Chapter 15 : Severing the Thread

Sorry my forgotten cuties. Here's a prize for waiting patiently 😉.

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The morning was crisp and cold as I stood on the palace balcony, overlooking the training grounds.

Below, suitors clashed in preparation for the second trial, their swords ringing through the air.

Among them, Virendra moved like a storm—unrelenting, powerful, untouchable.

Even here, with the distance between us, I could feel him.

I tore my gaze away.

"This has to stop."

Udayveer approached, his expression careful. "You look troubled, Your Highness.I turned to face him, my decision firm.

"The trials will continue, but I have another task for you."

His brows furrowed. "What is it?"

I exhaled slowly. "The night of the final trial… I will choose a suitor."

His surprise was evident. "So soon?"

I nodded. "It’s the only way to end this."

And it was.

If I chose someone else—if I made my intentions clear—Virendra would have no choice but to step back.

Udayveer studied me for a moment before nodding. "Then I will ensure everything is prepared."

I forced a small smile. "Thank you."

But as he walked away, my chest felt unbearably tight.

Why did this feel more like a loss than a victory?

For the next few days, I did everything I could to avoid him.

I made excuses when he sought an audience with me.

I left rooms before he could enter them.

I surrounded myself with suitors, speaking with them more than necessary, knowing his eyes were always watching.

And it worked.

Almost.

It was the evening before the next trial when I finally let my guard down.

I had gone to the gardens for air, seeking solace in the silence.

The moment I stepped into the moonlit courtyard, I knew I wasn’t alone.

Virendra stood by the fountain, arms crossed, gaze dark.

I turned to leave.

"Running again?" His voice was quiet, but the accusation was clear.

I froze.

"Did you think ignoring me would make me disappear?" he asked, stepping closer. "That I would simply accept your little game?"

I clenched my fists, my back still to him. "This isn’t a game, Virendra."

He exhaled a sharp laugh. "No. It never was, was it?"

The weight of his words pressed against my chest.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, softer now. "Pushing me away like this?"

I swallowed hard.

Because I had to.

Because I had no choice.

I turned, forcing my expression into cold indifference. "Because you don’t matter to me."

Silence.

Then—

"You’re lying."

I flinched.

His gaze searched mine, unrelenting, desperate. "Look me in the eye and say it again."

I held my ground, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You don’t matter to me."

Virendra’s jaw clenched.

For a moment, I thought he might break. That he might let this go.

Instead, he took another step forward, so close I could feel his warmth.

His voice dropped, a quiet promise.

"Then I’ll make you regret saying that."

And with that, he walked away, leaving me alone with the weight of my own betrayal.

Because I had lied.

And now, I feared he would make me pay for it.

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If Jayant thought he could push me away so easily, he was mistaken.

I had given him space, let him run, let him build his walls.

No more.

He wanted to act like I didn’t matter? Like I was just another suitor to be dismissed?

Fine.

But he would soon realize—I was not a man he could ignore.

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The second trial was underway, a grand display of strength and strategy. The suitors had been tasked with a series of combat duels, testing not only their skill but their endurance.

I stood at the center of the arena, my sword gleaming under the afternoon sun, my gaze locked onto only one person.

Jayant.

He sat on the royal dais, poised and unreadable, flanked by advisors and the other suitors.

He refused to meet my eyes.

A muscle in my jaw tightened.

"You don’t matter to me."

The words still burned.

Very well.

If he wanted distance, I would make sure he felt my presence in a way he couldn’t ignore.

The match before mine ended, and my opponent stepped into the ring.

Udayveer.

A strong warrior, skilled, confident. But right now, I cared nothing for him.

My eyes remained on Jayant.

The match began.

Blades clashed, footwork precise, strategy unfolding. Udayveer was good. But I was better.

I moved with purpose, every strike measured, every counter ruthless.

It didn’t take long.

With one decisive move, I knocked the sword from his grasp, pinning him to the ground, blade at his throat.

The crowd erupted in cheers, but I barely heard them.

Because I had already turned—toward Jayant.

Before the victory could even be announced, I strode toward the dais.

Gasps echoed as I leaped onto the platform, ignoring protocol, ignoring everything.

Because right now, nothing else mattered.

I stopped in front of him, chest heaving, body thrumming with adrenaline.

His eyes finally met mine, startled, wary.

I leaned down, close enough that only he could hear me.

"You can push me away all you want, Jayant," I murmured, voice low and dangerous. "But I will remind you, every single day, who I am to you."

I reached for his hand, gripping his wrist.

He stiffened.

The court watched in stunned silence.

I didn’t care.

Lifting his hand, I pressed it to my chest. Right over my racing heart.

"Feel this?" I whispered. "This belongs to you. No matter how much you fight it."

His breath hitched.

For a moment, just a moment, his fingers curled slightly—as if he wanted to hold on.

Then he yanked his hand away.

His expression hardened, masking whatever had flickered across his face. "You’re making a spectacle, General."

I smirked. "Then stop looking at me like you don’t feel the same."

His lips parted, as if he wanted to argue, but he had nothing to say.

I stepped back, satisfied.

I had shattered his composure.

And this was only the beginning.

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