Another Birthday in that world.

The birds chirped outside, their familiar calls filling the morning air. This was her reality now—this world, this time, this body. No matter how much she wished otherwise, she was here. And today was her birthday.

"Happy birthday," she murmured to herself, her voice flat.

She was nearly ready, draped in layers of gold jewelry that shimmered in the dim light. The dress, made for this one occasion, was exquisite. But no matter how beautiful she looked, something was missing. A smile. A sparkle in her eyes.

A whole year had passed. She was still here. Still trapped in a life that wasn't her own. Would she ever return? She asked herself often, but there were never any answers.

Outside her chamber, Mitrabhanu announced his presence. The head attendant, a strict yet kind woman, glanced at her before stepping out to speak with him. He was waiting, his impatience evident—not from irritation, but anticipation.

A servant placed the final piece—the headdress—on her head. She turned to the mirror.

Who was she?

The woman turning twenty-one today—was she still Abhilasha Bordoloi from 3rd Street in Tezpur, Assam? Or was she now Alokika, the woman everyone believed her to be?

She stared at her reflection. The attendants watched, puzzled by her hesitation. Outside, Mitrabhanu's impatience grew. Still, she examined herself as if searching for something—some proof that she was not who they said she was.

"You don't like it, my ladyship?" the head attendant asked, concern lacing her voice.

The Queen snapped out of her thoughts. "Like it?" She glanced at herself once more. "It's beautiful." She said and asked, "Is it time?"

"Yes," the woman confirmed.

A thin veil was draped over her head to ward off ill fortune. Today, as tradition dictated, she would visit her birth tree.

She took a deep breath and stepped forward, her attendants following in silent procession. The veil fluttered in the breeze, but she paid it no mind.

"My lady." The prince bowed before her. "The carriage is ready. Allow me to escort you."

This man.

The moment felt eerily familiar, just like that day—a year ago—when she had first woken up in this body. The same dark sky, the same fading moon. Even the carriage waiting before her. Had it been the same one?

She approached, watching as the horses shifted restlessly, their hooves tapping against the ground. A lantern flickered at the carriage's side, its flame weak but steady.

Mitrabhanu—the prince of a kingdom that was no longer free—was now her bodyguard.

"My lady." He extended a hand. She accepted it, stepping into the carriage. Another lantern inside cast a dim glow, just enough to illuminate the space.

As the carriage moved, she glanced at her attendant, who seemed uneasy. She turned to Mitrabhanu. "Stay behind the carriage," she advised. "Let's not repeat what happened last year. They could be watching again."

"You have nothing to fear, my lady," he assured her. Mounting his horse, he gave her a final look before speaking to the attendant. "I'll keep my distance. Chandramukha patrolled the forest—there's no danger."

That name—Chandramukha.

She latched onto it. The carriage jolted forward. The wheels crunched against the earth, and her bangles jingled with each bump. The lantern swayed in rhythm.

The horses galloped, their hooves striking the ground. Though the sun had yet to rise, the birds had begun their morning chatter. Their calls surrounded her, filling the silence like a household coming to life.

"Where is my sock? I can't find my notebook. Did you see my red file? Where is my tie?" - Little things. Everyday things. The birds' chatter reminded her of them.

'Would I ever return?' she wondered, 'And if I do, who would be there, for me to ask for my socks? who would call out, "Breakfast is ready! Skip it today, and I'll starve you for a week!"

there is no one. Should I still return?'

More than anything, she missed one person—Nalini, her mother. In a world where the impossible had become real, a fragile hope lingered in her heart.

Th constant assurance that she looked for in her mind was, "Could my mother still be alive in that world? Could this all be a nightmare?"

That hope kept her going. It was all she wanted—to return. To go back to her world. To be herself again.

A peacock's cry startled her from her thoughts. She leaned out of the window, catching a glimpse of the man riding beside the carriage. He stayed close.

It was all too familiar. This had already happened once before. That first time, she had looked out just like this, and he had been riding that same horse. Back then, he had hated her—or at least, he had hated Alokika.

Only four people knew her secret. Without them, the world would have discovered the truth. Once they would have, she wouldn't have survived. They would call her a witch who had stolen their Queen's body.

No one was protecting Abhilasha here. They were protecting Alokika—her legacy, her place. She knew it that it was on her to protect herself and somehow return back safe in her world.

She looked at Mitrabhanu again. As if sensing her gaze, he turned his head.

This time, she didn't look away.

The first time, she had been afraid of him. Curious about him. Now, he was the only one in this world she could call a friend. The only one who listened when she spoke. The only one who saw Abhilasha, not just the Queen.

Mitrabhanu had lost his parents. So had she. He sought revenge. So did she. He lived a life where death lurked around every corner. So did she.

Last monsoon, she had heard voices in her dreams—familiar ones. She had heard her uncle cry. Three nights in a row, they had called to her. When she told the man who was supposedly her father in this world, he had said, "It is a sign. Your body is alive in that world."

That day, her hope was reborn.

Mitrabhanu looked at her again. She smiled. He smiled. It was a silent exchange.

His smile meant, "How are you?"

Hers meant, "Almost fine. And you?"

Once, they had been reckless friends. Time had forced them into their roles—Queen and bodyguard.

The carriage slowed to a stop.

Mitrabhanu dismounted, scanning the surroundings. They were deep in the forest now, far from the palace. Before them stood a monument.

"We are here," he said, offering his hand. "Pull your veil down before we go."

She did. But as she stepped out, a thought crossed her mind.

"Wouldn't it be convenient if I were attacked?" she mused shamelessly. "At least then, he would appear."

She wanted to see him.

It was her birthday, after all.

The butcher boy.

Coming and saving her heroically. 

She wanted to meet him once, today, where she is still a princess.

Tomorrow she would embark on her journey of Queenship