Description
The desert wind carried the scent of jasmine and the hushed whispers of the Marwar court. At forty, Maharaja Veer Singh was a man carved from granite and responsibility. His face, etched with the lines of a hundred battles and a thousand royal decrees, betrayed nothing. He was a king, first and foremost, a ruler of a kingdom that stretched across golden sands. His heart, if he still had one, was a well-guarded fortress. He had married the princess of a neighboring state, a girl named Aditi, to secure a shaky alliance. She was twenty, a vivid rose in a world of muted colors. To him, she was a political necessity, a youthful presence in his life that he did not quite know how to handle. He treated her with the careful, distant respect one would show a valuable but delicate heirloom. But Maharani Aditi did not see herself as a jewel on display. She saw the man, not the title. From the moment she had first glimpsed him on the day of their engagement, a man so powerful yet so solitary, her heart had been captured. It wasn't a childish crush; it was a consuming, all-encompassing love that burned in her chest like the desert sun. She studied him, memorizing the way his brow furrowed when he was deep in thought, the rare, gentle curve of his lips when he spoke to his trusted advisor, and the way his hand would often rest on the hilt of his sword, a subconscious reflex of a warrior. Her fascination bordered on an obsession, a secret she kept fiercely hidden beneath the silk of her saris and the veil of her smile.
Chapter 1
