Akdha FF - Embers of Fate - Chp5 Pg 5 / 12 Feb 2025 - Page 3

Chapter 2 is here ... I would love to hear your thoughts if you enjoyed it. Happy reading!

Chapter 2

The air was thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth as thunder rumbled in the distance. Jodha sat on the floor of her chambers, her fingers absently trailing over the embroidery of a half-finished shawl. Arif lay nearby, fast asleep, his tiny form bundled in a blanket too large for him. The firelight flickered across his face, softening the sharp edges of exhaustion etched into his young features.

Moti watched her mistress from the doorway, a frown tugging at her lips. “You’ve barely slept, Jodha. What is it you’re thinking about?”

Jodha didn’t answer immediately. Her fingers paused mid-stitch, her gaze fixed on the boy. “I can’t stop wondering, Moti...how many more like him are out there? Alone. Lost. Carrying scars they don’t even understand.”

Moti stepped inside, her voice soft but insistent. “You can’t save them all, Jodha. This war isn’t yours to end.”

Jodha’s head snapped up, her eyes flashing. “Isn’t it? It’s because of people like me...like my family....that boys like him lose everything. How can I sit here in my silk robes and pretend this isn’t my fault too?”

Moti sighed, kneeling beside her. “You’re just one person, Jodha. Even you have limits.”

The words stung, but Jodha knew they were true. Still, the weight of her helplessness sat heavy in her chest. She reached out, brushing a stray curl from Arif’s forehead. “I just...I can’t let him go back to that. Whatever his life was before, it’s gone now. And maybe....just maybe....I can give him something better.”

Moti hesitated but said nothing. Deep down, she admired Jodha’s resolve, even if it terrified her.

~~

Across the battlefield, in the Mughal encampment, Jalal sat alone in his tent, the remains of a sparse meal untouched before him. The sounds of the camp buzzed faintly in the background....clinking armor, muffled groans from the wounded, the crackle of fires....but he barely registered any of it.

A crumpled letter lay on the table before him. He smoothed it out with calloused fingers, rereading the words that had been haunting him since it arrived that morning.

“A spy in our midst. Rajput origins. Close to your ranks. We will send further details.”

The missive was unsigned, written in hasty, smudged script. Jalal’s jaw tightened. He didn’t trust anonymous warnings, but he couldn’t ignore the possibility. Betrayal was always a whisper away in his world.

His thoughts were interrupted by Abdul’s entrance. “Shehenshah,” Abdul said with a bow, “the scouting party has returned. They found remnants of Rajput forces retreating south.”

Jalal nodded absently, his mind still on the letter. “Any sign of their leaders?”

“None,” Abdul replied. “But there was something...odd. They found a child’s belongings near one of the abandoned camps. A toy, a small bag of clothes. It seemed out of place.”

Jalal’s brow furrowed. “A child?”

“Yes,” Abdul said. “Perhaps a stray caught in the chaos. Or bait.”

Jalal leaned back in his chair, his thoughts racing. A child’s belongings on a battlefield weren’t just odd....they were wrong. But there was no time to dwell. The war demanded his focus, and distractions could be deadly.

“Double the patrols,” he ordered, his voice cold. “And keep this to yourself. If there’s a spy among us, we can’t risk them knowing what we’ve found.”

Abdul bowed and left, leaving Jalal alone with his thoughts once more. He stared at the letter again, his mind circling back to the child. War left no room for innocence. And yet, the thought of a child caught in this hell struck a nerve he didn’t realize was still raw.

~~

Back in Amer, Jodha sat by the palace gardens, Arif at her side. The boy was silent, his eyes far older than they should have been. She handed him a small, wooden carving she’d found earlier....a horse, roughly hewn but sturdy.

“Do you like it?” she asked gently.

Arif turned it over in his hands, his expression unreadable. “My brother had one like this,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Before...”

Jodha’s chest tightened. She reached out, placing a hand over his. “You don’t have to tell me, Arif. Not if it hurts too much.”

The boy looked up at her, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “It always hurts.”

Her heart broke a little at his words. She pulled him into an embrace, holding him close as the weight of his pain settled over them both.

~~

That night, as the palace slept, Jodha’s brother Sujamal rode into the courtyard, his face set in grim determination. He was dusty from the road, his eyes sharp with the urgency of bad news.

He didn’t bother with formalities as he stormed into the hall where Jodha awaited him.

“Jodha,” he said without preamble, “I’ve heard somewhispers. There’s a Mughal spy operating in our ranks, feeding information back to Jalaluddin’s camp.”

Jodha’s blood ran cold. “A spy? Here?”

Sujamal nodded. “Yes. And if we don’t root them out, this war will end with us kneeling before him.”

Jodha stared at him, her mind reeling. The idea of betrayal within their walls was chilling enough. But what truly unsettled her was the growing sense that the lines between loyalty and survival were far murkier than she’d ever imagined.

She glanced at Arif, fast asleep in her chambers, and felt a shiver run down her spine.

What had she truly brought into her home?

~~

The moon hung low in the sky, shrouded by wispy clouds, casting an ethereal glow over Amer. The palace was quiet, its occupants lulled into a false sense of peace. But Jodha couldn’t sleep. Her brother’s words from earlier that evening still echoed in her mind

There’s a spy among us.

The thought felt like a splinter lodged deep in her thoughts, impossible to ignore. Jodha sat by her window, the cool breeze brushing against her face. Below, the courtyard stretched out in shadowy silence.

Her gaze drifted to the boy sleeping on a makeshift bed in the corner of her chambers. Arif stirred slightly, murmuring in his sleep. She had no proof....only intuition....but something about his arrival gnawed at her. It wasn’t just the timing. It was the way he avoided questions about his past, the flicker of hesitation in his eyes when she mentioned the Rajput forces.

Jodha, she told herself, he’s just a child.

And yet, she couldn’t shake the unease. If Sujamal’s fears were true, and someone close to them was feeding information to the Mughal King, she needed answers. Answers she wasn’t going to find within these gilded walls.

Making her decision, Jodha moved swiftly. She donned a plain cloak, wrapping it tightly around her to blend into the night. She slipped a small dagger into her belt....a precaution she hoped she wouldn’t need. Quietly, she opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit corridor.

~~

Meanwhile, several miles away, Jalal adjusted the scarf covering his face as he mounted his horse. The Mughal encampment had been restless that evening. Tensions ran high after the discovery of the child’s belongings and the anonymous letter warning of a spy. Jalal couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that something crucial was slipping through his grasp.

He had grown weary of hearing secondhand reports from his men. If there truly was a spy....or worse, a deeper conspiracy at play....he needed to see things for himself. Disguised as a wandering traveler, he rode into the night with only his loyal guard, Munim Khan, trailing at a distance.

“I still don’t think this is wise, Shehenshah,” Munim murmured when they paused near a dense thicket of trees. “If something happens....”

“Then something happens,” Jalal interrupted, his voice low but resolute. “I won’t sit idle while others dictate the course of this war.”

Munim sighed but said no more. Jalal spurred his horse forward, his mind focused on the task ahead. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going, but he trusted his instincts to guide him.

~~

Jodha’s footsteps echoed faintly in the deserted streets as she made her way toward the outskirts of the city. The marketplace she passed during the day now looked unrecognizable under the cloak of darkness. Stalls were shuttered, and stray dogs scavenged for scraps in the shadows.

Her destination was clear, a small temple on the edge of the forest, where travelers and wanderers often sought shelter. It was said to be a place where truths were exchanged freely, away from the ears of the powerful. If anyone knew anything about the rumored spy....or the child she’d brought into her home....it would be someone there.

~~

Jalal, began moving forward in the night.... His horse slowed as he approached the forest’s edge, the trees looming tall and silent like sentinels. Munim stopped a few paces behind him, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“I’ll wait here,” Munim said. “If you’re not back by dawn....”

“I will be,” Jalal said curtly, dismounting. He patted the horse’s neck before walking into the darkness alone.

The path was narrow, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and moss. Jalal moved cautiously, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. The place came into view, its weathered stones glowing faintly in the moonlight.

~~

Jodha reached the temple. She hesitated at the threshold, her heart pounding. Inside, a solitary figure sat by the fire....a wandering mendicant with a long beard and piercing eyes. His gaze lifted as she stepped into the dimly lit space.

“You’ve come seeking answers,” the man said, his voice raspy but firm.

“Yes,” Jodha replied, her voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling within her. He already knew her problem, didn't amazed her. Such instances were common where these mendicant could predict all and see through your eyes. “About the boy. And about...other matters.”

The mendicant nodded as though he had expected her. “Truths are not always what they seem, child. But they have a way of finding those who seek them.”

Before Jodha could respond, she heard a faint rustling behind her. Her hand instinctively went to the dagger at her waist.

“Who’s there?” she demanded, her voice sharp.

The shadows near the entrance shifted as a figure stepped into the light. The man’s eyes flicked toward her, his expression unreadable beneath the scarf covering half his face. For a heartbeat, the air seemed to freeze.

Neither spoke.

The mendicant’s voice broke the silence. “It seems the night brings many seekers to my door.”

Jodha’s grip on her dagger tightened, her mind racing. She couldn’t see the man’s face clearly, but there was something commanding about his presence....something that sent a chill down her spine.

The man, equally wary, kept his hand near his weapon. He didn’t recognize the cloaked figure before him, but he sensed they were no ordinary traveler.

The mendicant looked between them, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Perhaps the answers you seek lie not in my words, but in what you choose to do next.”

The tension crackled in the air like a storm on the verge of breaking.

Outside, the forest seemed to hold its breath. Neither Jodha nor the man moved, their paths converging unknowingly yet remaining shrouded in mystery.

Good one

Interesting too

Can't wait for next one

Thanks for reminding

Originally posted by: Kavya_P

Good one

Interesting too

Can't wait for next one

Thanks for reminding

Thanks Kavya. Will update soon ... glad u liked it ❤️

No one is truly initiating the war... it is, of course, instigated by the emperor in his quest to expand his reign

As for the letter .... yes, you’ll find out soon enough

Keep guessing until then!

You felt this short? Okayyy will try to post a long one ... by weekend hopefully

Thanks for commenting !!!

Thank you ... will update soon

I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you do, please don’t forget to leave a comment...your feedback means a lot and really motivates me to keep writing!

Chapter 3

The mendicant’s frail hand gestures toward Jodha, his eyes like molten embers that see beyond flesh and soul. “Speak, child. Whatever it is that burdens your heart, this man stands as a witness to the truth. Words left unsaid are chains unbroken.”

Jodha hesitates, the world around her narrowing to the quiet, flickering light of the oil lamp and the strange presence of the man cloaked in shadow. She clenches her fists to still their trembling, her thoughts a cacophony of doubts and fears. What does one say to a stranger when the weight of their grief feels so deeply personal?

“I…” she begins, but her voice falters. Her lips press together in defiance of her vulnerability.

The man, silent and still as stone, tilts his head slightly, a gesture so subtle it borders on indifference. Yet his eyes....those piercing, almost unsettlingly sharp eyes....don’t waver from her.

“She hesitates” the mendicant says, leaning forward as if addressing both of them and no one in particular. “Fear is a thief, child. It robs us of what could be. Speak.”

Jodha draws a deep breath, her resolve hardening. She had come here for clarity, for courage. But now, faced with the stranger’s silent scrutiny, words escape her like grains of sand slipping through fingers.

“Forgive me” she finally manages, “but I don’t know what to say.”

The mendicant chuckles, his laughter raspy and dry like leaves rustling in a storm. “The heart knows even when the mind falters. Trust it. Ask.”

The mendicant’s calm gaze rests on Jodha as the distant clamor grows louder, filling the shrine with an air of impending danger. For a fleeting moment, the silence between them feels heavier than the noise outside.

“What is that?” Jodha asks, her voice sharp with alarm.

“Perhaps your question has found its answer” the mendicant replies cryptically, his expression betraying no urgency.

The man near the doorway, cloaked in his dark robes, moves swiftly to his feet, his stance alert and ready. His hand instinctively brushes against the dagger at his side, and his sharp eyes narrow toward the commotion outside.

“This is no ordinary noise” he mutters.

Jodha moves to follow him, her heart pounding in her chest. The sounds are clearer now....shouts of fear, the crackling of fire, and the unmistakable clash of metal.

“I must go” she says firmly, glancing at the mendicant.

“No, child” the old man replies. His voice carries both warning and resignation. “Some battles are not yours to fight.”

But Jodha has already stepped past him. Her hand brushes against the hem of her dupatta, pulling it tightly over her head. “I won’t stand by while my people suffer.”

The man’s, a silent spectator till now, shoots out his hand to block her path. “And what exactly do you plan to do?” he asks, his tone sharp and unyielding.

She glares at him, her chin lifting in defiance. “Whatever I can.”

Before he can stop her, Jodha pushes past him, her footsteps swift and determined. The man hesitates for a moment, then curses under his breath and follows.

~~

Outside, the scene is pure chaos. Flames rise high into the night, illuminating the terrified faces of villagers as they scatter in all directions. A group of raiders....tribal warriors, their faces streaked with ash and paint....rampage through the settlement, wielding crude weapons and shouting in a language Jodha doesn’t understand.

Her breath catches as she takes it all in. For a moment, she is frozen, overwhelmed by the scale of the destruction. But then her eyes land on an elderly man, cornered by two raiders. His frail body shakes as he raises his hands in a futile attempt to shield himself.

Jodha doesn’t think. She grabs a staff lying discarded on the ground and runs toward them, shouting to draw their attention.

The raiders turn to her, their painted faces twisting into sneers. One of them lunges at her with a raised blade, but she swings the staff with all her strength, the wooden rod connecting with his arm. He cries out, dropping the weapon, and stumbles back.

“Run!” she shouts to the old man, who hesitates before hobbling away as quickly as he can.

Jodha barely has time to recover before the second raider charges at her. She spins, swinging the staff again, but he is faster. His blade grazes her arm, and she cries out in pain, her grip faltering.

The first raider, recovering from her blow, grabs her from behind, yanking the staff from her hands. She struggles, kicking and twisting, but his grip is like iron.

“You’re brave, little bird” he growls, his breath hot against her ear. “But bravery won’t save you.”

~~

The man watches from the shadows, his jaw clenched. He had followed her out of the shrine, intending only to ensure she didn’t get herself killed, but now he feels his patience snapping.

With a fluid motion, he draws his dagger and steps into the firelight.

The raiders don’t notice him at first, too focused on their captive. It is only when one of them hears the faint rustle of his approach that they turn, their expressions shifting from triumph to surprise.

“Who....” one of them begins, but the man doesn’t let him finish.

In a blur of movement, he strikes, his dagger finding its mark with deadly precision. The raider drops to the ground, and before the other can react, the man twists sharply, slamming the hilt of his weapon against his temple.

The second raider crumples, unconscious, and Jodha stumbles free, clutching her wounded arm.

“You....” she starts, but he silences her with a glare.

“Move” he snaps, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her toward the edge of the settlement. She resists at first, her pride flaring despite her injuries, but the strength of his grip and the urgency in his tone leave no room for argument.

~~

They don’t stop until they are far from the flames and the sounds of the raid have faded into the distance. The man finally lets go of her wrist, and Jodha collapses against a tree, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You’re reckless” he says, his voice low and angry.

She glares at him, cradling her injured arm. “And you’re welcome.”

He doesn’t respond, instead pulling a small pouch from his belt. He kneels beside her, his movements quick and efficient as he examines the wound on her arm.

“Hold still” he orders, pulling out a strip of cloth and a small vial of liquid.

Jodha flinches as he cleans the wound, the sting bringing tears to her eyes. “Why do you care?” she asks, her voice trembling.

He doesn’t look at her. “Because someone has to” he mutters.

His words hang in the air, heavy with a meaning she can’t quite grasp.

~~

The house they find is small and dilapidated, its walls crumbling and its roof sagging, but it provides shelter from the chill of the night. The man lights a small fire in the hearth, the flickering flames casting long shadows across the room.

Jodha sits on a makeshift cot, her arm bandaged and her body aching. She watches him as he moves about the room, his every action deliberate and controlled.

“Who are you?” she asks finally, unable to hold back the question any longer.

He doesn’t answer immediately, his attention focused on stirring a pot of boiling water.

“A traveler” he says at last, his tone dismissive.

She frowns. “That’s not an answer.”

He looks at her then, his dark eyes unreadable. “It’s the only one you’ll get.”

Jodha stares at him, frustration bubbling in her chest. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because it doesn’t matter” he replies, turning back to the fire. “Rest, princess. You’ll need your strength.”

She stiffens at the word princess, but he doesn’t elaborate, leaving her with more questions than answers.

As the fire crackles and the night deepens, Jodha feels her eyelids grow heavy. Despite the pain and the uncertainty, a strange sense of safety settles over her. Whoever this man is, she knows one thing for certain... he has saved her life.

But why?

~~

The night feels heavier now, the silence punctuated only by the occasional crackle of the fire. Jodha shifts uncomfortably on the cot, her arm throbbing despite the man’s meticulous care. The questions in her mind are unrelenting, circling like vultures.

Who was he? How had he known she was a princess? And why had he risked his life to save her?

The man sits by the fire, his back to her, lost in thought. He hasn’t spoken since their terse exchange, his focus seemingly fixed on the flames dancing before him. The lines of his face are sharp, the shadows accentuating the hard set of his jaw.

Jodha watches him, her curiosity battling her exhaustion. Finally, she can’t hold back any longer.

“You knew I was a princess” she says, breaking the silence. Her voice is soft, but it carries a note of challenge. “How?”

The man doesn’t turn. For a moment, she thinks he might ignore her entirely, but then he speaks, his tone low and measured.

“You carry yourself like one” he says simply.

Jodha narrows her eyes. “That’s not an answer.”

He lets out a dry laugh, though it carries no humor. “You ask too many questions, princess.”

“And you give too few answers.”

He finally turns to face her, his gaze locking with hers. In the dim firelight, his eyes seem darker, deeper, as though they hold secrets she could never fathom.

“Some answers are best left unsaid” he replies.

Jodha’s frustration flares. “You think I can trust a stranger who hides behind riddles? You could be anyone....”

“And you trusted me enough to let me save your life” he interrupts, his voice sharper now. “So perhaps we both took a gamble tonight.”

The air between them crackles, charged with unspoken tension. Jodha opens her mouth to retort but closes it again, realizing she has no response. He’s right. Whether she likes it or not, she owes him her life.

~~

The fire dwindles to embers, and Jodha finally succumbs to sleep, her body too drained to fight the pull of exhaustion. The man watches her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before standing and moving quietly around the room.

He searches through a rickety cabinet, pulling out a small, rusted tin. Inside are a few dried herbs and a roll of gauze. He sets them aside carefully, his movements practiced and precise.

The faintest sound catches his ear....a rustle outside, too deliberate to be the wind. His hand instinctively goes to the dagger at his belt.

The man moves to the window, peering into the darkness. He sees nothing, but the uneasy feeling doesn’t leave him. The raid might have been a one-off attack, but he knows better than to let his guard down. The wilderness is unforgiving, and danger rarely comes alone.

~~

When Jodha wakes, the room is dim, the fire long extinguished. For a moment, she is disoriented, her surroundings unfamiliar. Then the events of the previous night come rushing back.

She sits up, wincing as the movement pulls at her injured arm. The bandage is secure, the wound cleaned with a care that surprises her. She looks around the room but finds it empty.

The man is gone.

Jodha’s heart quickens. Did he leave her here? Was she truly alone in this abandoned house, miles from the safety of the palace?

She swings her legs over the side of the cot, testing her strength. Her head feels heavy, and her limbs are sluggish, but she forces herself to stand.

Just as she takes a shaky step forward, the door creaks open. She freezes, her breath catching in her throat.

The man steps inside, his cloak dusted with dirt and his face unreadable. In his hands is a small bundle wrapped in cloth.

“You’re awake” he says, his tone neutral.

Jodha exhales, a mixture of relief and frustration flooding through her. “You left” she accuses.

He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you’d need me to hold your hand.”

She bristles at his tone. “And what if something had happened while you were gone?”

He sets the bundle down on the table, unwrapping it to reveal a small loaf of bread and a handful of berries. “Then you would’ve screamed, and I would’ve heard.”

Jodha glares at him, her pride stung. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re stubborn” he counters, his lips twitching in the faintest hint of a smirk.

~~

They eat in silence, the tension between them lingering but softened by the shared necessity of survival. Jodha eyes him warily, still unsure of his motives.

“Why did you save me?” she asks finally, her voice quiet.

He looks at her for a long moment, as though weighing his response. “Because you needed saving” he says at last.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’ll get,” he replies, echoing his earlier words.

Jodha feels a flicker of annoyance but lets it go. There’s something about him she can’t quite place...a depth she’s both wary of and drawn to.

~~

Outside, the first light of dawn begins to break through the darkness, casting a pale glow over the desolate landscape.

“We should leave soon” the man says, rising to his feet. “It’s not safe to stay here.”

Jodha nods, though the thought of venturing into the unknown fills her with unease. She doesn’t know where they’re going or what lies ahead, but for now, she has no choice but to trust him.

As they step out into the cool morning air, the man pauses, his gaze scanning the horizon.

“What are you looking for?” Jodha asks, her curiosity piqued.

He doesn’t answer immediately, his expression distant. “Trouble” he says finally.

Jodha frowns. “You always expect trouble?”

“In my experience, it’s never far away.”

As they make their way through the wilderness, the questions in Jodha’s mind multiply.

Who is this man? What is he running from? And why does he seem so familiar, even though she’s certain they’ve never met?

She doesn’t realize that he’s asking himself the same questions about her.

~~

The sun rises steadily, its rays stretching across the barren expanse of land. The once-frigid morning air now hums with a faint warmth, but the tension between the two travelers remains as sharp as ever.

The man leads the way with steady strides, his gaze sweeping the horizon. Each step is deliberate, each glance purposeful. His demeanor carries an authority that doesn’t match the simplicity of his attire....a tattered cloak, sturdy boots, and a hood that conceals his face.

Jodha follows behind, her injured arm cradled against her chest. Despite her exhaustion, her mind churns with questions. He moves with such ease, such confidence, as though the wilderness itself bows to him. Who is this man?

The silence stretches until Jodha can bear it no longer.

“You haven’t told me where we’re going” she says, her tone challenging.

The man glances back briefly, his face obscured by the hood. “Away from danger” he replies curtly.

“That’s vague.”

“Vagueness keeps you alive” he counters without breaking stride.

Jodha’s jaw tightens. He’s impossible. Still, there’s something about him...something that unsettles her and intrigues her in equal measure.

Unbeknownst to her, the man’s thoughts are equally turbulent.

Jalaluddin Muhammad Akbar - emperor of Hindustan, conqueror of lands, and ruler of countless souls - feels the weight of his dual identity pressing on him. Here, in the wilds, he is no emperor. He is simply a man cloaked in anonymity, seeking solace from the burdens of his throne.

He glances over his shoulder at Jodha, her fiery spirit unmistakable even in her weakened state. He doesn’t know why he’s protecting her. It isn’t his place, not as an emperor, not as a stranger. Yet something about her compels him - a force he can’t quite name but refuses to ignore.

When he found her amidst the chaos, he acted on instinct. But now, as they journey together, he realizes he has underestimated the gravity of this decision. If she learns who he truly is...

Jalal exhales sharply. No. She won’t. Not yet.

As the sun climbs higher, the two of them come across a small stream. The water glistens in the sunlight, its gentle babbling breaking the stillness of the forest.

“Rest here” the man says, gesturing to a shaded patch near the water. “I’ll refill the water skins.”

Jodha doesn’t argue. The journey has taken its toll on her body, and the promise of cool water is too tempting to resist. She sinks onto the grass, her injured arm aching but manageable.

As the man kneels by the stream, the gentle murmuring of water fills the silence between them. The hood covering his head slips back ever so slightly, revealing the sharp lines of his face. High cheekbones catch the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy of trees, while a strong jawline hints at an indomitable strength. His brow furrows in concentration as he dips a hand into the cool water, his movements precise and deliberate.

Jodha sits a short distance away, cradling her injured arm as her gaze drifts. At first, it’s idle curiosity....a simple glance toward her mysterious companion. But when her eyes settle on him, she finds herself unable to look away.

There is something undeniably arresting about his face, an unspoken power that draws her in. His piercing gaze, though fixed on the task before him, seems to carry a depth she cannot fully comprehend. The faint shadow of stubble on his jaw, the subtle curve of his lips, the unyielding strength etched into every line - it all speaks of a man who has faced storms far greater than the one that brought them here.

Jodha feels her breath hitch, her heartbeat quickening without her permission. She chastises herself silently, shifting her gaze to the forest around them, but it doesn’t help. The image of his face remains imprinted in her mind, a detail her thoughts refuse to let go. She tells herself it’s simply her curiosity about him....this strange man who appears both rugged and refined, both grounded and otherworldly. Yet, deep down, she knows it’s more than that.

There’s a magnetism about him, an aura of command that unsettles her. She isn’t accustomed to feeling this way - vulnerable, uncertain. Jodha prides herself on her strength, her ability to stand tall in any storm. But here, in the quiet wilderness, she feels stripped of her usual defenses.

Her gaze flits back to him despite her better judgment. This time, she notices the way his hair, dark as midnight, curls slightly at the edges where it peeks from beneath the hood. She notices the faint crease between his brows, the way his lips press together in concentration. She notices...everything.

And it infuriates her.

How can someone she doesn’t even know stir her so deeply? He is a stranger, after all, an enigma cloaked in mystery. And yet, she feels a pull toward him, as if the forest itself is conspiring to bind their fates together.

Jodha forces herself to look away, clenching her jaw in frustration. She won’t give in to whatever spell this man seems to cast without even trying. But even as she resolves to fortify herself, her thoughts betray her, circling back to his face, his presence, his undeniable pull.

The man rises, brushing his hands on his cloak as he turns back toward her. His hood remains partially lowered, the light catching his eyes now, sharp and intense, like molten gold with an edge of steel. Jodha’s breath catches again, and she quickly looks away, pretending to adjust the sling on her arm.

“Here” he says, his voice steady but low, as he hands her the water skin. “Drink. You need to stay hydrated.”

She nods, avoiding his gaze as she takes the offered water. His proximity unsettles her further. His scent....earthy with a hint of something she can’t quite place....mingles with the fresh scent of the stream and the greenery around them. It’s intoxicating in a way she doesn’t want to admit.

As he moves away to tend to the fire, Jodha lets out a slow breath, her grip tightening around the water skin. She chastises herself again. This isn’t her. She doesn’t get flustered. She doesn’t let anyone unnerve her like this.

But as her gaze flickers toward him one more time, she knows the truth, this man, whoever he is, has already unsettled her more than she cares to admit.

“You’re used to giving orders, aren’t you?” she asks suddenly, her tone light but probing.

Jalal freezes for a fraction of a second before recovering. “Why do you say that?”

“It’s the way you speak. The way you carry yourself. You’re not a common man.”

“And you’re not a common woman,” he retorts, deflecting the question.

Jodha smirks faintly, though her eyes remain curious. “You’re very skilled at avoiding answers.”

“And you’re very skilled at asking questions” he replies.

She shakes her head, a hint of exasperation in her smile. “You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

~~

Night falls, they are close to Amer now. But Jodha is still too weak to travel so they rest near a grove of trees. Jalal starts a fire, his movements practiced and efficient. Jodha watches him, her thoughts a swirl of curiosity and suspicion.

“Why do you live like this?” she asks, breaking the silence.

“Like what?”

“Like a wanderer. A man without roots.”

He pauses, the firelight casting shadows across his face. “Some men find freedom in wandering.”

“And what about you? Have you found freedom?”

Jalal’s lips curve into a faint, humorless smile. “Freedom is an illusion.”

Jodha frowns, sensing the weight behind his words. She wants to press further, but something in his tone warns her not to.

~~

As Jodha drifts into an uneasy sleep, Jalal remains awake, his mind restless. He gazes at the fire, the flames reflected in his eyes.

He thinks of the palace he left behind, the politics he momentarily escaped, and the woman now sleeping a few feet away. Fate has an odd sense of humor, throwing their paths together in this way.

But how long can he keep his identity hidden?

Jalal leans back against a tree, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. He doesn’t have the answer yet. But for now, he’ll keep his secret, for both their sakes.

The night deepens, the forest alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures. And as the emperor watches over the princess, he realizes that their journey together has only just begun.

Chapter 3 is here dear