Kashmir

** Hari Parbat fort, Srinagar, Kashmir **

As the court chamber brimmed with anticipation, the esteemed ministers and noble dignitaries gathered around, their murmurs fading into hushed whispers as the empty throne loomed at the front.

The air was thick with expectation, each member of the court awaiting the commencement of the proceedings.

In the solemn atmosphere, Prince Asad Hamid stepped forward with regal poise. Approaching the vacant throne, he gently rested his hand on the ornate armrest, acknowledging the weight of responsibility.

Clearing his throat, Prince Asad's voice rang out with authority, resonating through the chamber and commanding the attention of all present.

"Esteemed ministers, noble lords, and esteemed guests," he began, his tone firm yet dignified, "I stand before you today not as a prince, but as a servant of our realm."

As Prince Asad Hamid stood before the assembly, his words resonating with conviction and determination,  "In this time of turmoil, where our father has been assassinated, I promise to bring those responsible to justice and usher in an er...." 

"Remove your hand from the throne," a sharp voice commanded, cutting through the chamber with an undeniable edge, before Prince Asad could continue his speech, disrupting the flow of his words and filling the room with tension.

"You are not the appointed crown prince, and I have my right to claim that throne," the voice asserted, adding another layer of uncertainty to the already unsettled atmosphere.

All eyes turned to the entrance as the young Prince Zayne Hameed, barely sixteen years of age, strode confidently into the court, his loyal retinue trailing behind him.

His presence was bold and assertive, a stark contrast to the measured composure of his elder brother, Asad.

Prime Minister Puneet Kashyap, ever the voice of reason and diplomacy, stepped forward to address the unexpected intrusion. "Your Highness," he began, his tone respectful yet firm, "we understand your concern, but in the absence of our king, we require a regent to oversee the affairs of the realm. Our response to the empire cannot be delayed any longer."

Prince Zayne retorted firmly, "He is the illegitimate son, and in matters of pure blood, I am the rightful heir to the throne. If there has to be a regent, then it shall be me." 

Amidst the tension and uncertainty, the courtiers exchanged uneasy glances, keenly aware of the weight of the moment and the implications of the brewing conflict between the royal siblings.

Prince Asad's lips curled into a smug grin as he stepped down from the dais, his gaze locking with Zayne's. "Perhaps our little prince forgot that I am still elder than him by four years," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"And the one who is hailed as the hero of empire is himself the bastard son of emperor. Then, as their loyal vassal, why cannot I be the potential heir?"

Asad's hand rested mockingly on Zayne's shoulder as he continued, "I don't think a kid has the right to claim when his milk teeth haven't even turned yet."

Just as the tension threatened to escalate into open conflict, another voice pierced through the charged atmosphere.

It was Zara, the second daughter of the late king, her tone tinged with frustration and sorrow. "Enough, both of you!" she exclaimed, her voice resonating with authority despite her youth.

"Don't you two have any shame? Our father has just died, and you people are still fighting for the throne instead of taking actions to bring peace to the kingdom."

Asad's expression softened momentarily at his sister's words, a flicker of remorse crossing his features. "Sister, I don't wish for this either, but for bringing peace, we need authority," he responded, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation.

Zayne's eyes flashed with determination as he countered, "I'm sure he's behind all of this. Look at his greed. He's already eyeing the throne. I can't let our father's legacy be tarnished by this mistake."

Zara's voice rose in exasperation, her frustration palpable. "Stop! I can't take this anymore!". Her voice, though tinged with sorrow, carried a steely resolve born of her determination to see her father's legacy preserved and their people protected.

"The kingdom is in chaos, the culprit is yet unknown," she began, her tone measured but firm. "We don't have enough security to defend our borders, and the empire is too far away. In this mountain region, we are all on our own."

Her gaze shifted between Asad and Zayne, acknowledging the complexities of their relationship. "Even though he is from a different mother, Asad still bears our father's blood," she continued, her voice softening as she turned to Asad. "Asad, you are our elder brother. You have to forgive your brother, no matter how harsh his words may be."

With gentle insistence, Zara reached out and clasped their hands, her touch a tangible symbol of unity and familial bond. "By fighting amongst ourselves, we will only bring doom to our kingdom," she implored, her voice tinged with urgency. "We must avenge our father and bring peace to our lands."

As she attempted to bring their hands together in a gesture of reconciliation, she was met with resistance. Asad and Zayne withdrew their hands, their expressions a mix of lingering sympathy and love for their sister, tempered by the deep-seated animosity that still smouldered between them.

Zayne's frustration was evident as he retorted, "Forgive me, sister, but I simply cannot tolerate him. He's always been our father's favorite. He deceived him, and now he's deceiving you."

Asad, equally puzzled, chimed in, "I don't understand why he hates me so much. I have no desire for the throne, but I question whether his immaturity is suited for such responsibility."

The Prime Minister interjected with a suggestion, "Perhaps we have a solution. What if Princess Zara becomes the regent?" Zara hesitated, taken aback by the proposal. "Me? How could I?" she questioned, her uncertainty clear in her voice.

Zayne's eyes lit up with enthusiasm as he eagerly supported the idea. "Yes, why not? I'm certain this bastard will reveal his true colours if our sister is appointed the regent."

Asad, though initially surprised by the suggestion, responded firmly, "I have no objection. It was your sister who stood by me when I had no one else. I love her more than you."

"..Fake love", Zayne, his voice tinged with a hint of irritation, grumbled at the open display of affection between his elder brother and sister.

Zara, bewildered by the sudden turn of events, hesitated once more. "But how could I?" she murmured, grappling with the weight of the responsibility thrust upon her.

The other nobles voiced their concerns, citing traditional gender roles and expectations. However, the Prime Minister swiftly silenced them, stating, "It is indeed possible for a woman to serve as regent in times of dispute. The throne can be claimed later."

General Tenzin Wangchuk, a recently promoted young general, voiced his support for Zara's candidacy. "Princess Zara is indeed a favourable choice for regent. She is admired by the common people for her charismatic nature and can bring peace to the realm. We can rally support in her name to bolster our defence forces."

Amidst the persistent pleas from both sides, Zara reluctantly accepted the role of regent, despite her initial reservations.

** Next day at dusk, Palace gardens, Purana Qila, Delhi **

The lone palace garden echoed with the sound of laughter and playful banter. Amidst the rustling leaves and the gentle sway of the trees, a voice pierced through the air, tinged with apprehension.

"No, Aditya, stop!"

The suddenness of the plea caught the attention of maids and guards nearby, their curiosity piqued by the urgency in the girl's voice.

"Are you done already?" Aditya's playful tone danced through the garden, his voice laced with mischief.

"You're going too fast, I'm scared," the girl, Amira, begged, her words laced with a hint of desperation.

Aditya's teasing continued, his tone light but tinged with amusement. "What happened to our brave girl? Aren't you all grown up now?"

"Please, Aditya, I can't take this anymore," Amira pleaded, her exhaustion evident in her voice.

"Why don't you like my service?" Aditya's inquiry was met with another plea from Amira. 

"Please, at least slow down a little. I'll ride it myself," she begged, her words rushed and breathless.

"Why should I?" Aditya's teasing persisted, his playful demeanour evident even as Amira's desperation grew.

"I'll fall from this Jhula (tree swing), please. If you don't stop, I won't ride it again," Amira's final plea carried a note of desperation.

"Alright, easy, princess," Aditya relented, his tone softening as he listened to her request.

Amid curious glances, suspicions dissolved into understanding as they witnessed two friends enjoying a simple moment of fun in the palace garden. With laughter and playful banter, it was clear: the Aditya was simply lending a helping hand as Amira joyfully rode the custom-made Jhula ( tree swing), tied to a tree branch.

After their playful time on the tree swing, Aditya extended a charming invitation to Amira, tempting her with a mysterious delicacy she had yet to experience. Intrigued, she eagerly accepted his invitation, following him to the royal dining room.

In the tranquil setting of the royal dining room, the soft glow of candlelight danced across the elegant furnishings, casting a warm and inviting ambiance. As Amira entered, her eyes widened in surprise at the sight before her – a table set for a candlelit dinner, with Aditya standing by, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Aditya, what's all this?" Amira's curiosity was piqued as she took in the romantic setting.

Aditya flashed her a charming smile. "Just a little surprise, something special I thought you might enjoy."

Intrigued, Amira accepted his invitation and took her seat at the table, her eyes scanning the array of dishes laid out before her.

"What's this?" she asked, pointing to the unfamiliar dish set before her.

Aditya chuckled softly. "This, my dear Amira, is a delicacy called misal pav . It's made with spicy sprouted lentils, topped with crispy Sevs, onions, tomatoes, and fresh cilantro, served with soft, fluffy bread rolls called pav."

Amira's curiosity only grew as she tentatively touched the pav, feeling its soft texture beneath her fingertips. "It looks different," she remarked, her gaze lingering on the dish before her.

Aditya grinned mischievously. "Why don't you give it a try? I promise you won't be disappointed."

With a hint of hesitation, Amira took a bite of the misal pav, her eyes lighting up in delight as she savored the explosion of flavors on her palate. "Aditya.., thiz is ama... zing!" she exclaimed, her words muffled by the delicious food still in her mouth.

Aditya watched with amusement as Amira lost herself in the blissful experience, her cheerful expression and cute sound bringing a smile to his face. 

Amira's eyes sparkled with gratitude as she praised Aditya for dedicating his entire day to cheer her up. However, her joy was tinged with concern, fearing she was taking him away from his royal duties.

Aditya, with a gentle smile, reassured her that his time with her was far from wasted, but he couldn't shake off his responsibilities entirely.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Aditya surprised Amira by offering her a unique solution - to become his secretary. Amira's surprise was evident as she questioned why he needed another assistant when he already had a butler.

Aditya chuckled softly. "A butler's duties are different. Your role would be to assist me with important matters, ensuring I stay on track with my obligations."

Amira nodded in understanding, her heart warmed by the thought of being able to support Aditya in such a meaningful way.

Aditya explained further, "You'll only need to take notes of important matters and remind me when the time comes, like scheduled meetings or what's next. It will ease my burden significantly, allowing me to focus on more crucial tasks."

Amira nodded, her cheeks flushing with shyness. "I-I understand," she stammered softly. "I'll do anything to assist you, Aditya."

"But," she added hesitantly, "for this time, since it's a job, you'll have to fulfil my wish at the end of the month."

Aditya agreed with a smile, acknowledging her terms. "Of course, Amira. I promise to honour your request."

As their conversation lightened, Aditya reached out for a hug, a playful glint in his eyes. But to his surprise, Amira's demeanour shifted, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

"I'm sorry, Aditya," she teased, her tone light and teasing. "I can't. As your hired employee, it wouldn't be appropriate."

Aditya's expression faltered for a moment, caught off guard by her unexpected response. He blinked in surprise before regaining his composure, though a hint of amusement danced in his eyes.

"I see," he replied, his voice tinged with playful disbelief. "Well played, Amira. I shall remember it."

Amira giggled at his reaction, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she enjoyed her small victory. Aditya couldn't help but smile back, appreciating her playful banter amidst their serious conversation.

At that moment, Raamya made her entrance with her guards, donned in her uniform and clad in armour, a gentle reminder of the passing time. "Amira, it's time," she said, her tone gentle yet firm.

Amira nodded, her gaze lingering on Aditya for a moment longer before turning to follow Raamya's escort guards, her mind still reeling from their playful exchange.

As the guards left, taking the moment as opportune, Raamya gave Aditya a hug, her embrace lingering for a moment longer than usual.

She leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I'm feeling jealous, Prince. You'll have to take care of me on another occasion."

With a playful smirk, she pulled away, leaving Aditya in a daze to figure out how he would appease her for the jealousy she felt from seeing them enjoy their time alone.