It took Aarush a couple of seconds of stupor to comprehend what the man was talking about. But when he indeed understood the gravity of the situation, his hold around the kurta's collar loosened, and he stepped back.

Balwant Singh collapsed on his knees yet again and began weeping, sobbing, and wailing.

Aarush raked his hands through his hair, his gaze furiously darting between the gigantic lock on the door to Meera's chambers and the sandstone railing adjacent to the room. Incredulity was etched on his features, and the way he was respiring rashly conveyed well to Shreya that whoever had died was of utmost importance to him. For the blood ritual. "No..." he muttered. "This can't be happening. No."

Shreya brought her trembling fingers to his shoulders, hovering in midair, and contemplating if she should even touch him let alone ask questions or speak words of consolation, for he was definitely simmering with wrath.

"No..." He groaned. "No!" Lunging his phone across the hall, watching it shatter into quite a few big chunks, he grabbed Balwant Singh's collar again. The menacing fury from earlier returned, and he nearly choked the man. Again. "How did this happen?"

Balwant Singh gulped and let out a croaky mumble, "They got to him before I could." He coughed due to the stronghold of a pair of palms around his throat. "I... I tried to..."

"Aarush, you are going to kill him," Shreya shrieked. "Leave him, and let him speak."

"How did it happen?" Aarush's decibels went up. So did the tautness of his hands around the man's neck.

And that was the limit to Shreya's patience as she strode up to the incensed and enraged man. No longer was she wary of stopping him from exhibiting his anger and fearing it would be directed towards her. A surge of confidence within her and a moment of recklessness later, she placed a firm hand on the prince's upper arm. "You are going to kill him. Leave him."

Aarush's bloodshot eyes went to her for a second, intense rage shimmering in those attractive pair of orbs. "Do you think I fucking care?" he hissed. Centering his focus on the gasping Balwant Singh, he screamed again, "How did you let this happen, you utter fool?"

Balwant Singh's feeble voice floated in their ears. "They... blood... he... they did..." He coughed again as his face scrunched up in pain with a bright tinge of crimson highlighting his struggle for every breath, and his eyes rolled up.

Shreya was coerced into applying pressure to tug Aarush's hands away from the poor man's throat. "Stop!" she yelled. "Leave him. Right now!"

Aarush was taken aback by the force and certitude with which she spoke, and he peered at her. She was as angry as him, breathing as rashly out of infuriation as him, glowering at him and challenging him to back down. The pool of ferocity glittering in her otherwise cheerful eyes had him confounded. His hold around Balwant Singh loosened, and he took a step back.

Balwant Singh coughed and gasped, holding onto his neck and respiring heavily, taking a minute to calm his racing heart, and allowing the organ to pump blood that would let oxygen propagate properly to every cell in his body.

Shreya sighed in relief and cast a pitiful glance at the troubled man before her hands went to hold the shoulders of a very distressed prince. "Calm down. You would have killed him."

He shrugged her off him. "Stay out of this," he muttered. "And you!" he nearly spat at the royal guard. "Speak! Right now!"

Balwant Singh sniffled and kept his head bowed down, his palms joined together. His weak voice was barely audible over the distant chitter-chatter of the tourists. "I talked to him right before leaving for Rampur. He sounded fine. He told me he..." The guard wheezed. "Apologies, Your Highness." Wiping his nose with the back of his hand, he continued. "He told me he was ready to serve the throne, and he was going to await my presence in his house. One hour. That's all it took me to go from Suryagarh to Rampur. And... and..."

"And?" Aarush hollered.

"Aarush," Shreya bit her lips and placed her hand on his shoulder again, "calm down. Please. He is trying to speak, but you are intimidating him."

Aarush didn't shrug her off this time around and listened to what Balwant Singh had to say.

"When I reached his home, the main door was broken, furniture and cushions were sprawled and all over the place, and Dharamraj... Dharamraj..."

Aarush groaned and cursed under his breath. "And Dharamraj?"

Balwant Singh flinched, and his shoulders slumped. "He was lying in a pool of blood, Prince. In a pool... of his own blood. No pulse, Prince. I... I did not find any pulse."

As still as a piece of stone, as unmoving as a statue, Aarush remained standing there, towering over the crouched and curled form of the man who had broken into a fit of sobs and was wailing with his hands banging the floor. Shreya heard the rasping breath escaping Aarush's throat and watched his jaws clench.

"Dish out any punishment you deem fit for me, Your Highness." Balwant Singh trembled. "I have erred, and I shall be dealt with accordingly."

Aarush strolled away from the girl and the quivering man, lazily raking his eyes around the chambers. "How did they learn of Dharamraj and his location?"

Suppressed rage, very evident in the cadence, his palms clenched into fists, ready to rip anyone apart. Shreya was certain had she not been standing here, Balwant Singh would've already been lying in a similar pool of blood he had seen in Rampur. The cold tingles down her spine at the mere thought told her to stay away from the crowned prince. He was nothing like what met the eye. Arrogant and gentlemanly, yes, but also inhumane and cruel.

"I... I am not aware, Your Highness," Balwant Singh said. "One hour. Within an hour, they somehow traced him and..."

Shreya intervened when she discerned the vein popping on Aarush's forehead. He was seconds away from losing the temper he had somehow reined in. She strode up to Balwant Singh. Though her Hindi was broken and she had a thick accent, she managed to articulate. "Go! Now! He is furious at the moment."

"He can kill me if he wants." Balwant Singh cried. "I erred. He has all the rights to."

"Damn right I do," Aarush muttered.

Shreya huffed. "I said go away from here. Do you legit want to die? Go!"

Balwant Singh snivelled once before standing up, bowing deeply in front of the woman, mumbled a word of thanks, took three steps backwards without turning, and finally swerved to hobble away with as much celerity as he could muster.

Once his thudding footsteps receded, she let out a shaky breath and turned to the prince. His back was to her while his palms were clasped around a metal bar serving as a scaffolding to keep the ancient structure well balanced. The way the muscles of the back of his hand clenched, she was once again cautioned by her sixth sense. Do not cross him. Do not talk to him. Do not get involved with him.

But she chose to disregard the warnings. "Who is the man who died? Why did his death make you this angry?"

He chuckled humorlessly. "Dharamraj Singh Saini was the last of Meera's bloodline." His bloodshot eyes were back at her for a moment before he looked away. "With him dead, there is no one left in this world whose blood can be used in the ritual. Unless we have Meera's living descendant's blood, we can't tap into her memories via you. If we don't know where the artefact is, we can't break the curse. Therefore, the only hope of saving my sister," he scoffed, "is literally lying in a pool of blood in Rampur."

Her hand flew to her mouth once she comprehended the gravity of the situation. She was no longer able to loathe him for exhibiting extreme temper in the spur of the moment. Any brother, desperately seeking one last chance to save his dying sister, would be massively disappointed at the sudden turn of events at the very last second. However, the manner of conveying his dissatisfaction was unbecoming of his stature and repute. "Uh... I am so... so sorry. Are you okay?"

He remained silent, tapping his feet on the sandstone floor.

She bobbed her head. "What next? Any plan B or—"

"This was the only plan we had."

"I am sure there is another way to locate the artefact."

"There's none."

"Probably a journal that Meera left, detailing some of her experiences and knowledge?"

"None. No journal. We never had all the components with us to locate the artefact either. Earlier, we had Dharamraj but not Meera's essence. Now that we have Meera..."

The way his voice trailed away created ripples of disappointment in her heart too, and she was on the verge of rushing up to him and scooping him in a hug, for he was in dire need of one. His drooped shoulders and deafening silence narrated oodles about the distraught state of mind he was in. Twenty years of gruelling wait to save Adya and seek revenge for the murder of his parents culminated in a gargantuan failure, and he was probably going to lose the last family he had.

Before she could act on her impulse and provide him with an affable and comforting hug, she heard it. The buzzing in her ears, the murmurs spoken in a strange language that sounded familiar but she didn't understand any of it, the hums and drones—disembodied voices whispering to her. But then there was no one around, and this was surely not the distinct and distant chitter-chatter of the tourists flocking the fort.

She twirled at the spot to discern another soul, another human who was trying to whisper to her, convey a message to her perhaps, but except for the silent and dejected Aarush, she didn't find anyone. However, the feeling of being watched intensified, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

"What's that?" she said.

He didn't look at her. "What?"

"This... this buzzing. The humming. Where is it coming from?" Her eyes widened in fear of the unknown. "This is not a haunted fort, is it? These are not ghosts whispering to me, right?"

The stark dread and anxiety in her tonality prompted him to finally peek at her. "No. We have lived here for centuries. Not a single inch of this fort is haunted."

"But I heard these rumblings that are telling me to... to..."

"To?"

"To discover!" she exclaimed before she could grasp anything.

He frowned. "Discover what?"

She bit her lips and pondered. The murmurings had suddenly and unceremoniously halted, and she could again hear the tourists at a distance. "Nothing..." She shook her head to get rid of the slight misjudgment. "Nothing."

He let out a puff of air. "I have a few meetings to attend. Let me drop you at the palace first. Our work here is," he eyed the locked chambers of Meera, "done."

***

The walk back to Suryagarh Palace was as quiet as ever, and the air of despondency hung between them, separating them more than the physical distance of one foot that existed as she continued sauntering two steps behind him. They stopped in front of the resort, for Suyash Singh spotted the prince and came up to him to surreptitiously pass on some information that Shreya couldn't quite catch. Once the men were done discussing everything in hushed whispers, Aarush gestured at the girl, and the employee understood the order issued to him in a jiffy.

Aarush turned to Shreya. "Suyash Singh is going to escort you back to the palace. I have some other matters to tend to. Accept my heartfelt apologies."

Within the blink of an eye, before she could get a word out of her mouth, he began striding down the portico of the resort and disappearing behind the revolving doors to the foyer.

Shreya found herself in the company of a grinning Suyash Singh, and he motioned at her to start treading down the side alley that would lead them to the palace. She took the hint and began ambling, and they were nearly halfway across when her gaze fell on another gigantic campus encircled by sturdy boundary walls behind the resort's premises. She could make out the facades of structures and buildings of what looked like bungalows to her, and she was intrigued. "What's that campus for?"

Suyash Singh took a peek in the direction she had jutted her chin at. "Those are the staff quarters. Everyone employed by His Highness lives here."

She beamed. "Which one is your home?"

He giggled. "Mine is at the other side. Not visible from here, madam."

She noticed how he was flustering and fiddling with his fingers, and she was reminded of how he had been behaving similarly back inside Agni Bhawan when she asked Aarush to click her pictures. "Why were you pleading with me not to say anything to Mr. Chauhan when he was taking my pics?"

The colour vanished from his face, and he was licking his lips, biting his tongue, shaking his head.

"Mr. Singh?" She smiled. "What happened back there?"

He took a deep breath. Nervous he was, but he managed to muster some words. "He is the crowned prince of Suryagarh, madam. You asked him to click your pictures. It's... it's..."

Her brows shot up. "Ah! Princey is not supposed to take orders from anyone, is it?"

He chuckled but kept his head down. "Something along those lines. It's not the protocol. If you are ever in need of getting your pictures clicked, feel free to hand over your phone to me or anyone else you see in the vicinity. We will be pleased to serve you."

She suppressed a snicker. "Oh! Noted."

He led her up the stairs from the portico, punched in the security pin, bowed in front of her once the wooden doors parted, and left the spot in haste.

She stepped inside and heaved a sigh. "Princey is not supposed to take orders from anyone," she drummed her fingers on her lips, "but Princey did not complain and rather clicked fabulous pictures for me." She giggled as butterflies danced in her tummy. "Princey, you are a package full of mystery, and... and I am going to get to the bottom of this puzzle named His Highness Prince Aarush Singh Chauhan."

***

When Aarush returned home to check up on Shreya after the string of meetings were done and dusted, it was to find her plopped on one of the comfortable couches in the living room with her legs crossed and a book in her hands. She was busy reading through the contents of the fantasy novel he was quick to recognize since it belonged to Adya's collection in their library.

She had taken no note of him entering and was rather narrowing her eyes at the printed sheets with her lips puckered as she perused the chapters with utmost concentration.

He cleared his throat. When her head snapped in his direction and she offered him a smile, he looked away. "Lunch?"

She waved her hands. "I have had it. Your kitchen staff is so kind and nice. They cooked a very complicated Rajasthani meal for me, and it was so yum!"

Despite the weight sitting firmly on his chest, he found smiling at her very normal and very easy. He took the couch across from hers.

"And," she waved the tome in her hands, "I took this from the library. I hope you and Adya don't mind."

He shook his head.

"Those pictures you clicked for me," she beamed, "they came out very nice. I bet I will receive tons of compliments from my followers."

"Hmmm."

"I will post them after I go back."

"Hmmm."

"Do you want me to give you pic credits?" She gasped. "Are you even on social media?"

"Hmmm."

"Talks less," she muttered under her breath and clicked her tongue. Pouting at his lack of enthusiasm, she said, "You should consider clicking more pictures of me. You are pretty good. And... I am pretty. So..."

His brows shot up. "Hmmm?"

She giggled. "Hmmm." Once he began mindlessly toying with his fingers, she said, "Did you eat?"

He shook his head.

Her head tilted to a side as she took a good look at him. He hadn't glanced away for a change. "You okay?"

A profound, elongated, raspy breath later, he again shook his head.

She suspired. "Don't lose hope. I am sure there is another way."

He picked up the newspaper lying on the centre table. "Hmmm."

She clicked her tongue, let her head roll back and touch the cushion, groaned, and tugged at her hair. "I hate you! I hate you so much, Princey!"

He grinned at the nickname she had so casually thrown at him. The kinds of liberty the girl was taking with him were baffling, yes, but what puzzled him more was his reaction to all of it. No anger. No irritation. Just plain amusement. "And why do you hate me?"

"You are back to being boring." She flashed her eyes at him. "You were showing me around so enthusiastically hours ago. I agree," she sat up straighter and drew her legs to herself, "that your plans went haywire, but I am sure we are going to fix everything. I have a strong feeling it will be alright in the end."

"I need more information before I can have that firm a belief."

"Information? From?"

"The head priest. He was the one who gleaned this information about the curse and the method to break it. He might have some alternative... route we can take." He took his shiny new phone out of his pocket. "But," he mumbled, "the head priest is not taking my calls at the moment."

"Oh my goodness!" She snorted. "Someone has the audacity to ignore your calls? I can't believe it. The great, the mighty, the ferocious, His Highness Aarush Chauhan got snubbed. He got snubbed real bad."

He didn't miss the cheekiness in her voice, and he was seconds away from grinning at her. However, another call that went unanswered by the high priest, coupled with the girl's audacious teasing, had him miffed. "It's not that I talk less, Miss Awasthy. It's just that you talk too much. Always spouting, and always spouting nonsense."

Her joviality died instantly, and she twisted her lips at him. A scowl came up on her features, and she went back to reading the book. "At least I don't bore someone to death with their silence and glares and pointless anger."

"Was that directed at me?"

She was irked by the sudden burst of raillery in his intonation. "Do you see anyone else here?" She huffed. "Anyway, who is this high priest?"

"A very powerful and a very knowledgeable man. He has been the high priest of Suryagarh and the leader of the Society of Protectors for thirty years now. But," he clicked his tongue, "he is not in Suryagarh at the moment. So, until he returns, I can't let him know about the catastrophe that has transpired with Dharamraj."

She leaned ahead and propped her elbows on her knees as her fingers went to her chin. "You didn't tell me what this Society of Protectors does."

He eyed her for a moment before going back to scrolling on his phone.

"Ugh!" She slumped back on the couch. "There is no limit to the levels of annoying you can become, isn't it, Princey?"

He had to bite his cheeks to prevent himself from snickering.

She pouted and scowled at his lack of response. All over again. She couldn't believe he had been opening up to her only a couple of hours ago, but that wretched news had rendered him to close himself in a shell yet again. "Do the Protectors try to protect the princesses of the family?"

His gaze flew to her, and his fists clenched. "Well, indirectly, yes."

"And directly?"

"They protect the people of the estate from him." His eyes darkened. "He, who is the source of all our troubles. He, who can't let us live in peace. He, who is hell-bent on ruining the peace and tranquillity in this world. He, who can burn everything down in his anger directed towards Suryagarh."

She wiggled his brows at him. "And who is this he?"

"He, who cast the curse and is responsible for the loss of too many lives to keep a count on."