Next Day

The calm of  House didn’t last long.

By mid-morning, the sound of horses echoed through the courtyard.

Ishan stepped outside first.

And his face lit up instantly.

Ishan: “Aarav ji !”

Standing near the gates was Prince Aarav of Sitapuram—common attire, confident posture, but a warm smile that softened his entire presence.

Aarav

He stepped forward, and Ishan ran to him without hesitation.

They didn’t embrace formally like royals.

They hugged like family.

Shubman, standing a few steps behind, felt something twist in his chest.

Unnecessary.

Unreasonable.

But real.

Aarav placed a hand on Ishan’s head affectionately.

Aarav: “Kaisa hai tum?”

he asked softly.

Ishan smiled. “Theek hoon. Aap?”

Aarav: “Jab tak tum theek hai, main bhi.”

Shubman’s jaw tightened slightly.

“Zyada hi apna lag raha hai…” he thought.

Aarav finally looked at Shubman.

Arav : “Shubman.”

Their handshake was firm.

Measured.

Polite—but competitive.

Aarav noticed the tension instantly.

He smirked slightly.

After sitting together in the varanda,

Aarav’s expression turned

Aarav: " humko kuch zaruri baat karni hai ”

Ishan looked up.

Aarav: “humne sunna tum dono wapas ja rahe ho.”

The air shifted.

Sitapuram had felt like a pause.

A safe space.

Going back meant returning to reality.

Shubman—the Prince.

Ishan—the boy once punished, once sent to the forest for three months.

Sitapuram

Silence lingered.

Aarav continued,

Aarav: “tum dono ke ja ne se pahle yaha par ak mela hoga ”

Ishan blinked.

Ishan: “mela?”

Aarav: “Haan,”

Aarav nodded.

Arav: “itne saalo ke baad hum teen rajya sath mein akartrit honge.”

He counted on his fingers.

“Sitapuram.”

“Devi Puram.”

“or Mahabaleshgarh.”

The weight of unity.

Of politics.

Of history.

Aarav: “yeh mela santh hoga khushi waha hoga ,”

Aarav:“sangeet,roshni,dukhaan, mithai, jula sab rahega or hum teenrajya ak or bar sath men honge kal shaam ko hi devi Puramse patra aya hai.”

Shubman’s eyes sharpened.

Shubman “yeh toh humko pata nahitha.”

Aarav: “wapas ja kar pata kar lena ,” Aarav replied calmly.

Shubman: “jald hi .”

Ishan looked between them.

“Hum bhi jayenge?”

Aarav smiled.

Aarav: “yeh mela sabke liye hai or tum dono ko ana hi parega  .”

Shubman’s chest tightened again.

In Mahabaleshgarh, things were different.

Strict traditions.

Royal expectations.

Ishan sensed Shubman’s silence.

After Aarav left, Ishan turned to him.

Ishan: “Aap khush nahi hai?”

Shubman looked away.

Shubman : “Wahan sab alag hoga.”

Ishan: “Hum bhi alag ho jayenge?”

Ishan asked quietly.

That question hit deeper than jealousy ever could.

Shubman stepped closer.

Shubman: “Nahi.”

He held Ishan’s shoulders firmly.

Shubman: “Main rajkumar ho sakta hoon wahan.”

His voice lowered.

Shubman: “Par tum… tum kahin nahi jaoge. Na jungle. Na piche.”

Ishan searched his face.

Ishan: “hum koi musibat nahi chahte ki apke upar aye”

Shubman: “kuch nahi hoga.”

From his horse outside the gates, Aarav glanced back at the house once more.

He had seen the jealousy.

He had seen the attachment.

And he smiled to himself.

The afternoon sun was softer now.

Aarav was about to mount his horse when Ishan stepped forward.

Ishan: “Aarav ji …”

He hesitated for a second, then spoke clearly.

Ishan: “Hum Mahabaleshgarh wapas ja rahe hai. Par mela ke liye zaroor aayenge.”

Aarav studied his face carefully.

Aarav: “aoge na?”

Ishan nodded.

Ishan:“Haan. Chahe jo ho.”

All eyes shifted to Shubman.

For a brief moment, pride and responsibility flickered in his expression.

Then he spoke, steady and royal.

Shubman: “Mahabaleshgarh jayega hum wada karte hai ”

Mahabaleshgarh

Sitapuram

Devi Puram

Aarav smiled—but it wasn’t just a friendly smile.

It was thoughtful.

Almost knowing.

Aarav: “hum pratiksha karenge,” .

He mounted his horse and rode away, dust rising behind him.

After He Left

Silence returned to  House.

Ishan watched until Aarav disappeared from sight.

Shubman stepped beside him.

Shubman: “Tum usse bahut ...,”

he said casually.

Ishan glanced at him.

Ishan: “Woh humare  bhai jaise  hai.”

Shubman nodded once.

But jealousy doesn’t always listen to logic.

Shubman: “pata hai mujhe,”

he muttered.

Ishan noticed the faint tension.

He gently bumped his shoulder against Shubman’s.

Ishan: “Pati dev… aapko jalan ho rahi hai?”

Shubman scoffed.

Shubman: “Bilkul nahi.”

Ishan smiled knowingly but didn’t tease further.

As the evening approached, they began packing a small cloth bag.

clothes.

Jewels.

Personal belongings.

The reality of leaving settled slowly.

Sitapuram had felt warm. Familiar.

Mahabaleshgarh would not be as forgiving.

Ishan folded a simple kurta carefully and paused.

For no reason—

His chest felt tight.

Not because of Aarav.

Not because of Shubman.

Just… something.

Like a shadow standing far away, watching.

He couldn’t explain it.

He walked outside to get some air.

The sky was turning orange again.

Shubman came behind him quietly.

Shubman: “Kya hua?”

Ishan hesitated.

Ishan: “Pata nahi.”

He looked toward the horizon.

Ishan: “Bas ajeeb sa lag raha hai.”

Shubman: “Dar lag raha hai?”

Ishan swallowed.

Ishan: “Thoda.”

Shubman didn’t laugh.

Didn’t dismiss it.

Instead, he stood in front of him.

Shubman: “kuch bhi hoga…”

he said firmly,

Shubman: “main hoon.”

Ishan searched his eyes.

The prince of Mahabaleshgarh.

Strong. Proud. Commanding.

But right now—

Just someone trying to protect what was his.

Ishan gave a sma

ll nod.

Still…

That unease remained.

Not loud.

It's not clear.

To be continue.....

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Author's note

the festival wouldn’t be simple.

And returning home wouldn’t be either.

Somewhere, fate was preparing something.

And neither of them were ready for it yet.

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Vote, comment

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Stay tuned 😉