(The begining fight scene of this chapter is inspired by Loki series - Season 1)

***

Ishan, his eyes red with fury, had almost separated Shubman's head, but Shubman pushed him away, making him fall down on the ground. He had realised that Ishan wouldn't stop at any costs, and trying to have a conversation with him at least in the moment would be utter stupidity. He would have to wait, calm him down before trying to speak.

By the time he got back up, Shubman was standing before him with his golden sword poised. Ishan's sword struck his, and they remained locked together, metal against metal. Shubman looked into his eyes, hoping to persuade him to stop. But Ishan wouldn’t stop. He pulled away from Shubman and struck with his sword, and Shubman again defended himself, but the force pushed him back.

Before he knew it, Ishan had him have his back against the carriage. He fought with all his strength to keep Ishan's blade away from his neck. Eventually, Shubman managed to push him back. Their swords clashed once, and then again.

Ishan let out a primal scream, pulling his sword away from Shubman’s, and in one swift motion, reached for Shubman’s neck. Shubman, reacting instinctively, did the same, his own sword grazing against the skin of Ishan’s throat.

For a moment, they stopped fighting, knowing that each held the other’s life in their hands.

"Prince Ishan, stop!" Shubman’s voice cut through the quiet, rising in intensity but not in anger. There was something else—something softer, lingering between the words, something personal.

"Ishan, stop," he said again, the plea softer this time, almost a whisper

Ishan’s grip tightened momentarily before his voice, low and filled with venom, broke the silence. "Don’t you dare call me by my name." His voice shook with emotion. "My father needs your head, and I shall give it to him."

In that moment, Shubman saw through the layers of fury and realized just how desperate Ishan was. It wasn’t just about the betrayal anymore—it was about the constant need to prove himself to his father, to finally be enough. Shubman could feel the weight of that need, the way it crushed Ishan from the inside.

“You can have my head,” he said, his voice calm but heavy with emotion. “You can cut me down to pieces.” His chest heaved as he caught his breath. “But first… we need to talk. Please, Prince.”

Ishan’s hand trembled against Shubman’s neck, his eyes wild with fury, but something flickered in his gaze—a hesitation, a crack in the armor of his rage.

“Talk?” Ishan scoffed, tightening his grip as if trying to convince himself not to waver. “There’s nothing left to talk about. You betrayed me, Shubman. You betrayed everything.” Shubman could now see how subtly Ishan shook, how hurt he had been from all that he had done.

“I know…” Shubman breathed out, his tone sincere, filled with regret. “I know what I did, and I’ll pay for it. But please… hear me out. Just this once.”

***

"Don't touch me..." Ishan said, when Shubman tried grabbing his shoulder. They were now inside the inn, where Shubman and Ishan were standing together, alone.

"Ishan, everything I did was for a mission. It was all a task, just to know more about Patliputra, more about it's people. We needed to know about," Shubman hesitated, "about the security measures in the kingdom."

"So that you could attack our state without a warning, capture everyone?"

"Prince Ishan, I know that you understand how these things work. Spies from your kingdom have been here too!"

Ishan raised an eyebrow, he replied sarcastically, "Oh, really? And how many of them have broken your heart, Prince? If I may ask?"

"I never wanted to betray you...When I met you, I—"

His words were cut short as he instinctively reached out, his hand brushing Ishan’s shoulder. Ishan recoiled, anger flashing in his eyes as he shouted, “I said, do not touch me!”

That was the moment Shubman lost the last bit of his restraint. Without thinking, he surged forward, grabbing Ishan by the shoulders and forcefully pushing him back against the wall. The impact made a thud, but Ishan didn't flinch—his body tense and unyielding. Shubman pinned Ishan’s hands above his head, their fingers intertwining in an intimate, almost possessive grip. Their bodies were pressed close, the heat between them undeniable, their breaths mingling in the small space left between their lips.

“Don’t touch me—” Ishan started again, his voice shaking with fury and something else that neither of them could name.

But Shubman, his eyes dark and intent, leaned closer, his lips barely an inch away from Ishan’s. Their faces were so close that Ishan could feel the warmth of Shubman’s breath on his skin. Every heartbeat was loud, every breath felt like it was too heavy for his lungs to handle.

Ishan’s heart raced as Shubman whispered, “Get away from me, Abhishek.”

It slipped from Ishan’s lips almost unconsciously, the name he had always known him by, the name that symbolized the web of lies between them.

Shubman’s gaze softened for just a moment, then he murmured, his voice low, “It’s Shubman for you.”

In that instant, everything broke apart. Before Ishan could protest again, Shubman closed the gap between them, his lips brushing softly against Ishan’s. The touch was tentative at first, like Shubman was testing the waters, unsure if Ishan would push him away or break down right then. But Ishan, caught off guard by the sudden kiss, froze, his mind racing with confusion and anger. His body, however, betrayed him—he didn’t pull away.

Shubman deepened the kiss, his lips moving slowly, almost sensually against Ishan’s, and the anger that Ishan had been clinging to melted away, replaced by a feeling he couldn’t name. Ishan’s protests, which had been so fierce only moments ago, turned into weak struggles. He tried to push Shubman back with his free hand, pressing against his chest, but Shubman didn’t budge. Instead, he pressed closer, his lips demanding more, claiming every inch of Ishan’s resistance.

Ishan gritted his teeth, trying to regain control, but the sensation of Shubman’s lips against his was intoxicating, overwhelming. His knees threatened to buckle as the kiss deepened, Shubman’s lips gentle yet firm, pushing him further into a surrender he hadn’t anticipated.

“Get… off me…” Ishan murmured against Shubman’s mouth, but his words were weak, fading as Shubman’s tongue flicked teasingly at the seam of his lips. Ishan’s protests slowed down, his body betraying the anger he still felt deep inside. Gradually, he stopped pushing altogether, his grip on Shubman’s hand loosening as he allowed the kiss to consume him.

Shubman’s fingers tightened around Ishan’s, still holding his hands firmly against the wall, but his other hand slipped down to rest on Ishan’s waist, pulling him closer. The kiss became slower, more intimate, as Shubman poured all the emotions he had held back for so long into this moment. Ishan’s breaths came out in short gasps as Shubman’s lips moved against his with a tenderness that contrasted with the roughness of their earlier fight.

A small whimper escaped Ishan’s throat, and he cursed himself internally for how weak it sounded. But the kiss—Shubman’s kiss—was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was filled with longing, regret, and something deeper, something he couldn’t ignore.

Their lips finally parted for a brief moment, both of them breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other’s. Ishan’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his mind spinning. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He was too lost in the haze of what had just happened.

Shubman’s eyes searched Ishan’s, his thumb grazing over his lower lip, still tasting the remnants of the kiss. He didn’t say a word, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. It was an apology, a confession, and a plea for forgiveness all at once.

Ishan, still pressed against the wall, tried to catch his breath. His mind was at war with his heart, but in that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to push Shubman away.

Not yet.

"Fucking Bastard of Indraprastha!" Ishan started again.

Shubman sighed, he closed his eyes, threw his head back and opened his eyes again. Looking back at Ishan, he said, "Okay, fine. I am the bastard of Indraprastha. And I can be anything else you want me to be because I...."

***

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Thanks for reading💖