A Royal Homecoming

February 6, 2010 – 12:45 PM

The midday sun cast sharp shadows over the winding roads of Mussoorie, its golden light bouncing off the tiled rooftops and narrow alleyways of the hillside town. The crisp mountain air carried the distant hum of conversations, the occasional honk of a passing vehicle, and the rhythmic chirping of birds nestled in the deodar trees.

At the heart of a quiet residential area, a long, black motorcade came to a halt in front of a modest but well-maintained two-story house. The moment was surreal. The house belonged to Raja Ram Pandey, a respected schoolteacher, and his family. It was also the home of Smriti Pandey—the woman Krishna Deva Raya had loved for years.

The sight of the grand motorcade, flanked by heavily armed security personnel, sent shockwaves through the neighborhood.

From behind wooden fences and half-open doors, villagers whispered among themselves.

"What is happening at Raja Ram Pandey's house?" a woman asked, peering from her kitchen window.

"Why are there so many police officers and soldiers?" another murmured, craning his neck for a better look.

A tall man, arms crossed over his chest, let out a thoughtful hum. "Is he in trouble? Maybe the government has come to arrest him?"

"Nonsense," an elderly man scoffed. "Raja Ram Pandey is a teacher, not a criminal."

As they speculated, Smriti Pandey stood outside her home, dressed in a simple light blue salwar kameez, her dupatta draped loosely over her shoulder. She had been sweeping the front yard when the sudden arrival of the motorcade stunned her into stillness.

And then, she saw him.

For a brief moment, the world around her blurred. The whispers, the curious gazes, the security personnel—all faded into the background.

Standing just a few feet away was Krishna Deva Raya.

The man she had once loved. The man she had spent years waiting for.

Her heart pounded. Her breath hitched. Without a second thought, she ran to him.

Krishna barely had time to react before Smriti threw her arms around him, holding him in a tight embrace.

For a fleeting five seconds, it felt like they were back in their university days—two young lovers with no titles, no responsibilities, just the warmth of each other's presence.

Then, reality hit her.

Remembering the watchful eyes of her neighbors, she quickly pulled away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. A hushed murmur spread through the crowd.

"Who is that man?" someone asked.

"He must be her boyfriend," another speculated.

"If he came in a motorcade like that, he must be someone important."

A woman gasped, eyes widening as realization dawned. "Wait… isn't he the Crown Prince of Vijayanagara? I saw his face on the news!"

The murmurs turned into excited chatter.

"Smriti is really lucky," a villager said in awe. "Imagine being loved by a man like that."

Meanwhile, Smriti turned to Krishna, her arms crossed, her lips pursed in a pout.

"Why are you here?" she demanded. "You disappeared for years without a single phone call, and now you suddenly show up?"

Krishna's expression softened, regret evident in his dark eyes. "I know, Smriti. I should have reached out sooner." He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a gentle tone. "But I had responsibilities. I had to prepare myself for the empire, for my people. And now, I am here for you."

Smriti frowned, still upset but unable to ignore the way her heart fluttered at his words. "And what exactly do you want from me?"

Krishna inhaled deeply. "I want to marry you."

Her breath caught in her throat.

"I want you to be my queen," he added, sincerity radiating from every word.

Smriti's eyes widened. The word queen felt heavy, unreal. She had already known about Krishna's true identity—she had seen him on the news, heard about the Vijayanagara monarchy. But hearing it directly from him? That was different.

For a moment, she simply stared at him before huffing, turning her head away. "Who wants to be your queen?" she muttered, her lips forming a small pout.

Krishna chuckled at her reaction. Even after all these years, she was still the same Smriti.

A Father's Shock

Inside the house, Raja Ram Pandey and his wife, Bhanumaya Pandey, had been resting when the commotion outside caught their attention.

Bhanumaya frowned. "Why is it suddenly so noisy?"

Raja Ram sighed, setting down his book. "Let me check."

As they stepped outside, they were met with a sight they had never expected—armed security personnel, high-ranking officers, and a fleet of luxury cars lined up outside their home.

Their daughter stood in the middle of it all, speaking to a young man they didn't recognize at first.

Raja Ram's gaze darted to the school principal, Veru Sahasrabuddhe, who stood to the side with an unreadable expression. He approached him, lowering his voice.

"Principal sir, what is happening? Who is that young man?"

The principal let out a breath. "Raja Ram, have you done something extraordinary in your past life?"

The teacher blinked in confusion. "What?"

Principal Veru chuckled, shaking his head. "That young man talking to your daughter… he is not just anyone. He is Krishna Deva Raya, the Crown Prince of Vijayanagara."

Raja Ram's breath hitched. He felt the ground shift beneath his feet.

"The… Crown Prince?" he echoed.

Veru nodded. "And he is here for Smriti."

Silence.

For a moment, Raja Ram couldn't process what he had just heard. His daughter—his simple, kind-hearted daughter—was being courted by the heir to one of the world's most powerful monarchies.

Seeing his stunned expression, Krishna took a respectful step forward.

"Namaste, Sir," he greeted, bowing slightly. "I would like to speak with you."

Realizing that the crowd outside was growing, Raja Ram quickly gestured toward the house. "Please, come inside."

Inside the Pandey Home

Smriti's home was warm and welcoming, filled with well-kept furniture and shelves lined with books. The faint scent of sandalwood lingered in the air.

As Krishna stepped inside and took a seat on the sofa, a strange feeling washed over him.

He looked around, his fingers lightly grazing the fabric of the couch.

This house… it reminded him of his past life.

Back when he was just a boy—an orphan with no family, no royal title—he had lived in a home just like this. A place, filled with riches rather than loves.

A pang of nostalgia hit him.

Smriti noticed the distant look in his eyes. "Krishna, are you okay?"

He snapped out of his thoughts, offering her a small smile. "I'm fine."

From the corner of the room, Raja Ram and Bhanumaya sat quietly, observing their daughter's interaction with this mysterious yet powerful man.

The rest of the family members lingered in the background, stealing glances from behind doorways and curtains, their curiosity getting the better of them.

For them, this was a once-in-a-lifetime moment. Never had they imagined a royal figure would sit in their living room, speaking so gently and sincerely.

Little did they know, this was only the beginning of a story that would change all of their lives forever.