Antara was laying in a shallow pool of blood , delicate form a haunting contrast against the serene surface. The blood, dried and clear , reflected the distress etched on her features. A trickle of blood marred her forehead, stark against her pale skin, evidence of the ordeal she had endured.Prince Abhimanyu rushed to her side, his heart twisting at the sight before him. With careful hands, he lifted her against the floor, cradling her close in a gesture both protective and tender. The trace of the blood against his arms served as a stark reminder of the urgency of the moment, urging him onward with each step.
Antara's eyelids fluttered weakly as she teetered on the edge of consciousness. In her eyes, clouded with pain and confusion, Prince Abhimanyu glimpsed the depth of her suffering. Her eyes showed her sorrow, she couldn't take up all that happened to her.
With those dried lips , Her voice, barely audible and filled with longing, trembled as she pleaded, "P...please let me d....d...die, so that I....I can go b... back..."
Tears streamed down her cheeks, mingling with the remnants of the blood around her, a silent plea for release from the agony that threatened to overwhelm her. Despite the unbearable weight of her words, Prince Abhimanyu couldn't bring himself to accept her plea for escape.
"No," he vowed softly, his voice carrying both determination and compassion. "I won't let you die away like this."
Turning swiftly to the soldiers standing nearby, his gaze unwavering, he commanded, " call the palace physician at once. Tell him it's urgent." With Antara cradled securely in his arms, he moved swiftly through the corridors, his steps echoing the urgency of their mission.
Carrying her in a bridal style, Prince Abhimanyu felt the weight of her frail body against him, a testament to her vulnerability and his unwavering resolve to protect her.
With determined purpose, Prince Abhimanyu gathered Antara into his arms, cradling her gently as he carried her through the corridors. Rupinder and the soldiers followed closely behind, their footsteps echoing the urgency of the moment. Each step towards his chambers felt like a race against time, where every second counted in their quest to save Antara from the brink of darkness.
The next scene:
Prince Abhimanyu and Rupinder sat quietly in the guest room, where the palace physician was attending to Antara's injuries. Despite prince Abhimanyu was practicing swordplay, Abhimanyu found himself unable to shake off his concerns about Antara's well-being. Rupinder, who had grown up alongside Abhimanyu and knew him well, understood his friend's inclination to immerse himself in martial exercises whenever something occupies his mind as a means of clearing his mind and reaffirming his identity to himself as the future king, shielding himself from emotional turmoil and distractions.
"Abhi, you've practiced enough for now. Come, sit with me," Rupinder suggested gently, noticing Abhimanyu's restlessness. Surprisingly, Abhimanyu acquiesced, silently acknowledging Rupinder's concern with a slight nod.
"She'll be alright, Abhi," Rupinder reassured him, his voice steady and reassuring. "Who said I was thinking about her?" Abhimanyu deflected, his tone masking the worry he felt deep inside. "I was reflecting on my own judgment," he admitted quietly, his eyes fixed on the floor and face emotion less
"It's okay, Abhi.yiu don't always have to be perfect.Everyone makes mistakes," Rupinder reassured him, sensing the weight of responsibility that burdened his friend. Abhimanyu's expression remained serious, betraying his inner turmoil. My mistake caused suffering to a civilian," he lamented quietly, his voice tinged with remorse.
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Historische fictieWhat if a woman from the 21st century travels 900 years back that is the 12th century, and she has to stay there due to certain circumstances and what if her fate is connected to the prince who is cold,ruthless and emotionless...will her fate make...