A Threat in the Shadows

Rajgarh Palace – Midnight

Meera couldn’t sleep.

She lay on the impossibly soft mattress, staring at the ornate ceiling, her mind racing.

The DNA test had changed everything.

She had spent years building her own life, her own identity. And now? Now she wasn’t just Meera Sharma, journalist from Mumbai.

She was Meera Singh.

Daughter of a king. A princess. A royal heir.

It was unbelievable.

And yet…

Somewhere, deep inside, a part of her had already known.

The familiarity she felt in this palace. The way Devyani had looked at her. The ghosts that lingered in every corridor.

Her mother had left something behind here. And Meera was finally starting to realize that maybe—just maybe—her mother had never wanted her to find it.

She exhaled sharply and turned over.

She needed air.

The Palace Courtyard

The palace was quiet at night. Too quiet.

The air smelled of damp earth and jasmine, and the moonlight cast long shadows across the stone pathways.

Meera pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, stepping carefully past the carved pillars. She hadn’t meant to wander so far, but something about the night felt heavy.

Like the past was watching her.

She exhaled, shaking her head. She was being dramatic.

Then—

A noise.

A sharp rustle.

Meera froze.

Her pulse spiked.

The sound had come from behind one of the pillars.

Her fingers curled into fists. "Who’s there?"

No answer.

But she felt it.

The presence.

Someone was watching her.

She took a step back, her heart hammering. "This isn’t funny."

Nothing.

Then—

A shadow moved.

Meera’s breath hitched.

She saw it—a figure, half-hidden in the dark.

Tall. Motionless. Watching.

Fear snapped through her, but she fought it down. "Who are you?" she demanded.

No answer.

Just silence.

Then, without warning—

The figure lunged.

Meera’s instincts kicked in.

She turned and ran.

Her breath came hard and fast, her bare feet slamming against the cold stone as she sprinted toward the nearest exit.

The figure followed.

Meera’s stomach twisted. Shit.

She wasn’t imagining this. This wasn’t paranoia.

Someone wanted her gone.

She twisted through the courtyard, darting past fountains and archways, the footsteps behind her growing faster.

She needed to reach the main hall. Needed to—

A hand grabbed her wrist.

Meera screamed.

Then—

Another hand. Stronger. Pulling her away.

A voice—familiar. Sharp. Furious.

"Let. Her. Go."

The grip on her wrist vanished.

Meera stumbled back, her pulse erratic, and turned to see—

Aryan.

His chest was rising and falling hard, his gaze locked onto the shadowed figure. His stance was predatory, dangerous.

But the attacker was already gone.

Disappearing into the night, leaving behind only the faintest whisper of footsteps.

Meera’s breath came in gasps. She turned to Aryan.

"What—" she swallowed. "Did you see them?"

Aryan’s jaw was tight. "No."

"But—"

He exhaled sharply. "I heard you scream."

Meera pressed a hand against her chest. "Someone was here."

Aryan’s fists clenched. "I know."

The silence between them was thick.

Then Aryan grabbed her wrist, his grip firm, unrelenting.

"You’re coming with me," he said.

Meera frowned. "Where?"

Aryan’s voice was ice.

"To find out who just tried to kill you."

Inside the Palace

Aryan didn’t let go of Meera’s wrist until they were back inside the palace.

Even then, his grip lingered a second too long before he released her.

Meera exhaled, still shaken. "You believe me now?"

Aryan’s eyes burned. "I never said I didn’t."

She blinked. What?

Before she could process that, Aryan turned to one of the guards standing near the corridor.

"Lock down the palace," he ordered. "No one leaves. I want to know who was outside tonight."

The guard bowed. "Yes, Your Highness."

Meera frowned. "That won’t do anything. Whoever it was is probably long gone."

Aryan didn’t look at her. "Then I’ll find them another way."

Meera hesitated.

There was something dark in his expression.

Not just anger. Something deeper. Personal.

Like this wasn’t just about her. Like this was about something much bigger.

"What do you think this is?" she asked.

Aryan finally turned to her. "A warning."

Meera swallowed.

"A warning for what?"

Aryan’s voice was quiet.

"For you to leave."

The words settled heavily between them.

Meera licked her lips. "Well, they’re going to be disappointed."

Aryan’s brows lifted slightly. "You’re staying?"

Meera squared her shoulders. "I’m not running just because someone wants me to."

Aryan studied her.

And for the first time since she had met him, something in his gaze shifted.

Not anger. Not hostility.

Something almost like… respect.

It was gone in an instant.

"Fine," Aryan muttered, stepping back. "But from now on, you don’t go anywhere alone."

Meera scowled. "I don’t need a babysitter."

"You do now." Aryan’s voice was final. "Someone in this palace wants you dead, Sharma. And until we figure out who, you’re under my protection."

Meera exhaled, rubbing her forehead. "This is insane."

Aryan smirked. "Welcome to Rajgarh."

The Next Morning

Meera barely slept.

By the time dawn broke, the events of the night still weighed heavily on her.

She wasn’t safe here. That much was clear.

But she wasn’t leaving.

Not until she had answers.

She stepped into the dining hall for breakfast—only to find Aryan already waiting.

He glanced up from his tea, his expression unreadable.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

Meera glared. "Like a baby. Almost got murdered, but you know, no big deal."

Aryan smirked. "Good. Because you and I have work to do."

Meera frowned. "What kind of work?"

Aryan set his cup down. "We’re going to dig through my father’s old records."

Meera hesitated. "Why?"

Aryan’s voice was quiet.

"Because I think my father’s secrets didn’t just get him killed." His gaze locked onto hers.

"I think they might get you killed too."

Meera’s heart skipped a beat.

And suddenly, she realized—

This wasn’t just a battle for the throne anymore.

It was a battle for the truth.

And she had no idea if she was ready for what she was about to find.

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