
The Festival of Moons
The palace was alive that night.
Drums thundered, lamps floated upon the river like fallen stars, and the scent of sandalwood and sugar filled the air.
It was the Festival of Moons — a celebration of peace, love, and divine union. The people of Suryanagari believed that on this night, the moon goddess descended to bless mortals with a moment of destiny.
Princess Aaranya had attended this festival every year of her life.
But tonight felt different.
Tonight, her protector — the stranger from the desert — stood among the dancers and light.
---
The Palace Courtyard
Aaranya stepped out from her chamber, draped in soft violet silk that shimmered like twilight. Silver moon motifs traced her sleeves, and her hair was woven with lotus petals.
When she entered the courtyard, the crowd parted — her presence seemed to draw the light itself.
Rihan stood nearby, dressed not in armor but in a plain white tunic edged with the mark of Kaalden — a sun swallowed by the crescent moon.
He bowed as she approached.
“You honor the night, Princess,” he said, his tone formal.
Aaranya smiled faintly. “And you make it sound like an oath.”
Rihan’s lips curved just slightly. “Where I come from, compliments are oaths. Breaking one is a sin.”
“Then I shall not argue,” she said, her eyes glinting with amusement.
The music swelled — sitars and flutes weaving together as dancers in golden veils whirled through the courtyard. Lanterns carried upward, carrying people’s wishes to the sky.
Aaranya watched, her heart lightening. “Every year I make the same wish,” she murmured.
Rihan looked at her. “And what is it?”
“That I might see the world beyond these walls.”
“Then why not leave?”
She gave a short laugh. “Because princesses don’t leave, Sir Rihan. We are the walls.”
---
The Lantern Wish
Later, when the music softened, every noble and servant alike carried a paper lantern to the river steps.
Aaranya knelt at the water’s edge, her lantern in her hands. The river shimmered like liquid silver.
Rihan stood a few steps behind, watching her. The moonlight painted her face with serenity, but he saw the longing in her eyes.
“Do you believe,” she asked softly, “that wishes reach the gods?”
Rihan hesitated. “Where I come from, the gods stopped listening long ago.”
“Then perhaps they’ll listen tonight,” she said, and set her lantern afloat.
The flame drifted, joined by hundreds of others, forming a galaxy on the river’s surface.
Rihan finally bend his legs beside her and released his own lantern — smaller, unmarked, but steady in its light.
She glanced at him. “What did you wish for?”
He met her gaze.
“Forgiveness.”
Aaranya blinked. “For what?”
He looked back at the river. “For the sins that brought me here.”
Her voice softened. “Then I hope the goddess listens.”
And for a moment — just a heartbeat — their hands brushed.
It was accidental, lasted for short time, but it sent a spark through the air.
The river causes small waves.
The wind blows strongly causing river waves and moving objects.
And far above, the moon’s light brightened — unnaturally bright — as if answering something unseen.
---
The Moon’s Blessing
A sudden movement passed through the river. The music halted. Lanterns flickered violently, then stop flickering — but something in the air had changed.
Whispers ran through the crowd.
“The goddess… she’s awake.”
Before anyone could move, a glowing mist rose from the river. The light moves round in a curve like smoke, forming a faint shape — a woman’s face, ancient and divine.
Everyone dropped to their knees. Aaranya froze, staring as the goddess’s voice echoed through the night like bells underwater:
“Child of the sun and river… bearer of the lotus heart… your path has crossed the shadowed blade.
Together you will awaken what has long slept.
But beware — love and ruin share the same face.”
Then the vision faded. The mist sank back into the water, leaving only silence — and the sound of Rihan’s sharp breath beside her.
Aaranya turned to him. “Did you see—?”
But Rihan was already standing, eyes wide with something like recognition… or fear.
He pressed a hand to his sword, whispering words in an ancient tongue.
She frowned. “What is it?”
He forced a calm smile. “Nothing, Your Highness. Just… an old prayer.”
But his hands trembled — and Aaranya, for the first time, wondered what shadows truly followed him from across the sands.
---
"That Night, the Fate Thread Stirred”
Back in her chamber, Aaranya couldn’t sleep.
The goddess’s warning kept echoing in her mind, soft but sharp as a blade:
“Love and ruin share the same face.”
She pressed a hand to her chest as if she could still feel the goddess’s touch lingering there.
Love? Ruin?
Why did the words make her heart tremble?
The moonlight pulled her toward the balcony.
She stepped outside, the night air brushing her skin. Below in the courtyard, the knight from the desert stood alone — silent, steady, carved into the stillness like a figure the moon itself had shaped.
His blade glowed faintly, catching the silver light.
But it wasn’t the blade that held her gaze.
It was him.
As if sensing her presence, Rihan lifted his head.
Their eyes met.
Aaranya froze.
There was nothing grand about the moment.
No music.
No prophecy.
Just the quiet pull between two people who shouldn’t have been looking at each other this long.
Rihan didn’t bow.
Didn’t speak.
He simply looked at her — not like a princess, not like a royal duty — but with a softness she hadn’t seen in anyone’s eyes before.
Aaranya felt warmth bloom in her chest, fragile and confusing.
Why did one stranger’s gaze feel like it could undo her?
Rihan took a slow breath, as if steadying something inside himself. His fingers tightened around his sword — not in ready to fight, but as if holding himself back from stepping closer.
Aaranya’s lips parted slightly, the faintest whisper escaping her:
“…Why can’t I look away?”
The wind carried her voice down.
Rihan’s expression changed — just a flicker — but it was enough to make her heartbeat stumble.
He dipped his head once, a silent promise.
Not of loyalty.
Something gentler.
Something dangerous.
Aaranya backed away from the balcony railing, her pulse racing.
She didn’t know his name.
She didn’t know his past.
She didn’t know why the goddess’s warning echoed louder now.
But she knew one truth:
Their fates had just shifted.
And somewhere deep inside her, something whispered back:
"Love and ruin… perhaps they truly do wear the same face".
---
Special Chapter of "that night, the fate threat stirred"
Rihan's Point Of View—"The First Pull"
The courtyard was quiet.
Rihan stood beneath the moonlight, blade in hand, though he wasn’t truly training anymore. His thoughts kept drifting — toward her.
The princess he had sworn to protect.
The girl he should never allow himself to look at for too long.
He exhaled, steadying his heartbeat.
Focus, Rihan.
You are not here to feel.
A soft rustle above made him look up.
There she was.
Aaranya stood on her balcony, moonlight slipping across her hair like it had been crafted to adore her. She wasn’t wearing a crown, wasn’t surrounded by attendants — just a girl in the quiet night, searching the darkness with eyes that glowed like two small galaxies.
Then she saw him.
Their eyes collided.
Something inside Rihan — something he’d locked away under duty, discipline, and distance.
He told himself to look away.
To bow.
To remember who he was and why he was here.
But he didn’t.
Because in her gaze… he found a softness he had forgotten existed.
A warmth that reached him even from the balcony above.
For the first time since entering this palace, he was the one unguarded.
Aaranya’s lips parted slightly in surprise.
A fragile, breathless expression that struck him harder than any blade ever had.
Why does she look at me like that… like she can see beyond the mask?
He tightened his grip on his sword — not from threat, but to keep himself under control.
He wanted to step closer.
He wanted to speak.
He wanted… something he could not name.
So instead, he bowed his head just slightly.
A gesture that said
nothing and everything at once.
A silent vow:
I will protect you. Even from myself.
When he lifted his eyes again, she was still there.
And Rihan knew — he should have feared the enemy.
But instead… he feared the way she made him feel.
---



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