The Cursed Princess of Suryagarh: Book 1

15. The mystery man

Adya's palm clasped around Shreya's wrists, and the latter also had her eyes widened in surprise. For starters, the handsome stranger in front of her was just that. A stranger whom she had never seen in her life. Additionally, the two girls had been plopped on the sandy ground, those red silken scarves around their mouths with only their eyes and the bridge of their noses peeking out. Hence, the mere thought that the man had identified and recognized the girl on a land far away from her own, and even in a town distant from the city where she was a tourist, was unsettling and disturbing.

Shreya let out a rash breath and took off the scarf from around her face when the grinning man perched next to her. "Hi... do I know you?"

The man chuckled and glimpsed at the girl's company, and his gaze softened. A bright smile, not at all farcical, showed up as he peered at the princess with nothing short of reverence and immense affection. "Princess... Adya?"

Adya's breath hitched in her throat, and she hurriedly clutched onto the phone in her hands, hoping her brother would locate her and save her from the predicament she had somehow managed to land herself in.

The man noticed the action and the fear she was in, and he pursed his lips. His focus went back to the dumbfounded Shreya. "How are you?"

Shreya blinked. She could sense Adya was a shivering mess beside her, and she quickly grasped the princess's palm and squeezed it in reassurance. Her eyes never left the man. "Again, do I know you?"

The man chortled and shook his head. "I don't think so, no."

"Then how do you know me and my friend?"

He scratched his chin and peered at her with so much ferociousness and intensity that she trembled. Until he blinked once, and there was a lot of warmth and tenderness in his gaze. "You look just like her."

She gulped hard. She was just so frustrated and weary after listening to the same set of phrases thrown together to create a jumbled mess in her mind and an identity crisis in her heart that she didn't acknowledge when words tumbled out of her mouth. "Yeah, I know. Dead princess. Long gone. Cheated on the prince. Fell for a commoner. So?"

Perhaps it was the harshness in her cadence or the acerbity of the truth, but he was definitely taken aback. It took him a second to gather his composure and flash another vivacious smile at her. "Meera..." He grinned. "Wasn't she just the most exquisite maiden in all of Rajputana?"

She felt anger bubble through her. "So? I asked how you know me, and you are spinning tales about Meera and Rajputana. I am not Meera, and this is not Rajputana anymore."

He flinched—probably he just feigned it for a theatrical after-effect—and chuckled again. "Didn't mean to offend you, Miss Awasthy." He forwarded his hand to her for a shake. "Welcome to Sumedhnagar. Actually," he beamed, "welcome to India."

Her nose flared, and she cast a glance at the outstretched arm before flashing her eyes at him.

He was visibly piqued at her insouciance, and the feral expression returned to his features. Springing to his feet, dusting the sand and grime off his jeans, he peered at the still-nervous Adya. "It was nice meeting you, Princess Adya. Give my regards to your brother." And he strode off towards the Ferris wheel, vanishing within the blink of an eye in the nasty crowd.

Adya and Shreya exchanged nervous glances with each other, both comprehending what the other was trying to say and convey via the silent trading. An extremely strange occurrence had chanced, and they weren't certain if they should keep sitting any longer.

With her lips quivering, Adya clutched onto the numerous shopping bags lying near her feet. "It's really late. Probably we should start heading back home."