Arjun trudged back toward the palace after his morning practice, his steps slower than usual. His muscles ached, and the sting of sweat blurred his vision slightly, but he barely noticed.

In his mind, he was replaying the farewell scene from yesterday, convinced that with the departure of the Panchaal baraat, the end of his so-called “betrothed” had come too. He sighed with relief.

Finally, he could go about his days without his brothers’ relentless teasing, without the whispers from the maids and ministers about his future “wife.”

But as he stepped onto the garden path, his heart stopped.

There, in the middle of the royal rose garden, was Draupadi.

She was chasing a butterfly, its wings flickering like a tiny flame above the flowers. The roses bloomed in vibrant colors around her—blush pink, deep scarlet, pale ivory—each one open and fragrant, an ocean of petals rustling in the morning breeze.

Draupadi moved among them with delicate grace, her tiny feet treading carefully between the thorny stems as she tried, again and again, to catch the elusive butterfly.

Her dark hair was free and loose, cascading down her back, and her dress, the color of twilight, swirled around her like a wisp of smoke.

Arjun stopped, watching her in stunned silence. She looked so… out of place, almost otherworldly, like she’d stepped straight out of a story his mother had told him once. And yet, there she was, very much real, in his garden.

“You didn’t go?” he found himself blurting out, the words escaping before he could think to stop them.

At the sound of his voice, she froze, her hands suspended midair as the butterfly slipped past her fingers. Slowly, Draupadi turned, her eyes wide as she took him in, and then—Arjun’s heart skipped a beat—her cheeks bloomed with color, a soft pink that deepened as she looked down, shyly biting her lip.

She was… adorable.

Arjun had never thought he’d use that word for anyone, let alone her.

But there she was, so tiny and unsure , glancing up at him only to quickly look away, her lashes casting shadows over her cheeks.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Arjun shifted on his feet, feeling oddly nervous, though he didn’t understand why.

He was supposed to be a prince, a warrior in training—what did he have to be nervous about? Especially in front of her.

“So… you didn’t leave,” he repeated, clearing his throat, hoping to break the silence.

Draupadi shook her head, her fingers clasped tightly in front of her.

It was then that he noticed her dress was stained with smudges of dirt and tiny tears where she’d brushed against thorns in her butterfly chase.

He almost wanted to smile. Here was this girl, supposedly “the most beautiful in all the lands,” and she was covered in dirt, her hair messy and tangled. Yet, somehow, that only made her look… endearing.

“You’re… staying here?” he asked, the realization dawning on him, and with it, an odd weight settled in his chest.

Draupadi nodded slowly, and her gaze flitted up to meet his briefly, her eyes dark as the starry night. Entrapping and Captivating.

She still hadn’t spoken a word, though, and that made Arjun wonder. Had he been paired with a mute girl? The thought made him frown, both in curiosity and in frustration.

“Are you… are you mute?” he asked, trying to be serious but unable to keep the slight smirk off his face. The idea was too funny to resist.

A flash of irritation crossed Draupadi’s face, and she glared at him, her cheeks puffing out just a little in annoyance.

Without warning, she grabbed a fallen rose from the ground, and before he could react, she hurled it at him.

The soft petals hit his chest, scattering in all directions, and he stood there, dumbfounded.

“Oh, so not mute, then?” he said, raising an eyebrow, his lips curling into a grin.

Draupadi huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. She lifted her chin, trying to look dignified, though the effect was ruined by a smear of dirt across her nose.

“Well, you’re rude,” she finally spoke, her voice soft and surprisingly fierce for someone so small. Her words caught him off guard, and for a split second, he found himself at a loss.

“What… what did I do?” he protested, holding his hands up in mock innocence, his tone playful.

“You called me mute,” she replied with an indignant pout, her voice full of the kind of offense that only a child could muster. “And I am not mute. I just didn’t feel like talking to you.”

Arjun laughed, genuinely amused now. He felt something warm unfurling in his chest—a strange, new feeling that was a mix of admiration and… pride? Here was a girl who wasn’t afraid to stand up to him, prince or not.

“Oh really?” he challenged, taking a few steps closer, his grin widening. “And why wouldn’t you want to talk to me?”

Draupadi’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink. She glanced away, nervously brushing her fingers against the petals of a nearby rose. “Because… because you’re a boy.”

Arjun blinked. “So?”

“Boys are mean,” she declared, her nose crinkling slightly as if he were some sort of strange creature.

“They don’t know anything about butterflies, or flowers, or…” She trailed off, frowning as if trying to think of something else boys didn’t know.

Arjun chuckled. “Oh, is that what you think? Maybe we know more than you think, Princess Draupadi.”

Draupadi crossed her arms tighter, lifting her chin defiantly. “And maybe you don’t know anything at all, Prince Arjun.”

Her words, though simple, stung just a little—enough to make him step back, surprised. No one ever spoke to him like this. No one ever challenged him like she did.

“Fine,” he said, unable to resist the grin tugging at his lips. “But I don’t want to know about butterflies, anyway.”

“Oh?” Draupadi raised an eyebrow, her hands on her hips, mimicking the stance of the palace attendants when they were scolding a servant. “What do you want to know, then?”

“I want to know why you’re here,” he said, surprising himself with the question.

For a moment, Draupadi hesitated, looking down at her feet.

“Because…” she began softly, then stopped, the fierceness fading from her eyes. “Because my mother said… I’m supposed to be here with you.”

Her voice was so quiet, so full of vulnerable honesty, that Arjun felt a strange twinge in his chest.

He didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t know what any of this meant.

He just knew that there was something different about her, something he couldn’t quite explain.

“Well,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, “I guess that means… we’re stuck with each other, huh?”

Draupadi looked up at him then, and for the first time, she smiled—a shy, hesitant smile that made her face light up like the sunrise. And despite himself, Arjun found his own mouth curving into a smile in response.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” she whispered, almost to herself, though he heard her.

And as they stood there in the garden, surrounded by blooming roses and dancing butterflies, two young hearts began to understand, in the smallest, simplest way, that their lives were bound together in a way neither could change.

They didn’t know what that meant. They didn’t need to. Not yet.

For now, there was just a boy and a girl, and the warm, uncertain beginnings of a bond that would one day shake the world.

As Arjun stared at Draupadi, a mischievous thought crept into his mind. A betrothed—a fiancée—was supposed to mean someone who stuck by your side, who listened to you.

Maybe she was someone he could boss around, or at least someone who’d agree with him instead of teasing him like his brothers. Finally, he thought, someone who’d have to do what I say!

He cleared his throat, puffing up his chest. “So,” he started, adopting his most princely tone, “since you’re supposed to be… you know, my fiancée, that means you have to listen to me.”

Draupadi, who’d gone back to watching the butterflies flit through the garden, looked at him with her eyebrows raised.

“Listen to you?” She wrinkled her nose, eyeing him up and down as though she wasn’t entirely sure why she’d have to listen to him of all people.

“Yes! Because that’s what… betrothed people do!” he said, trying his best to sound knowledgeable.

Draupadi gave him a skeptical look. “And who told you that?”

“Uh… no one. But it just makes sense,” he said with a shrug. “If you’re going to be my wife, you’ll have to follow my orders. Like a—like a soldier,” he added, clearly improvising as he went.

Draupadi’s face twisted into an expression of horror.

“A soldier?” She scowled at him, crossing her arms with that same fierce look she’d given him before. “You can’t order me around. And besides, I’m not a soldier!”

“Not yet,” Arjun said, smirking, “but you could be! And then you’d have to listen to me.”

“Why would I want to be a soldier for you? I’m a princess!” Draupadi huffed, her cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink. “You should listen to me.”

Arjun blinked, taken aback. No one ever challenged him like that. “But I’m going to be the greatest archer! I’m practically already in charge here.”

“Then go practice your silly bow and arrow!” Draupadi scoffed, sticking her tongue out.

Arjun was stunned silent for a second, a pout forming on his face. “Silly? The bow and arrow isn’t silly! And I bet you don’t even know what it is!”

“Of course I know what it is! But catching butterflies is much more important.” She huffed and turned her back on him, arms still crossed tightly over her chest.

Arjun rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. How are butterflies more important than saving kingdoms?”

“Because!” Draupadi shot back, her tone as if stating the most obvious fact. “Butterflies are pretty.”

The simplicity of her answer left Arjun dumbfounded. He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking she might have a point, but he wasn’t going to admit it. No way. Not to her.

“Fine,” he said, shrugging. “You catch butterflies, I’ll save kingdoms.”

“Good,” she replied, nodding as if she’d won a grand debate.

There was a brief silence as they each turned away, both pretending not to notice the other.

Arjun, still feeling oddly embarrassed, took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. He wasn’t about to let her have the last word.

“You know,” he started, crossing his arms, “when you grow up and we’re… well… married, you won’t be able to run around gardens catching butterflies.”

Draupadi whipped around, her eyes widening. “Why not?” she demanded, a mixture of horror and defiance in her expression.

“Because queens don’t do things like that!” he said with a smirk. “Queens do important things, like… giving orders and signing scrolls and… things.” He wasn’t exactly sure what those “things” were, but they sounded serious enough.

Draupadi looked horrified. “Well, I think queens should do whatever they want,” she declared, tossing her hair back.

“And I think queens should listen to their kings,” he countered, his smirk growing. “So you’d better start practicing now.”

“Oh, really?” Draupadi said, raising an eyebrow. “Then you better practice listening to me, because I’m going to be the queen!”

They both glared at each other, arms crossed, neither willing to back down.

After a few long seconds, Arjun let out a sigh, rolling his eyes. “Fine. You can… do whatever you want.” He wasn’t sure why he said it, but there was something about the way her face softened when he did that made him feel oddly pleased.

Draupadi’s expression shifted to one of surprised delight. “Really?”

Arjun shifted uncomfortably, feeling warmth creep up his neck. “Yeah… I guess. But don’t go telling everyone I let you win, okay?”

Draupadi giggled, the sound light and musical, like the chiming of little bells. She stepped closer, her tiny hand reaching out to lightly tug at his angvastra.

“Thank you, Prince Arjun,” she said in a playful, exaggerated tone, like she’d heard the palace attendants use with her parents.

Arjun blushed, quickly pulling his sleeve away, mumbling something under his breath. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

But as Draupadi turned back to her butterflies, Arjun watched her for a moment, feeling a strange sense of pride.

Perhaps having a betrothed wasn’t all bad, especially if she was as stubborn as she was… and if she could stand up to him like no one else dared.

“Hey!” he called after her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You still don’t know how to catch butterflies properly. You’re just scaring them away.”

Draupadi shot him a challenging glare. “Oh, yeah? I bet I’m better at catching butterflies than you are at anything!”

Arjun snorted. “Fine! I’ll show you how it’s done.” And without thinking, he jumped forward, hands reaching out as he attempted to scoop a butterfly out of the air.

The butterfly easily evaded his grasp, fluttering away gracefully, and Arjun stumbled forward, landing in a less-than-graceful heap on the ground.

Draupadi burst into laughter, her voice ringing across the garden as Arjun picked himself up, trying to look dignified but failing miserably. “See?” she giggled. “Maybe you should stick to your silly arrows.”

Arjun couldn’t help but laugh too, brushing the dirt off his clothes. “Fine, you win… this time.” He grinned, unable to shake the feeling that, somehow, this wasn’t such a bad start after all. . .

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