The nebulousness inside was much more damned than she could have possibly imagined. Darkness so impenetrable that the faint moonbeams flitting through the windows and open corridors did nothing to quell her fear. On top of it, she was sprinting down the labyrinthine alleys and galleries of the palace with a stranger holding her hand. The touch was warm, and she indeed felt safe, but she was still apprehensive over the entire situation.

Despite her misgivings, she continued following him, gasping for breath once in a while and wiping the beads of sweat trickling down the sides of her temples and dampening her hair. But he didn't pay any attention as he led the way with a purpose in his gait, and the manner in which he was seamlessly meandering through the corridors had her question his sanity and hers.

They went past the foyer with the thick elephantine pillars, strode down the winding corridors interweaving with one another, ambled down the chambers of private audiences and the armoury, hopped beyond the section of commoners and the prince's residential quarters. They jumped up the steep stairs as she huffed and puffed, and they slunk down the tapering and narrow alleys on the second and third floors. She was amazed at the finesse with which he was moving stealthily and flawlessly despite nothing being perceptible at all. Almost as if he knew the map of the palace like the back of his hands.

She wheezed when they passed by a familiar gallery she had seen on her way to Meera's chambers the other day. "Where are you taking me?"

He remained silent and didn't even bother to stop or turn around.

She clicked her tongue and gasped for another breath, trying to keep up with his longer-than-necessary strides. "At least tell me your name. Who are you? How do you know the palace so well?"

He stayed quiet.

Impatience trickled in her brain, and she stomped her foot, resisting going ahead with him, and he was coerced into spinning around when he sensed the opposition. Even in the near-absolute darkness, he could perceive her silhouette due to the feeble rays of the moon flitting through the open balcony on their side.

"What?" he snapped. "Don't you get the urgency? He can be back any moment, and he is a ruthless man. He is not going to stand and wait for me to narrate all about my life to Her Highness. He is going to draw a sword and drive it through your heart."

She shivered at the coarseness of his tone. "But where are you taking me?" She glimpsed around. "I can barely see anything. How are you seeing stuff?"

He let out a groan. "I am a vampire, and I have a sensitive vision. Happy now?"

She clicked her tongue but didn't resist resuming the walk down the corridor once he wheeled and recommenced leading the way. A tapering and unlit passage beyond a pair of wooden panels serving as a door led them to the inner sanctum where royal women used to reside. The portico that she had seen being imbued in sunlight earlier now lay in complete darkness, and she could finally comprehend where she was—the antechamber to Meera's room. Her doubts were further cleared when he halted right in front of the chambers and cursed under his breath. She realized it was because of the gigantic lock hanging from the white-painted wooden door.

He unclasped his palm from hers and backed away. "I need to break the lock," he muttered. Rushing to the platform that encircled an ancient tree, he rummaged for something in the soil beyond the seating area fashioned out of stone. He was finally using the torch of his phone to search, and she heaved a sigh. At least he needed some artificial illumination to do the work. Probably not a blood-sucking vampire.

Crossing her arms across her chest, she said, "Thanks for saving me. Twice."

He grunted in response.

She scowled at his back. "You are just like Aarush." She rolled her eyes, missing the way his posture stiffened, and he froze to his spot. "What is the deal with the men in Suryagarh not responding to questions normally?"

He took a deep breath and picked up a massive boulder he had unearthed from the ground. Retracing his steps, not bothering to pay attention to her, he used the rock to land a fatal blow on the metallic lock. The clatter resonated in the empty hallways, and the lock fell limply to its side, slinging around the hoop for a few seconds before he pushed the door ajar and yanked her towards him.

"Ouch!" she shrieked, writhing in agony when his rough fingers brushed against the laceration on her skin. "Slow down!"

He didn't bother mustering an apology and thrust her inside. "Stay here, and lock the door from within. Under no circumstances, I repeat," he enunciated every word, "under no circumstances are you supposed to open the door. To anyone. Do you get it?"

Her lips parted in shock. "What do you mean? You are not leaving me all by myself inside a dead princess's haunted chamber, are you?"

He remained silent for a second, and she could hear the rash breathing from his side.

She snapped her fingers in front of him. "Excuse me? I am not going to be alone. You brought me here. You stay with me."

He hesitated to step inside, his foot languidly floating in midair as he vacillated over his decision. Until he took a deep breath and suspired. "I need to take care of a few things outside. The people of Suryagarh are in danger because of his goons. They have murdered and harmed many of Aarush Chauhan's security team. I need to go and help them, find the injured, take them to the hospital."

She gulped when she heard about the killings. "Is Aarush fine?"

He remained silent.

"Hmph!" She rolled her eyes. "Fine! Leave! He left me too, didn't he? You can leave too. I will be inside a dead princess's chamber, all by myself. For the rest of eternity."

Unwittingly, a chortle escaped his mouth. "I will get you out of here once the immortal is distracted enough and once the Holy Fire has been conjured again." He roamed his palms over the wooden casing of the door. "The immortal won't be able to enter Meera's chambers. So, you are perfectly secure as long as you remain inside. Hidden."

She frowned. "Why can't he enter?"

He shook his head in disappointment. "You are nothing like her, are you? Talking and talking and talking. Ceaseless questions and pointless comments."

Shock rattled her senses due to the remark. Sounding so similar to Aarush yet the gruffness in this man's cadence was much more intense than the gentlemanly manner in which the crowned prince usually spoke. Usually. However, something else tickled her brain too. "How do all of you know so much about a dead princess and her character traits? This is just so..." She shuddered and swallowed the bile rising up her throat. "Leave me alone."

He heaved a sigh. "I will be back to fetch you soon. You still need to hurl the necklace."

She blinked a few times until the thought hit her, and she slapped her forehead. "The necklace! Where is it? If it's on the rock, he will find it and take it with him. How will we break the curse?"

He remained silent.

"Mister whoever you are!" she screamed in frustration. "We forgot the necklace."

"It's in a secure place," he muttered. "The necklace is safe. You have to be safe too. Do not open the door to anyone other than me. And only when you hear the codeword from me, okay?"

She groaned. "What is the codeword?"

He faltered for a few moments, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times until a very painful and very strained whisper echoed off the walls. "Adrit."

And he was gone like the wind before she could blink an eye.

Confusion heightened inside her mind, and she shut the door in haste, bolting the latch from inside, and turning around to see Meera's room immersed in absolute and complete darkness. A wisp of dust rose from the ground and hit her nostrils, leading to a very raucous and very violent sneeze that left her shaking and wheezing, thereby overlooking the loud roar coming off from the front yard of the palace.

***

Aarush and Arnav heard the beastly vociferation, and their eyes widened in surprise. In a hurry, Aarush left his erstwhile best friend's collar and sprinted inside, crossing the threshold, and rushing across the sandstone flooring of the courtyard, aiming to reach the banks of the estuary where he had left the folks to finish the ritual. But even before he arrived at the spot, one glance from a certain distance away narrated everything that there was to be told. No Holy Fire could be seen raging in front of his eyes, and no one was standing on their feet. As soon as he halted in his steps, the air was sucked out of his lungs, for his sister was sprawled on the ground with her cheeks against the mud and her eyes shut.

He crouched down and pressed the side of her neck with his quivering fingers. A sigh of relief escaped his nostrils, and he shut his eyes for a moment to revel in the knowledge. She was still alive and breathing fine. He glimpsed around himself once Arnav was kind enough to use his phone's torchlight to let the powerful beams be concentrated over each of the three other people. Aarush went around one by one to check on them, and he was relieved to discover that all of them were doing well. They were just knocked out. Much to his displeasure, even Aryan Sethi was only knocked out and not dead yet.

However, he was alerted instantly at the thought, and he looked around the spot in a frenzy. "Miss Awasthy?" he called out into the night. "Shreya?" His voice trembled a bit. "Shreya? Princess? Where are you?"

No one answered yet again.

"Dammit!" he muttered under his breath.

Arnav peeked around too, perceiving the charred ground under his feet. "He was here," he mumbled. "Uncle Adhyayan was here and probably took Shreya Awasthy with him."

Aarush raked his hands through his hair in exasperation as his gaze furiously darted back and forth between his sister and Radha. "No... no, he didn't... He can't hurt her. Not again... Not again..." He perspired profusely and tried to calm the ravaging tempest in his mind so that he would be able to think straight and come up with a second line of action instead of muttering like a hysterical man. However, the only things racing hither and thither in his brain were the images of a dead girl, her blue lips, her frail and limp body, the pallor on her skin, the pyre on which she was laid, the fire that had consumed her, licking her skin and rendering her into a pile of ashes. "No!" The agonized scream coming out of his mouth permeated through the air of Suryagarh.

Arnav shook his head and huffed. "Better sense should prevail, Aarush. You have no idea what you are messing with. Stop trying to break the curse, and don't try to derail his plans. He will have no qualms about annihilating every last citizen of Suryagarh to fulfil his motives. He will not spare Shauryagarh, Ranakgarh, and Sumedhnagar as well. Millions of humans, Aarush. Innocent humans." He left the spot without waiting for Aarush to respond.

Minutes passed, and Aarush was hunkered by the side of his sister, as unmoving as a statue. His cognitive abilities had abandoned him as the images of the dead princess's burning pyre continued to torment and haunt him. What if... what if... Shreya would be... on a pyre... too...

Radha's eyes flickered open around the same time that Jagdish regained consciousness. As both of them staggered to their feet simultaneously, holding their heads in their hands, scrunching their noses due to the pounding headache and body pain, checking their ageing bones to make sure nothing had cracked, it was the priest whose eyes fell on the crowned prince holding the princess's palms and drawing circles on her cheeks under the faint radiance from the moon.

"Your Highness!" Jagdish screamed and rushed to Aarush's side. "Is Princess Adya okay?"

Aarush finally took note of the magicians. Elder Woman was hobbling towards him while the high priest had a firm hold of the hand on his shoulders. They had scrapes and cuts on their cheeks and foreheads, but they were largely unharmed. "Adya is fine," he muttered. "He took Shreya with her. And I don't know... what do to."

Radha frowned. "Adhyayan?"

Aarush nodded.

Jagdish's expression turned sombre.

However, Radha shook her head. "No, Aarush. She is not with Adhyayan. I would have felt it had she been captured by the lunatic. When I was talking to her earlier in the evening, I linked her to myself. If she is scared, I will feel it. If she is in pain, I will sense it too. If she is happy, I will be able to discern that as well. And at this moment," she beamed, "Shreya is just a tad bit anxious and," she narrowed her eyes, "she is in a bit of pain as well. Her..." She sighed. "Okay... I see..." She shut her eyes. "Her arm has a deep bruise, and she is bleeding. She is very... very..."

"Squeamish?" Aarush respired raggedly and sprang to his feet. "She feels... feels squeamish around blood."

Radha bobbed her head. "Yes... yes... she is feeling revolted due to the dampness caused by the blood. But," she opened her eyes and grinned, "she is thinking about you. And she is praying for your safety. She is alright."

He sighed in relief all over again, bowing his head down to gape at his shoes. "Where is she?"

***

She remained sitting on the dirty and mucky ground inside the cobweb-riddled chamber. She had been confined inside a dead princess's room for well over three days—it had been twenty minutes—and she had not eaten a morsel of food in over fifteen months—it was barely two hours. She had lost gallons of blood—probably under a few millilitres—and she was steadily losing consciousness—she was not. As she continued to tap her feet on the dust-coated floor, her knees tucked close to her chest and her arms around her legs, she rested her cheek on her thighs and whined. She had chosen to stay back in Suryagarh, falling into a trap with blood rituals on the way, and that ridiculous, arrogant, cruel monster assured her that not even a single scratch would come up on her body. Yet, she was struggling to stay alive with that deep wound on her arms that would never stop bleeding for the rest of time—it had already stopped bleeding ten minutes ago.

But then her heart wasn't able to control the concern and worry for the conceited prince. His rage was pathetic, yes, but his gazes full of tenderness and affection held the power to turn her into a mush. She didn't know which one was the real Aarush Chauhan—she didn't wish to at the moment—but she was glad there were numerous shades to his character than just the cool facade of detachment he displayed in front of everyone. And much to her joy, he had managed to exhibit quite a few emotions in front of her in the last four days—a childish attitude, raillery, unconditional surrender, towering wrath, affection, ego, and naivety.

She let out a watery giggle and admitted to herself. She had a very sweet and very potent crush on the crowned prince of Suryagarh, and within the span of four days, he had begun meaning so much more to her than just a random stranger inviting her to lunch. As her palms came together in supplication, her lips mumbled prayers for his safety, she could hear the distinct thudding footsteps in the corridor outside.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up in alarm, and she sat straighter, ensuring not to make a single movement.

The footsteps echoed off the walls and in the vastness of the empty corridors, stopping right in front of the wooden door behind which she lay concealed and safe. She forgot to breathe and continued to strain her ears in rapt attention.

Murmurs resonated on the other end before a sharp rap landed on the door. "Shreya..."

Warmth seeped throughout her body upon listening to his voice, and she stood up in a very unsteady fashion, lurching and stumbling. "Princey? Is that you?"

"Yes, Shreya. It's me. Come out. We need to finish the ritual."

Her brows furrowed in bafflement. Yes, it was his voice. Yes, it gave her butterflies in the stomach. Yes, it had warmed her heart. But something was amiss. The man she had known for the last four days was hell-bent on finishing the ritual, yes, but his first question would have been to seek clarity on her health and mental state. The inquiry didn't come from his side. The warning signals in her mind were asking her to stay put and wait for the mystery man. She would just need to hear the codeword from him to ensure it was no trap. But then she stowed the unnecessary thought away. She knew Aarush Chauhan much better than the mystery man from Sumedhnagar. "Aarush..."

"Yes, Shreya." He knocked again. "I am right here."

She gulped and licked her lips. "Can I ask you something?"

"Now?"

"Yes."

"Sure, ask away."

She steadied her fingers. "What's the shape of the birthmark I have?"

He chuckled—so warm, so familiar, so amiable. "A chalice. What else!"

She let out the breath she was holding and hopped to reach the door, sliding the latch, and throwing the panels open before striding out. However, much to her surprise, there was no one standing beyond the threshold. Darkness and emptiness—absolute and complete—all around her, and she could barely perceive a shadow or a silhouette. Her heart started pulsating at an accelerated pace, and her instinct was to turn and head back inside the chambers, shutting the door and not opening it for anyone other than the mystery man. The goosebumps rising along her arms and the tingling in the pit of her stomach provided her with enough discomfiture in the utter quietude, and she spun at her spot before her heart could've jumped out of her mouth.

A small shriek of startlement left her throat when she saw him. Adhyayan Chauhan. A smirk etched on his lips, the light from his phone's torch falling on his devilishly handsome features, and the beastly glint shining in his eyes.

Her orbs widened in fear, her lips trembled, and she began breathing rashly while her heart thumped beyond control. She was taking sceptical and wobbly steps backwards while her entire form convulsed and she was rendered a sweating mess. "You... you tricked me."

He chortled. "Do you really believe Aarush Chauhan would come for you? To save you? Yeah, sure," he rolled his eyes, "he needs you for breaking the curse, but," he grinned, "he loathes this face to the extent that would scare you, Miss Awasthy. I bet he is minutes away from killing you with his bare hands, and the moment you hurl that necklace into the fire, he is going to rip your heart out of your chest."

She gasped and whimpered when her waist hit a nearby balustrade. Her voice shook with trepidation. "You are lying." She sniffled. "He doesn't hate me. He will not kill me. He will never let anything happen to me because he... he..." She respired deeply. "I look like her, and he loves her a bit too much."

He clicked his tongue in sympathy and shook his head in despair. "That's the root cause of the issue, Miss Awasthy. You look like her, and if sources are to be believed," he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "he can do anything... anything... to go back in time and murder Meera using Abhimanyu's sword." He smirked. "And I am sure he will derive pleasure from killing you too, but," his facade dropped and viciousness overtook his features as he sneered, "not if I kill you first."

Her shrill cries reverberated off the walls of Agni Bhawan before everything fell silent.