Aadhya stood in the center of her chamber, ignoring Meera's frantic concern over the bruise-like mark Rudra's hand had left on her collarbone. A single, dark smile curved Aadhya's lips. He gave me a battlefield, and he gave me the weapons. Now I fight.
She knew the truth: Rudra's possessive display was designed to be terrifying and arousing, to bind her to him, and to send a clear message to all contenders. The King had removed himself as the object of her sisters' pursuit, but he had left them with one last, tempting thread of hope: Devendra Singh Chauhan.
Devendra was a known quantity—charming, safe, and seemingly devoted to Aadhya's hand. He was their last, best chance to block the Rathore alliance, as they knew King Veer Rajan still held doubts about Rudra.
Aadhya needed to sever that thread now, before her sisters could weave it into a dangerous counter-plot.
The next morning, Aadhya found Tanishka and Ridhima in the common sitting room, sulking over their morning tea. They were discussing their departure date, their voices sharp with resentment.
"We will leave as soon as possible," Ridhima declared. "Father should be informed immediately that this match is a disaster. Rudra is a tyrant. He will crush her. We must push for Devendra Singh Chauhan."
Tanishka nodded emphatically. "Devendra is our only hope now. He is polished, kind, and he already adores Aadhya. He would never humiliate his bride like that."
Aadhya entered the room, her composure serene, her eyes holding a deep, thoughtful expression. She sat down, ignoring their resentful stares.
"If you truly wish for Father to consider Devendra," Aadhya began, her voice calm and analytical, "then you must arm him with facts, not just fear of Rudra."
The sisters were instantly suspicious but also intrigued. Aadhya rarely offered advice.
"What do you mean?" Tanishka asked coldly.
"Devendra is too perfect," Aadhya stated, looking down into her tea cup. "He is universally lauded as a gentleman, but in politics, universal praise is usually a shield."
She lifted her gaze, meeting Ridhima's eye directly. "You two are masters of observation, are you not? You claim to know everything about courtly society. But what do you know of Devendra's finances?"
Ridhima scoffed. "Finances? His estate is one of the oldest in the kingdom."
"Old does not mean solvent, Ridhima," Aadhya corrected softly. "An old estate means old debts, and old feuds. He is charming, yes, but charm does not pay for armies. Rudra's kingdom is built on iron and strategic control. What is Devendra's foundation?"
She let the question hang, allowing her words to take root. She knew the sisters would not believe her outright, but she knew their ambition and malice would drive them to investigate.
"If you want to discredit Rudra, you must prove Devendra is a stronger alternative," Aadhya concluded, rising to leave. "But if Devendra's armor is merely polished charm, and he is hiding weakness, your efforts to push him will only expose you as politically naive. You risk more than you realize."
Aadhya left the room, leaving behind not a direct accusation, but a seed of doubt planted deep in the fertile ground of their ambition. They would not rest until they knew the truth about Devendra's viability, and Aadhya knew exactly what they would find.
Aadhya returned to her chamber, feeling the familiar, thrilling awareness that the King was watching her moves. She had deliberately used his style—logic, strategy, and subtle control—to execute her counter-move.
She was not disappointed.
A single red rose, dark and velvety, lay on her writing desk. Tucked beneath the bloom was a strip of black, coarse leather, the same material the Hunter wore. It was a clear, unmistakable sign that Rudra had been in her room again.
A single message was etched into the leather with a knife:
A curious move, little tigress. Playing with the small mice to lure the snake. I appreciate the intelligence of the attack. Know this: I am not afraid of your snake. But I require your full focus.
I have commanded the presence of Devendra Singh Chauhan. He will arrive within three days.
A cold wave of shock and raw adrenaline hit Aadhya. He commanded Devendra's presence?
This was Rudra's unparalleled, absolute dominance in action. Not only was he tracking her every move, but he was intervening directly, forcing the confrontation to occur on his ground, under his terms. He was removing the last barrier to their marriage by summoning his rival, making Aadhya's hand the ultimate prize in a contest only he could win.
He was testing her, giving her the perfect weapon (the truth about Devendra's weakness) and setting the stage for her to use it.
A rush of fierce, possessive loyalty mixed with her rising fury. He was terrifying, demanding, and utterly ruthless—but he was fighting for her, eliminating every possible obstacle without her having to ask.
A dark, potent heat flared in her chest. She crumpled the leather, forcing herself to maintain control.
Three days, King. You want a display of power. I will give you a lesson in ruthlessness.
Aadhya walked to her window, looking out over the massive, silent Kanvargarh fort. The game had just escalated from court whispers to a battle between kings, and she was the undisputed prize.