ADHVAY Pov

The morning light in the palace never arrives quietly. It filters through carved stone jails, warms the marble floors, and touches everything as if asking permission. Even Sun knows this land belongs to the VARAMANS.

I woke to the familiar glow, the soft hum of air mixing with faint temple Bells from river banks. For a few seconds, I remained still_ listening. A king must learn to listen before he speaks, before he commands, before he breathes.

I stood and walked across my chamber. My steps halted before the portrait on the far wall.

QUEEN DEVYANI VARMAN.

My mother.

Her gaze in the portrait was gentle. Gentle in a way world never is. I lost her when I was eight. Yet, some wound dont fade . They simply learn how to breathe without bleeding.

"Amma ( Mother)....."

The word barely left my throat.

I touched the frame_ not the canvas. I am a Prince. I do not crave softness. But I remember it.

A knock at my door broke the silence.

"Enter", I said.

Rudra Uncle stepped in, posture firm, eyes steady. The only man in the palace who speaks to me as though I am still human_ not a crown.

"Your Highness", he greeted.

"Call me Adhvay, uncle . How many times should I remind you?"

"Adhvay", he smiled.

"Yes", I smiled back.

"The threats are increasing. The opposition party is stirring old loyalties. I recommend assigning a personal bodyguard to your detail, effective immediately."

I sighed. Not annoyed _ simply tired of being protected from the world I am supposed to rule.

"A bodyguard?", I chuckled, "I can defend myself, Rudra uncle. You know that."

He nodded, accepting the pride.

"This isn't about your skill, Adhvay. It's about eliminating risk before it reaches striking distance".

I looked away, jaw tightening.

Risk. Blood. Betrayal.

The kingdom survives on old ghosts.

"So, Who is this bodyguard?" , I asked.

Rudra uncle hesitated for a moment, "My niece".

I turned to him sharply

"A woman?".

Not disbelief _ concern.

"I will not endanger her life". His voice held ground.

"She doesn't need your protection. She trained in every form of combat, every weapon , every stance."

I studied him_ Rudra uncle ,the man who has never exaggerated, never spoken to impress.

He continued, slower this time:

"Meet her once.

Fight with her.

If you decide she is unfit, the matter ends."

Silence .

A challenge.

I exhaled, "Fine. Call her here."

Rudra uncle bowed_ and left.

I looked once more at my mother's portrait.

Something changed in the air.

A woman bodyguard?

I didn't know her name yet. Or her face.

But fate had already begun moving toward me_ quietly like footsteps.

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AUTHOR'S POV

Far away from Amaravathi, where the winter winds of Jammu cut sharper than steel, MYRA stood against the cold like it meant nothing. She had been shaped to withstand far more than weather.

Her morning routine was precise_ methodical. No wasted movement. No hesitation. Silence was her companion.

The phone beside her vibrated.

Only one person called her without warning.

She answered without greeting _ their bond never needed unnecessary words.

"Myra...", Rudra dev's voice held its usual calm authority.

"Yes, mamayya ( uncle, mother's brother)?".

"I need you to return Amaravathi."

A simple sentence. But it struck like a stone breaking still water.

Amaravathi _ the city she left behind, the city she never allowed herself to claim. She had no memories of her childhood there. A home she was never sure was hers.

She didn't respond immediately.

"This concerns the Crown Prince", Rudra continued, "we need someone we can trust completely."

Myra's throat tightened a bit, though no one could have noticed _ not even herself.

"A bodyguard assignment?",She asked.

"Yes, for Prince Adhvay Pratap Varman. Your presence is necessary".

She knew better than to ask why she was choosen. Rudra Dev never made decisions driven by emotion.

"Am I being ordered ?",Her voice remained even.

"No, you are being trusted, and it's my request", Rudra Dev said.

That was enough.

Myra closed her eyes for a moment _ in acceptance.

"I will return", she said.

"I'll arrange your travel", Rudra Dev exhaled softly from the other side.

The call ended.

Myra rose , movements steady.

She packed only essentials:

Her daggers.

Her side arm.

Training gloves.

No photographs.

Myra didn't collect memories. She collected scars.

When she stepped outside, the wind hit her sharp, cold. She didn't even blink. She survived storms much worse.

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