "She threw herself from the palace walls. She chose death over the life we had planned for her. And in that one moment, everything collapsed. The minister—he never got the throne. My father spent his life as nothing more than a powerless minister, and Veer and Meera became nothing more than forgotten tragedies."

Satya's entire body tensed. The memories were coming back too fast, too sharp. He could almost hear the whispers in the dark corridors, feel the weight of betrayal, see Meera standing on the palace walls one last time.

Jayant exhaled, his patience running thin. "And now—here you are. Digging up graves that were meant to stay buried. Do you really think history will change?"

He raised his gun, stepping toward the darkness where Satya and Saanvi hid.

Satya knew one thing for certain. Jayant wasn't leaving this place without finishing what his ancestors started.

Chapter 93: A Throne Stained with Blood