The next morning, the caravan paused for a midday meal in a small, well-maintained village just entering the official boundaries of Kanvargarh territory. Maharaja Arjun Rathore and the officers spread out scrolls, discussing the recent ambush and the route ahead.
Aadhya sat nearby with Yashodhara, Tanishka, and Ridhima. The step-sisters, emboldened by their smooth flattery toward Yashodhara, felt confident enough to launch another subtle verbal jab at Aadhya while appearing entirely charming to anyone watching.
"It is utterly shocking that a powerful kingdom like Kanvargarh cannot keep its own trade routes safe," Tanishka declared, loud enough for Arjun Rathore to overhear. She offered a look of sweet concern toward Aadhya. "My dear sister, you must be terrified. It seems this kingdom, for all its grand claims, is structurally unsound. Our father would never subject his people to such chaos."
Ridhima jumped in, playing the helpful analyst. "Yes, they waste so much energy fighting for those barren, worthless territories to the south. Such poor resource management. If they focused on diplomacy rather than dusty battlefields, perhaps they wouldn't need a marriage alliance at all."
They had painted a clear picture for Yashodhara: Aadhya was a fearful liability, and Kanvargarh was a chaotic, resource-poor kingdom undeserving of their alliance.
Aadhya lifted her water cup to her lips, taking a slow sip. The cold fire of the Hunter's truth was ready. She would not lash out in anger; she would dissect them with logic.
She lowered the cup, meeting Ridhima's smug gaze with serene composure.
"You observe the dust, Ridhima, but you fail to observe the trade," Aadhya said, her voice soft but carrying a chilling precision that cut through the garden's hum.
The sisters froze, realizing Aadhya was actually engaging. Yashodhara turned, captivated.
"The territories to the south, which you call 'barren'," Aadhya continued, her eyes sweeping the scroll-laden table where Arjun Rathore pretended not to listen, "are not worthless. As any competent strategist knows, the south controls the Great Eastern Road, which flows directly from the merchant ports to the northern salt mines. That land is the strategic choke point for all regional imports."
She leaned forward slightly, her demeanor shifting from shy princess to brilliant commander. "Furthermore, the very reason the territory appears dusty is because the ground holds the largest known deposits of iron ore outside of the royal reserves. To call the ruler who secured that land an idiot is not merely impolite, but an admission of staggering political ignorance. Prince Rudra did not fight for sand; he fought for the industrial backbone and the taxable future of his kingdom."
Tanishka's smile vanished. Ridhima's mouth opened, but no sound came out. They were utterly blindsided by the depth and authority of her knowledge. They had been exposed as ignorant, vapid women focused only on appearances, while Aadhya had just demonstrated a geopolitical mastery usually reserved for the war council.
Yashodhara's eyes widened, then her lips curved into a dazzling smile of pure, unadulterated respect.
Maharaja Arjun Rathore, who had been listening intently, finally looked up from his scrolls. He did not speak a single word, but the sharp, approving nod he gave Aadhya was worth a thousand compliments.
That evening, Aadhya found herself walking alone outside the camp, the victory over her sisters satisfying but also intensely unsettling. She had used his gift, and now she awaited his judgment.
He appeared, leaning against a rough stone wall. He wasn't smiling. He was simply watching her, his eyes dark and heavy.
"Effective," he drawled, his voice a low, gravelly note of appreciation. "The little songbirds are chirping a different tune now, are they?"
Aadhya turned, her heart thumping against her ribs. She was still riding the high of her intellectual win, and her defiance was elevated.
"Your information was accurate," Aadhya stated, holding his intense gaze. "You armed me well. But I demand to know why you would share military intelligence with a stranger."
He pushed off the wall and took two slow, purposeful steps toward her, his proximity immediately smothering her breath. The air between them thickened, charged with the raw, possessive energy she was beginning to recognize.
"You ask why," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous, intimate level. "Because the woman who stands at my side must be sharp enough to wield my secrets without breaking. You proved today that you are that woman."
His gaze dropped to her mouth, lingering for a moment that made the blood rush to her cheeks. He then fixed her eyes again, his dark pupils devouring her.
"And because, Aadhya," he confessed, the word feeling like a piece of dark, shared intimacy, "when you stand tall and expose their pathetic ignorance, when the fire of strategy burns in your eyes... you are impossibly hot."
A flood of scorching heat rushed over Aadhya's skin. The sheer, naked intensity of his assessment—his admiration for her intellect mixed with his explicit, dark attraction—shattered her composure. She clenched her fists, her breath hitched. Her planned response—a cool, strategic thank you—fled her mind.
He closed the final space between them, his large hands reaching out to bracket her face. He did not seize her; he held her with a terrifying gentleness, forcing her to look only at him.
"You look furious and flushed," he whispered, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone. "The perfect blend of the tigress and the woman I want." He leaned in, his mouth close to her ear. "Tell me to stop, Aadhya. Tell me you don't want the claim."
She was trapped, dizzy with the scent of leather and earth, and the overwhelming heat of his dominance. Her mind screamed stop, but her body—that traitorous, submissive tigress—leaned slightly into his touch, desperately craving the possession she feared.
"I... I can't," she whispered, the words choked and barely audible.
His dark eyes flashed with triumph. He didn't kiss her. He simply tilted his head, bringing his lips impossibly close to the tender skin beneath her ear, and spoke with a low, commanding rasp.
"Good. Know this, then: every man who looks at you from this day forward will know you are mine. Not by ring, not by blood, but by claim. And I will hunt down anyone who dares to challenge that."
He released her face, his gaze lingering on her flushed, trembling vulnerability for one final, possessive moment.
He melted away. Aadhya stood alone, her entire body alight with a terrifying, thrilling heat. She had won the battle against her sisters, but she was losing the war against the Hunter. The closer she got to Kanvargarh, the tighter his invisible leash became.