In an extraordinary twist of fate, the soul of a modern-day young woman named Aarna finds itself inexplicably swapped with that of a princess from the 9th century, wedded to none other than the formidable Rajadhiraja Yashwardhan Rao. Yashwardhan fal...
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Darkness. Sadness. Dead.
That’s how Yashwardhan felt.
He was curled up in a corner of his chamber, his eyes fixed on Aarna—no longer his Aarna—shouting, yelling, crying out in agony, and demanding to go back to the 21st century. Her voice, once melodious, now cut through him like a blade. She wasn’t his Aarna anymore; she was a specter of the past, a painful reminder of everything he had lost.
Yashwardhan didn’t care why Aarna wanted to go back. He didn’t care about his surroundings. He didn’t care that he was the almighty king of kings. None of it mattered anymore.
Yash. That’s how she used to call him, with love in her eyes, with care in her voice.
Yash. The name rolled off her tongue with a softness and feminine energy that was uniquely hers.
Yash. The nickname she had given him, a symbol of their intimate bond.
His eyes were bloodshot from crying continuously for two days. His body felt weak, drained of all strength, as he hadn't touched a single grain of food. His mind was consumed by a single word, a single name.
Aarna. Aarna. Aarna.
Each repetition was a dagger to his heart, reminding him of what he could never have again. His kingdom, his duties, his honor—none of it held meaning without her. She had been his light, his life, his everything.
“Yashwardhan,” a voice called, but it sounded distant, almost unreal. He barely registered the presence of his advisors and mother, their concerned faces blurring together. They spoke of responsibilities, of the kingdom’s needs, but their words fell on deaf ears.
He had made the ultimate sacrifice, believing it was the only way to save her. To save her life, he had to send her back to her time, breaking both their hearts in the process. But what he hadn’t anticipated was the unbearable emptiness that would follow.
A memory flashed before his eyes—Aarna’s laughter as they walked through the palace gardens, her hand in his. The way her eyes sparkled when she spoke of her world, her dreams, her desires. He had been enchanted, mesmerized by every word, every gesture. She had been his everything.
And now she was gone.
“Yashwardhan, you must eat,” his mother implored, but he ignored it as if their voices were not reaching to his ears. Food was the last thing on his mind. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. All he could do was remember.
“Yash,” her voice echoed in his mind. That single syllable, spoken with so much love, had been his anchor. Now it was a haunting reminder of his loss.
He remembered the day he had made the decision. The temple, the hidden passage, the portal—everything was a blur. All he knew was that he had to save her, even if it meant losing her forever.
