Harsha didn’t understand why, but every day, he found himself waiting—hoping—for a glimpse of Nila. The feeling was new, unexplained. Yet undeniable. He would sneak out of the kitchen, often dodging Sika’s watchful eyes, just for a few precious moments with her.
Each day, they grew closer. Sharing stolen glances, quiet laughs, whispered conversations behind pillars or trees. And when they couldn’t meet, something inside them felt unsettled. Empty.
...........
One warm afternoon, as usual, Harsha waited near the garden, crouching behind a tree like a mischievous child.
“Nila... Nila! Over here!” he called in a hushed voice.
Recognizing his voice, Nila looked around curiously. Suddenly, a head popped out from behind the tree, grinning.
She giggled at the sight of the broad-shouldered man trying to hide behind a slim trunk. “Harsha, what are you doing? Sneaking around again?”
“I don’t want to get caught by Mother,” he said, turning his head left and right in panic.
“Harshaaa!” came Sika’s furious voice from a distance.
“Oh no...” he muttered, then, without thinking, grabbed Nila’s hand and ran behind a nearby pillar.
“Har...Harsha?” Nila gasped as she stumbled behind him.
Voices echoed nearby.
“I saw him go that way!” a kitchen staff member shouted.
“This is bad,” Harsha whispered. Still holding her hand, he pushed open a small door to a storage room and pulled her inside, shutting the door quickly behind them.
In the sudden darkness, his back leaned against the door, his chest rising and falling. He hadn’t realized it—but he was holding Nila close, her shoulders beneath his hands, pressed to his chest.
There was no intent—just instinct. Panic.
Only when he heard her soft, trembling voice—“Har...Harsha...” —did he realize the position they were in.
She was shaking.
He instantly let go. “I—I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—It just—” he stammered, completely flustered. “I didn’t want to get caught… I just wanted to talk to you.”
Nila covered her face, unable to speak.
Seeing that, Harsha grew more nervous. “Please don’t cry... I’m sorry.” His voice softened. “I was just... I didn’t want to lose the moment. I like spending time with you.”
He hesitated, then reached out and gently touched her hand.
Nila peeked through her fingers, her face glowing red—down to her ears. She lightly pushed him, but his body didn’t budge.
He was shocked—not by the push, but by her flushed face.
Her hand remained on his chest. Instinctively, he placed his hands over hers and leaned in, drawn to her presence. His gaze fell to her lips.
She shut her eyes tightly, lips trembling. “Ha… Harsha…” she whispered.
His heart thudded.
He wanted more.
“Where is that boy?!”
A voice pierced the silence. It jolted them both.
Nila slipped out of his hold and ran.
...........
Harsha stood frozen.
What just happened?
His heart felt like it might explode. He could still feel her small, trembling form in his arms. Her wrist—so delicate. Her shoulder barely the size of his palm. And her lips… so close…
The memory surged back in vivid detail. He covered his burning face with one hand.
“I like her…” he whispered, breathless.
...........
Nila ran without knowing where her feet were taking her. Only when she reached the back garden, hidden behind a large tree, did she finally stop and catch her breath.
Her heart still pounded wildly.
The scene replayed in her mind—again and again. His hand grabbing hers as they ran. The door slamming shut. His chest rising and falling as she leaned into him. The warmth of his hand on her bare shoulder. His panicked voice, so close, so vulnerable.
She had covered her face in embarrassment, only to hear him nervously trying to explain, thinking she was crying. Then silence. Then the touch of his hand over hers. How he held her fingers, gently coaxing her to look up.
She could barely move. When she’d tried to push him away, she hadn't even managed to shift him. Her hands had landed on his chest—so solid, so warm. And when their eyes locked… she couldn’t look away.
Thump… Thump…
His heartbeat had matched hers.
Thump… Thump…
His face had been so close.
Thump… Thump…
“Harsha… I like you…”
She whispered the words, burying her face in her palms again, cheeks blazing red.
...........
Meanwhile, Queen Chandra had plans of her own.
Unaware of what was blossoming between Harsha and Nila, she believed Harsha was slowly falling for her. Every day, she found reasons to summon him. She would set up a picnic beneath a tree in the garden, insist Harsha be the one to bring her food—even when other servants were available.
She dressed as seductively as the royal dress code allowed. Low necklines, bare legs, rich fabrics that clung to her hips. She believed Harsha’s obedience was proof he was already under her spell.
...........
It was a warm afternoon. Chandra lay against the tree, one knee raised, exposing her thigh. Her dress clung to her curves, and she had dismissed all guards—only Nila was allowed by her side.
Harsha arrived with a tray of jasmine tea and snacks. He placed it carefully on the cloth beside the Queen.
His eyes darted to her exposed skin, then quickly looked away. His face flushed red.
Chandra smiled. He’s mine now.
But what she didn’t see was the real cause of his reaction.
Nila stood behind her.
...........
That day felt different. Harsha’s heart raced—but not because of Chandra.
He saw the Queen, her usual bold posture, her gaze filled with confidence. But then—Nila. Behind her. Watching. Their eyes met.
Nila quickly looked away, her cheeks turning redder than roses. She was fully covered, modest and elegant—yet Harsha’s imagination betrayed him. What lay beneath those soft layers?
His face grew hot again. He took a deep breath to steady himself.
Stay calm.Don’t forget why you’re here.
But his mind was already drifting back…
To a small room…To a heartbeat against his chest…
To a girl with rose-pink lips…And a truth he couldn’t ignore.