Legacy Unveiled: The Hidden Heir

Chapter 33: Disillusional...Someone clearly

The nightmare was a fucking inferno this time. Flames everywhere, heat so intense it felt like the devil himself was roasting marshmallows on my skin. I saw a kid—maybe ten—his eyes pleading as he clung to my hand. "Run, Kiran," he choked out. I woke up gasping, drenched in sweat, with my brother Ishaan's face etched into my brain. Fantastic.

I downed some water like it was life support. It was 3 AM, and sleep was off the table. The tent felt like a coffin, the nightmare's stench hanging around like a bad fart.

The boys must've heard me. Their tent rustled, probably with them tossing and turning in their little pity party. I couldn't care less. I needed to get the hell out and escape their fake concern.

Morning came with its usual groggy mess. The boys staggered out, looking like they'd been hit by a truck. They immediately gravitated to their girlfriends—Madhav to Mohini, Shivansh to Geeta, Pragyan to Ishana, and Arnav to Madhu. 

The girls, still half-asleep, shot me looks that could cut glass. They hated me. It was clear as day. They loathed how the boys—who I couldn't give a rat's ass about—actually gave me some attention.

I strolled back from my early morning adventure, dressed like a runaway in jeans and a black hoodie. I probably smelled like a dumpster. My hair was a mess, like I'd been through a wind tunnel. I ignored their stares and whispers, grabbed an apple, and started munching, scrolling through my phone, and blasting music.

While they gorged on breakfast, I went to the car to grab some stuff. They watched me with their beady eyes but kept their mouths shut. I had a scrap of paper with an address peeking out of my pocket.

The address led to the cemetery where my real parents were buried, deep in a dark forest by a secret meadow, surrounded by mountains and a stream. I also had the address of the burned-down palace. An old guy at the records office gave me these details, his eyes dripping with pity.

"Fate was a real bitch to those good folks," he'd said, voice shaking. "Some say the princess survived. The crowned prince, Ishaan, rebuilt the palace and rules Agnesya now. They say he's ice-cold since losing his sister and parents."

I didn't tell him I was the damn princess. That little nugget of info was mine to stew over.

The girls' conversation oozed my way, dripping with venom.

"Why does she always get the boys' attention?" Madhu muttered, barely hiding her disgust.

"She's just a cold bitch," Geeta added, glaring at me like I'd stolen her last cookie. "She doesn't even talk to them. They're wasting their time."

I tuned them out, focusing on my apple. They'd never get it. They loved watching me suffer, loved seeing me crack, but they'd never see how utterly fucked up I was inside. And I wasn't about to let them.

Kiran, you're a badass. Don't let them see you break. My internal pep talk was the only thing keeping me from losing it.

"Maybe we should be nicer," Mohini suggested, her voice dripping with uncertainty. "She's been through a lot."

"Yeah, right," Ishana scoffed. "Like she'd even notice."

Their chatter faded as I headed back to the car, grabbing a few more things. I felt their eyes boring into me, but I didn't give a damn. I had my own mission—uncovering the truth about my past. The cemetery, the palace—answers awaited.

As I walked back to my tent, their whispers followed me. They didn't know me. They never would. I was Kiran Yagyaseni, a princess of a forgotten kingdom, lost in a sea of lies and fire. And I'd uncover the truth, no matter what.

Inside, I was cracking. Outside, I was steel. And that's how it would stay.