Chapter 25: Where the Masks Crack

Part – 1; The banquet was supposed to be a celebration.

Silk draped the walls. Laughter rose like perfume. Gold flickered in every goblet. But beneath the music, there was something else—something too still, like the moment before a blade finds the gap in armor.

Sitara felt it in her spine before it happened. Her gaze swept the hall, landing briefly on Lady Kaushalya's poised smile, on Lord Viren's unreadable expression, on Vivaan's restless fingers circling the rim of his glass.

"A room full of silk and silver," Sitara thought. "But it only takes one shadow to drown a palace in blood."

Then came the scream.

A nobleman—Lord Anik, one of Vivaan's quiet supporters—slumped over his plate. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, staining the white grapes he never got to taste.

Panic fractured the room. Chairs clattered. Guards unsheathed their swords. Somewhere in the chaos, someone whispered "Poison."

Sitara didn't move.

Not yet.

She watched the way people reacted. Who stood too fast. Who stepped back. Who watched her.

Then, slowly, she rose.

"Seal the hall," she said. "No one leaves."

Vivaan looked at her sharply. The girl who once trembled before the court now stood taller than them all. Composed. Commanding.

"Sitara," he said under his breath, voice low with urgency, "this will make enemies."

"Good," she replied. "Then they'll stop pretending to be friends."

The guards hesitated. Then obeyed.

She stepped toward the body. Anik's hand was curled unnaturally beneath him. Gently, she pried it open.

A ring. Blackened with age, etched with a symbol she recognized from the scroll in the temple—twin flames crossing beneath a serpent.

The prophecy had not waited. It had begun.

She turned to the stunned room.

"No accusations," she said. "Not yet. But let it be known: this is not the act of a lone poisoner. This is the beginning of something older. And I will not let Aryagarh bleed in silence."

Gasps rippled like wind through dry grass.

Lady Kaushalya's voice, soft and measured, broke through the stillness:

"You speak of serpents and prophecy, Princess… but are we to follow visions, or justice?"

Sitara met her eyes, steel against silk.

"The poisoner followed neither. But I will follow the truth—even if it scorches every false smile in this room."

Vivaan watched her, something unreadable in his eyes. Pride? Fear? A trace of both.

"You've changed," he said quietly, almost to himself.

"No," Sitara replied, not looking at him. "I've simply stopped apologizing."

Viren, from the shadowed edge of the hall, said nothing. But his smile, faint and knowing, finally reached his eyes.

"And so the game begins," he murmured under his breath, raising his goblet—untouched—to his lips.

"Let the flames do what they do best."

Part – 2 "Whispers of Patience"

The room was thick with tension as Sitara gently sat on my lap, her warmth pressing against me. My hands around her waist carefully, lips tracing slow, teasing kisses along her neck and jaw leaving bite marks. Every touch, every brush of skin against skin sent a wave of heat through me.

Suddenly, I felt the unmistakable press on my arousal against her. My breath hitched slightly, but I tried to stay composed.

Sitara's hand froze for a moment, then she looked up at me with innocent curiosity, her eyes wide. "Is something the matter…?" she asked softly, voice lilting with concern.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady, but before I could answer, she smiled playfully and added, "You're swelling... should I help?"

Her hand moved without hesitation, lightly brushing over the arousal pressing through my pants, completely unaware of the electric shock she sent straight through my body.

I caught my breath, eyes darkening with a mix of surprise and desire. "Sitara," I whispered, my voice low, "you really have no idea what you're doing, do you?"

She just smiled again, eyes sparkling with mischief and innocence, and said softly, "Maybe you should teach me."

Then, her playful smile softened into something more serious. "We should at least wait till we get married."

Her words hit me like a splash of cold water, and suddenly I felt very aware—flushed, heart racing, the heat in me almost unbearable.

"I—I'm sorry," I stammered, stepping back slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. Without thinking, I turned and strode toward the nearby lake, needing to cool off—not just my body, but my swirling thoughts.

The cool breeze brushed over my skin as I stood by the water's edge, the rippling lake reflecting the moonlight. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The memory of Sitara's innocent touch and soft smile burned in my mind, and despite the cool night air, I could still feel the heat between us.

"Patience," I whispered to myself, "patience."

Back inside, Sitara watched me leave, her cheeks tinged with a soft pink. She bit her lip, a mixture of guilt and amusement swirling inside her. "Did I push too far?" she wondered, curling her fingers around the edge of the couch.

But she understood me—my restraint, my honor—and that only made her heart beat faster. "We should wait," she whispered to herself, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "But that doesn't mean I can't learn... someday."

Outside by the lake, I dipped my hands into the cool water, letting the chill seep through my skin and calm the fire inside. My mind replayed her touch—the innocent, teasing way she offered to 'help'—and a slow smile tugged at my lips despite the rush of desire.

"I'll wait," I murmured into the night air, "but I swear, Sitara… when the time comes,… I won't hold back, never… not even if you beg me."

The promise hung between the stars, a secret vow neither of us could forget.