The desert sun poured molten gold upon the sandstone palace as Meera drifted through the rose courtyard. Petals clung to her silks, the marigold-scented air brushing against her cheeks. Her posture remained graceful, regal, but the heart beneath that ornate exterior was a storm waiting to break. Each step felt like a rebellion, every breath a whisper of a name she dared not speak aloud — Veer.
Lately, the palace had become a hive of suspicion. Servants scurried past her with bowed heads, and her mother's eyes now carried the weight of unsaid warnings. Even Chanda, her most loyal maid, avoided her gaze when drawing her bath or brushing her hair. But Meera's resolve only strengthened. Tonight, she would see him. She had to.
As dusk fell, she slipped away through the servant corridors, heart pounding. When she reached the old banyan near the temple shrine, she found only silence.
"Veer?"
A soft rustle behind the stone idol made her turn.
He emerged, breathless, his face streaked with sweat and dust, a shallow cut staining his tunic.
"Veer!" she gasped, rushing forward. "What happened?"
"Caught sight of two palace guards near the stables. I circled around and lost them, but it was close."
Panic churned within her. "They're watching the temples now."
He nodded, solemn. "They know. Or suspect."
She touched his arm gently. "Then we must leave. Tonight."
Veer looked at her in silence, his eyes the color of stormy skies. "Will you leave this life behind?"
She didn't hesitate. "With you? Always."
They had prepared for this — stolen coins, a change of clothes wrapped in linen, and the promise of a merchant caravan heading west toward Marwar.
Hand in hand, they slipped through the shadows, navigating alleys and passageways she had memorized as a child. They passed silent doorways, the aroma of spiced lentils drifting from kitchens, and the quiet murmurs of night prayers echoing through sandstone corridors.
As they reached the outer ramparts, the desert unfurled like a sea of silver dunes under the moonlight. Their freedom shimmered just beyond reach.
"We ride to the old well," Meera whispered. "There's a shepherd Veer knows. He'll lend us camels."
But fate loves a cruel turn.
A shout rose behind them.
"Stop! In the name of the Maharaja!"
Torches flickered, steel gleamed.
Meera's heart dropped. "Run!"
Veer grabbed her hand, and they dashed across the battlement walkway, the stone cold underfoot. Arrows sliced the air, one striking the pillar behind them. Sand kicked up in plumes as they descended a crumbling staircase carved into the cliffside.
At the bottom, the shepherd waited — an old man with skin like weathered bark and eyes filled with understanding.
"No time," Veer said. "Two camels."
He nodded, pulling them forward. Meera swung onto hers, barely gripping the reins as the beast groaned.
They rode into the desert — through shadows and starlight — the wind biting, the sand trailing like whispers behind them.
By dawn, they had crossed the salt flats. Blisters burned on Meera's fingers. Veer's wound had reopened, but he pushed forward without complaint.
They stopped by an oasis hidden behind a ridge. The camels drank. Veer collapsed by the water's edge.
"I think... I tore it again," he murmured, teeth clenched.
Meera tore a strip of her dupatta, dipped it in water, and pressed it to the wound. "You'll be fine," she whispered.
His eyes locked on hers. "You shouldn't have come."
"And leave you to face that fate alone?" she said, tears brimming. "I'd rather die in the sands with you than live a life of shadows without."
They stayed hidden for two days. Veer healed slowly. Meera learned to make fires, to listen to the calls of night creatures, to sleep beside him beneath stars older than kingdoms.
But trouble loomed.
On the third day, a caravan guard spotted them. Though the merchant welcomed them, rumors spread quickly. A Rajput princess traveling with a poet from a rival court? It was too scandalous to remain secret.
At nightfall, Meera overheard two guards whispering about a bounty. Her name. Veer's face.
"They're coming for us," she told him that night, voice steady.
"Then we keep moving," he said. "There's a fort ruin beyond the dunes. Forgotten. But safe."
The journey stretched across another brutal day. Dunes rolled endlessly, their camels faltering. But at dusk, they saw it — the crumbled silhouette of a once-mighty fort etched against the violet sky.
Inside, time stood still. Vines claimed its walls, owls nested in its crevices. But there was shelter, and above all — peace.
As Meera lay beside Veer that night, the desert wind whispering through stone arches, she knew this was their second life.
Not as princess and poet.
But as two souls bound by the courage to escape, and the fire to survive.
To be continued...