In the alternate universe, set in the medieval period, where power rules and superstition lingers in the thin air, the tale of The Last Princess unfolds.
For the hazel eyed king has secrets, desires and motives.
The champagne eyed queen has fears...
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The horse galloped through the countless dead bodies of soldiers. The wind blew, causing the sand to dance in the air. Soldiers holding red flags followed their mighty king. They had won. Yet Shivaay did not care about anything else at that moment, except his wounded queen whose hair was lifted by the air as she laid still with him on the horse. A king had won, but a lover had lost.
The royal gates of the kingdom were opened by the guards. Jubilance was wiped away from their faces seeing their princess. Fresh blood was gushing out of her wound. Her face which had been without any blemish, now had blood smudged on it.
Shivaay hopped down the horse, not before picking his queen up. He ran towards the castle gates, with her curled up motionless in his arms. The news of Anika being injured had already reached her father. The man who had already been sick looked even distressed. His eyes went as wide as saucers seeing her.
Before Ayush could comment, Gayatri rushed towards them, gasping loudly.
"Raj vaid ko bulaiyye," (call the royal doctor) the coldness in his tone was frightening. He sounded as if he was a second away from yelling at everyone.
Little were they aware of what he was doing through right now.
The next series of events were a blur for Shivaay. The raj vaid came rushing. Singhall had two raj vaids, one male other female. Good for them, cause he wasn't going to leave his wounded sparrow with an unknown male.
Anika was taken away from him. Though he wanted to accompany her, he couldn't. Only two people, the vaid and a maid were allowed when a royal was being treated. Gayatri had made him understand that he too was wounded and had soil, blood and sand all over him- which might be harmful for her wound.
Shivaay was seething in anger. His Anika was wounded. She couldn't defend herself. What if somebody decided to attack her now? The wounds or the dried blood he had on his body did not affect him as much as the wound of her body did.
It was Anika's father who had sent him to get his wounds dressed. If it had been somebody else, they would have to meet the wrath of the Chakravarti, but it was Anika's father. Shivaay took a few deep breaths before silently acquiescing.
Shiavay dressed his wounds himself, he did not show his wounds to others. Anger and worry clouded his mind. Anika. That woman. He felt so mad at her. That arrow was meant for him, not her. He didn't know what he would do if anything happened to her.
Seconds converted to minutes and minutes turned into hours. Shivaay stood outside the door, waiting for the vaid to call him in. Anika was still unconscious, that was what he was told when the maid had come out to fetch she herbs.
Did the bleeding stop? Did she wake up? What was her condition? How was the wound? Was the arrow venomous? No. It couldn't be. Shivaay took a deep breath. Questions did not leave his mind and worry continued to fill his heart.
Gayatri had come to call him for having food, he had declined. He would not leave her alone, especially when she was this wounded. He refused to move away from the door and continued to stand outside.
Shivaay didn't know how much time had passed when the door opened and the maid came out. He bombarded her with questions once again. The maid meekly answered that Anika's wound had finally stopped bleeding and the raj vaid had applied a paste of exquisite herbs on her wound. She was weak, thus had not regained her consciousness yet. Shivaay was sick of her stammering and barged inside the chamber.
"Anika kaesi hai?" (How is Anika?) Shivaay asked, the vaid was startled to see the king and quickly got up from beside Anika. She gestured to the maid to take the used fabrics out. Shivaay's eyes travelled to his wife, who layed on the bed, vulnerable, weak and still.
She looked nothing like the Anika he knew. His feisty little sparrow. His heart clenched painfully. This was indirectly caused by him.
He glanced at the maid, who had collected all the fabrics. They were all soaked in blood.
"Shukr hai ki woh teer zehrila nehi tha," the doctor said causing Shivaay to look at her, "Bohot khoon nikla hai rajkumari ka. Kal subha tak hosh aajayega inhe. Kamzor hai, isiliye behosh hai. Do-teen hafte tak roz ye dawai lagani paregi," Shivaay nodded, causing her to continue. (I am thankful that the arrow was not venomous. She had lost an ample amount of her blood. She would hopefully regain her consciousness by tomorrow morning. She is weak, that is why she is unconscious. She must apply this medicine for two to three weeks)
"Aj raat intezar karna parega unke hosh mein aane ka," Shivaay excused her, not before asking if Anika needed any other medication for the night. The vaid replied in negative before leaving them alone. (For her to regain her consciousness, we must wait for tonight)
Shivaay shifted his entire attention to his wife. He felt guilt blossom in his heart. He was supposed to protect her, save her, take care of her, but yet she was the one saving his life. Not once, but twice.
He had been furious at her when he had brought her here. Why did she come in front of the arrow? She had hurt herself, making death knock on their door. He couldn't even imagine what would have happened if the bleeding had not stopped or if the arrow had been poisonous.
Shivaay went closer to her, hesitantly taking his place beside her. This had been her room in her maternal castle, where she had always been safe and happy, but due to him she was wounded today. She was in pain, she was suffering.
Shivaay placed his hand on hers. Her hand was cold and her face pale, there were small cuts here and there which were taken care of. He inwardly hissed upon seeing the wound. The wound had darkened, courtesy to the blood which had taken a long time to stop flowing. He placed her hand on his chest as a memory crossed his mind.
How she had touched his cheek on the battlefield.
He felt as if he had lost her. The thought itself was terrifying.
"Anika," he mumbled, kissing her palm.
There was a single large chandelier in the room, the only source of lighting for the night. There was no moon in the vast sky. As if it had hidden itself from the blood and gore. The candles burnt as the wax melted. Shivaay placed his warm lips on the cold skin of her forehead, kissing the skin softly.
