Crown of Shadows
intro
Dr. Aanya Mehra
Age: 27
A gifted trauma surgeon from Delhi, known for her dedication to underserved communities.
Brown skin glowing with understated elegance; a mix of modern confidence and traditional values.
Personality: sharp-tongued, independent, with a stubborn streak.
ML – Maharaj Aryan Singh Rathore
Age: 31
King of Rajasthan; officially a philanthropist and business tycoon.
Behind the scenes: controls a powerful network that blends old royal influence with modern underworld deals.
Personality: charismatic, commanding, outwardly cold but secretly yearns for loyalty and honesty.
Rajmata Jaya Rathore (Aryan’s mother, 58): fiercely protective of the throne’s dignity. She’s the living bridge between old Rajasthan royalty and the modern business empire. Outwardly a patron of charities, inwardly the strategist who taught Aryan how to read a room. She’s fiercely protective of the family name but also deeply lonely. She’ll be Aanya’s biggest sceptic at first, then a reluctant ally when she sees the doctor’s integrity.
Yuvraj Devendra Singh Rathore (Aryan’s cousin, 29 — the one Aanya saved)
Charming, reckless, popular with the public. Wounded in the Delhi shooting. He’s Aryan’s last real link to “family” and the reason Aanya is at the palace at all.
Dr. Sameer Kapoor (Aanya’s senior, 34): mentor and maybe a quiet admirer.
Kavya Chauhan (IPS officer, 30)
Not a relative but an honest cop assigned to liaise with the palace. A foil for Aanya — she also navigates a male-dominated world with principles.
Advik Singh Rathore (another cousin, 33)
Polished, ambitious, secretly feeding information to rivals. He’s the one who sees Aanya as Aryan’s potential weakness.
Princess Alka Rathore (Aryan’s younger sister, 24)
Educated abroad, returns to Jaipur mid-story. She’s friendly with Aanya and becomes a bridge between Aanya and the palace world. Through her eyes we can show Aryan’s protective, brotherly side.
Aanya Mehra has never stepped foot inside a palace. She’s a trauma surgeon in Delhi who spends her nights stitching together victims of other people’s violence. When a midnight shooting delivers an unconscious VIP to her ER, she saves his life without knowing she’s just crossed paths with Rajasthan’s most powerful man.
Maharaj Aryan Singh Rathore is the young king of a centuries-old dynasty, outwardly a philanthropist and billionaire industrialist, inwardly the quiet architect of a sprawling underground network. To his enemies he’s ruthless, to his people he’s a lion, and to himself he’s slowly becoming a prisoner of the power he inherited.
Circumstance drags Aanya into Aryan’s world: first as a reluctant royal physician, then as a reluctant confidante. Threats close in on the palace. Rivals smell weakness. Every move Aryan makes to protect her risks pulling her deeper into the very darkness she despises.
Author
ready for their journey?
hospital
The ER lights never slept
Monitors beeped like an impatient metronome, gurneys lined the hallway, and the smell of antiseptic clung to every surface.
Aanya Mehra (fl)
*pressed gaze into a jagged wound*
Aanya Mehra (fl)
*brown hands steady even as crimson spread across the sheet*
The man on the table was young, broad-shouldered, and bleeding from a gunshot wound to the abdomen.
Nurse
Pressure’s dropping. *murmured*
Aanya Mehra (fl)
Clamp. *snapped*
She didn’t even look up; her voice cut through the noise like a scalpel.
She’d been on call for 18 hours.
In her world, VIPs and beggars bled the same colour
She would treat this one like any other — quickly, precisely, without drama.
Outside the glass doors, a tall man in a black jacket stood watching
Security ringed him: earpieces, subtle weapons, the kind of quiet muscle Delhi hospitals saw only after high-profile shootouts.
Aryan Singh Rathore did not flinch at the sight of blood
The youngest king Rajasthan had ever seen, he’d learned long ago to keep his face still and his thoughts hidden.
Tonight the life slipping away on the table was his younger cousin, the only one he still trusted.
first meeting
Aryan Singh Rathore did not flinch at the sight of blood.
The youngest king Rajasthan had ever seen, he’d learned long ago to keep his face still and his thoughts hidden
Tonight the life slipping away on the table was his younger cousin, the only one he still trusted.
Aanya Mehra (fl)
* bent over the wound, tendrils of hair escaping from her bun*
She moved like someone who had no idea whom she was touching — or didn’t care.
Aryan Singh Rathore (ml)
*watching the surety of her hands*
Her bangles clinked softly as she reached for another instrument.
Unknown
his security chief -
Unknown
Sir, she’s the best
Aryan Singh Rathore (ml)
She’d better be *cold voice*
His tone carried something other than threat.
Aanya Mehra (fl)
*glanced up at the shadow beyond the glass*
Aryan Singh Rathore (ml)
*looking her*
A man’s eyes met hers — sharp, dark, unreadable.
Power radiated from him like heat from tarmac.
Aanya Mehra (fl)
*looked away*
Two hours later the cousin’s pulse stabilised. The team wheeled him to the ICU.
Aanya Mehra (fl)
*stripped off her gloves, exhaustion tugging at her muscles*
Aanya Mehra (fl)
*stepped into the corridor to catch a breath*
Aryan Singh Rathore (ml)
*standing there waiting for her*
Up close he was even more imposing: six-foot-three- inch- something, broad-shouldered, an expensive watch peeking from under the cuff.
Aryan Singh Rathore (ml)
Dr. Mehra *cold voice*
Aryan Singh Rathore (ml)
Thank you. *cold voice*
Aanya Mehra (fl)
*wiped her hands on a disposable towel*
Aanya Mehra (fl)
It’s my job. *turned, already moving toward the nurses’ station*
Aryan Singh Rathore (ml)
You don’t even want to know who you saved? *cold voice*
Aanya Mehra (fl)
Doesn’t matter. He was bleeding. That’s enough.
Aryan Singh Rathore (ml)
*mouth quirked — not a smile, exactly*
Aryan Singh Rathore (ml)
I like people who do their jobs well. *reached into his coat, handed her a heavy embossed card*
Aryan Singh Rathore (ml)
If your hospital ever needs funding, call. *cold voice*
Aanya Mehra (fl)
I don’t take favours from strangers.
Aanya Mehra (fl)
*raised her eyebrows*
Aryan Singh Rathore (ml)
Then consider it a business card, not a favour. *cold voice*
Aanya Mehra (fl)
*take it and pocketed it without looking at it*
Aryan Singh Rathore (ml)
*walked away with his man's*
Aanya Mehra (fl)
*looking his back then turned and left*
Author
like, comment and subscribe guys
Download NovelToon APP on App Store and Google Play
