The morning had arrived with an unusual tenderness. Sunlight spilled gently into the palace corridors, soaking the marble floors in gold. A cool breeze carried the scent of mogra and rose from the courtyard. It was one of those rare, fleeting mornings when peace didn't feel borrowed.
Anika, in her shorts and tee, stepped into the breakfast hall and paused. Her eyes immediately went to the man sitting at the head of the table.
Ranvijay.
A sight she hadn't witnessed in months—not like this. He was smiling. Not the arrogant smirk or mocking grin he reserved for court rivals or business enemies. This was soft. Dazed. Like someone who had tasted something forbidden and now could not stop reliving it.
She narrowed her eyes and moved to sit beside Shiv, who was already halfway through his second glass of orange juice. "What's gotten into him?" she muttered, nudging Shiv.
Shiv followed her gaze, saw Ranvijay leaning back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at his lips, fingers absently tapping the armrest.
"I have no idea," Shiv whispered. "Last night he was brooding. Now he's acting like someone just handed him the kingdom on a silver plate."
Anika's lips twitched. "Did he win a business deal?"
"No. I checked. Nothing special happened in the boardrooms."
"Then what?"
Shiv leaned closer, playful curiosity sparkling in his eyes. "You think it's a woman?"
Anika's eyebrows lifted. "You mean Bhabi sa?"(sister in Law aka Myra)
Shiv smirked. "The only person who can make Ranvijay lose control and smile like that in one lifetime."
Anika turned her head, whispering thoughtfully. "He looks like he found something he didn't even know he was missing."
Meanwhile, upstairs in her room, Myra stood on the balcony, draped in a soft peach saree with golden embroidery dancing at the borders. Her hair was loose, brushing against her back, the gentle breeze playing with the ends. Her anklets made a faint sound every time she shifted her weight.
She hadn't been able to sleep well. Not after last night. Not after his touch. Not after his words.
"Careful, Myra… or I'll start thinking you like me."
That teasing voice still echoed in her ears.
And when he moved close—trapped her between his body and the railing, his hand brushing hers, the whisper of a kiss hovering between them—
Myra had fled.
But she had looked back. Just once.
And that was all it took to know she wasn't as unaffected as she wanted to be.
A soft knock on her door startled her.
"Myra baisa, the Queen has summoned everyone to the main hall," the maid informed respectfully.
Myra nodded, adjusting the pleats of her saree. Something in the air felt off.
---
Back downstairs, the palace's grand hall was gradually filling with people. Rajeshwari stood near the temple corner, placing a diya in the holder. Her eyes were calm, her hands steady.
But then...
The front doors of the palace opened.
Not with a creak.
Not with a knock.
With a push. Bold. Certain.
The guards at the gate rushed in, confused.
"My Lord! Someone has entered without permission!"
Footsteps echoed.
Casual.
Unbothered.
And then he appeared.
Aditya.
Dressed in dark jeans and a black shirt, rolled at the sleeves, a stubble marking his sharp jawline, a sling bag across one shoulder. He looked nothing like the royal heir he once was.
But his eyes—those dark, stormy eyes—hadn't changed.
Everyone froze.
Rajeshwari turned slowly.
The diya slipped from her fingers.
"Aditya..." her voice broke.
Anika stumbled back a step, her face pale. Shiv was on alert, confused but tense.
Ranvijay rose slowly from his chair, the smile long gone.
"Tell me this is a dream," Rajeshwari whispered, tears pooling in her eyes.
Aditya looked around the palace, his lips curling in mock amusement. "Still standing, I see. Walls haven't crumbled. But hearts? I wonder."
He stepped forward.
The guards didn't dare move.
Anika clutched Shiv's arm. "Why is he here? He was banished! Thrown out for—"
"Shhh!" Shiv whispered. "Let him speak."
Aditya's gaze moved across the hall—like a lion inspecting prey.
Then it landed on her.
Myra.
Standing at the stairs, saree swaying, lips parted in shock. He paused.
The world paused.
His gaze darkened.
The air stood still, as if the entire palace had taken a breath it couldn't let go of.
Aditya's eyes—dark, sharp, possessive—didn't waver from Myra. His lips curved slightly, the kind of smile that wasn't warm. It was the smile of someone who knew too much. Felt too much. Lost too much.
Myra's fingers unconsciously clutched the edge of her saree. His gaze—it was the same one she had felt that night outside the temple. The same presence. The same chill.
She didn't speak. Didn't move. Something inside her warned—this wasn't a stranger.
This was a storm.
But she wasn't the only one frozen.
"Aditya..." Rajeshwari's voice cracked, a whisper slipping past trembling lips.
Her dupatta fell from her shoulder as she stood up, hands shaking. "No… this—this cannot be…"
Aditya finally looked away from Myra, his head tilting slightly toward Rajeshwari.
"Maa," he said. Calm. Gentle. Deadly.
"Don't—" Her voice was louder now. Sharper. She took a step back. "Don't you dare call me that!"
Anika gasped. Shiv reached out instinctively to steady Rajeshwari, but even he looked pale, like he'd seen a ghost rise from the family's cursed past.
The servants had stopped moving. The guards at the entrance were stiff, unsure whether to interfere or run.
"You were banished!" Rajeshwari's voice rose, choked with fury and grief. "You were dead to this family!"
"Apparently not dead enough." His smirk deepened. "Or maybe ghosts just find their way back when they're not buried right."
Myra looked around, confusion slowly spreading in her chest. What was this? Who was he?
Aditya took a slow step forward, the click of his boots echoing in the marble hall.
"Still so dramatic, Maa. I missed this opera house you all live in."
"Leave," Rajeshwari snapped, her voice shaking. "You're not welcome here. You'll never be welcome."
"I'm not here for your welcome." He turned his eyes back to Myra. "I've come for something else."
Ranvijay stepped in front of Myra instinctively, his stance tense.
"What do you want?" His voice was deep, controlled—but something simmered underneath. Rage. Fear.
Aditya chuckled. "Ah, little brother. You always did play the protector, didn't you? Tell me—how long can you hold onto something fate already promised me?"
"Don't test me," Ranvijay warned, stepping closer. "This is not the same house you left behind."
"I know," Aditya said, leaning forward just slightly. "Because now she lives in it."
Myra flinched.
Ranvijay's fists clenched. Anika grabbed Shiv's hand tightly, her eyes wide with horror. Shiv moved closer to her, protective.
Rajeshwari, meanwhile, seemed to crumble where she stood. Her shoulders sagged, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Why now?" she whispered. "Why after all these years, Aditya?"
"Because something worth returning for finally appeared," he said simply, his gaze never leaving Myra. "I always return for what's mine."
"You lost that right long ago!" Rajeshwari shouted.
"I don't recall ever caring about rights." Aditya smiled at her. "You see, I was raised with knives, not love."
Myra's heart pounded. She took a step back. That smile—it was darker now. Not threatening in the loud, screaming way. But in the quiet way poison flows in the veins.
She couldn't breathe.
Ranvijay didn't move, but his voice was low. "Keep your eyes off her unless you don't want to see the world."
Aditya raised his brows, amused. "Oh? And here I thought she wasn't yours to protect."
Myra froze at that.
The silence was thunderous.
"I'll say this once, and only once," Ranvijay growled. "Leave now. Before I forget you're still my brother."
Aditya didn't flinch.
He simply smiled, leaned in ever so slightly, and whispered—
"Don't worry, I'm not taking her today. But remember, when shadows return… they never leave alone."
He turned, flicked an invisible speck off his casual shirt, and walked out the same way he came.
And it was only after he disappeared beyond the palace gates that anyone dared to move again.
Rajeshwari fell to her knees.
Anika ran to her, sobbing.
Shiv called for the doctor.
And Myra?
She just stood there, stunned… her heart rattling in her chest like a bird locked in a golden cage.
The storm had come.
And it had a name.
Aditya.