Mirror.
Everything changed after the mirror.
A simple object, yet nothing has been the same since.
It was a quiet night, lit only by the glow of a full moon. Harsha sat under a tree in the garden, his thoughts swirling. How can a mirror change a person so completely? he wondered.
Then, movement.
He caught a glimpse of Queen Chandra walking toward her chambers.
She was beautiful—undeniably so. Her clothing, her posture, her air—it all radiated a powerful confidence. No, he corrected himself. Ego.
And that ego had grown like a shadow… ever since the mirror entered her life.
............
Chandra walked gracefully across the marble path after dinner. As she passed the garden, she noticed a shadow—broad-shouldered, still—sitting beneath the tree. Her eyes adjusted. It was him.
Harsha…
A smile touched her lips. Tonight is my chance.
She walked on, head held high, and when she reached her room, she turned to the guards. “Leave me. I want to rest undisturbed tonight.”
The guards hesitated, confused. “But, my Queen—”
“That was an order.”
Reluctantly, they stepped away. What they didn’t notice in the darkness was that someone else was nearby—hidden in the shadows. Only the Queen knew he was there.
The King had left for a week. The castle was quiet. Who would expect anyone else in the garden this late?
As the doors closed behind the guards, Chandra slipped back into the night. She walked silently until she reached the tree where Harsha sat, lost in thought.
She slowly slid down beside him. He didn’t notice her at first, his mind drifting far from the palace.
Then—a hand, soft and warm, touched his lap.
He startled.
“Q-Queen?” he gasped, body going rigid.
In the moonlight, she shimmered. She wore only a single piece of silk— every curve, every soft line was illuminated, impossible to ignore.
Harsha’s eyes, wide with disbelief, couldn’t look away. His gaze landed on the rise of her chest as she moved closer—closer—until the warmth of her skin brushed against his.
A soft giggle escaped her lips, sultry and playful. It pulled him in. His eyes met hers—those hypnotic eyes, a swirl of grey and brown, laced with mystery and something deeper.
Her fingers trailed slowly up his chest, light as air, sending sparks across his skin. They reached the back of his neck, where she let them linger, curling ever so slightly.
Then she leaned in, her breath brushing his lips, her body pressed gently into his. Harsha could feel every inch of her against him—her warmth, her softness, her scent.
His eyes dropped to her lips—full, inviting—just inches from his own.
His heart pounded.
Just a little closer…
Snap.
Harsha pushed her away, breath ragged. Panic surged through him. He stood quickly, didn’t say a word, didn’t dare to look back.
He ran.
............
Why… why would she do that?
That night was unbearable for Harsha. He couldn’t believe how his body had betrayed him—how close he’d come to falling for her seduction. It was only by sheer luck that he had snapped out of it in time. Her beauty… it was dangerous. Like a spell cast to strip away his sense and soul.
He had no choice but to run to the waterfall. There, beneath the crashing cold water, he stood for hours, trying to calm the fire inside him.
But even the icy torrent couldn’t wash away the image of her face. Just the memory of her—those eyes, that voice—was enough to stir his body all over again.
And the worst part?
If he hadn’t stayed under that freezing water…
If even for a moment he had let himself forget…He knew he would’ve turned back.
He would have returned to her chambers, wrapped her in his arms—and held her through the night.
He would have made her cry... under his warmth.
The thought alone terrified him. Not because it wasn’t tempting, but because it was.
Those wild, shameful thoughts haunted him till dawn.
He stayed in the cold so long he fell ill, bedridden for two days. Sika tended to him gently. But there was one person missing.
Nila.
She never came. And he missed her—terribly.
Still weak, Harsha lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Maybe… maybe the Queen is being controlled by something. Maybe she’s not herself…
............
Two days later, he crossed the dining hall just as the Queen was finishing her meal. She saw him—and smiled. Slowly. Then licked her lips deliberately, eyes dark with mischief.
It sent a chill down his spine.
She knows exactly what she’s doing.
............
From that day, Harsha began avoiding her completely.
But strangely—Nila began avoiding him too.
No eye contact. No words. No visits to the kitchen. It was as if she’d vanished from his world.
Frustrated and confused, Harsha waited by a column near the corridor that evening, watching for her.
When Nila passed, he stepped out from the shadows.
“Nila,” he called.
She froze.
“…Ha-Harsha?” she mumbled.
“I—Nila, why are you—”
ZOOM.
She ran.
Gone in seconds.
Harsha stood in stunned silence.
She’s fast… damn.
But more than that—Why is she avoiding me?
His eyes narrowed.
I have no choice… I have to —
A ridiculous thought popped into his head. I have to kidnap her.
Just as he was finalizing the details of this deeply unwise plan, something cold and smooth trailed along his spine.
He flinched. Goosebumps exploded.
“Harshaa…” came the honeyed whisper.
He turned slowly, praying it was Sika with snacks.
It was not.
It was the Queen.
“I know you want me…” she purred.
Harsha’s soul left his body.
His face drained of all color.
He didn’t even reply.
He simply ran.Like his life depended on it.
............
Two nights later.
He had a plan.
His hands were sweaty. His heart pounded. But he had to do it.
He waited in the hallway, hidden in darkness.
Then he heard her voice: “My Queen, I’ll be leaving now.”
Perfect. The door closed. Her footsteps neared.
As Nila walked past his hiding spot—he grabbed her.
She gasped, then screamed.
“Put me down!!” she shouted, pounding his back with her fists. But Harsha didn’t stop. He ran straight to the waterfall, set her down gently—but she staggered back in fear.
She tried to run, but he caught her wrist. She lost her balance and fell to the ground.
“Let me go!” she shouted, crawling away in panic.
But Harsha moved over her, pinning her down with his hands on her shoulders. His breath was ragged, eyes burning with something between longing and desperation.
“Don’t touch me!” she cried, still struggling beneath him.
But he was already too close.
In one reckless moment, he leaned down and kissed her—fierce and full of everything he couldn’t say. Their lips clashed, then melted into one another, teasing and trembling. A second of breath broke between them before they met again, deeper this time, needier.
Her hands, which once pushed him away, now tangled in the cloth at his chest.
He pulled back, just slightly, and began kissing a trail down her neck—slow, deliberate. Her breath hitched as his lips found the curve of her jaw, then her ear.
“Nila… please…” he whispered, voice husky and low.
Her breath caught.
Her eyes gazed up at the star-filled sky, unfocused, as his voice melted into her skin.
She stopped fighting.
She surrendered.