AADRIKA : The writer of the story

Chapter 12 : Birthday

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6 days to go—

Aadrika woke up to a strange clattering sound outside her chamber, her mind groggy from the remnants of sleep. She blinked against the soft light filtering through the intricately designed window screens, confusion knitting her brows as she strained to make sense of the commotion. The noise was persistent, a symphony of hurried footsteps, bustling voices, and the clinking of utensils. Something significant was happening.

Her gaze drifted to the large wooden door of her chamber as it creaked open, revealing a familiar face. Diya entered with a bright smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Rajkumari, you’re awake!" Diya exclaimed, almost breathless. "Happy birthday, Rajkumari! Today is a grand celebration for you. You must get ready quickly; the function will begin in a couple of hours."

Aadrika sat up, the realization dawning on her. It was her birthday, but not just any birthday—it was her first birthday celebration in this ancient time, in this palace she was still getting used to. The thought sent a flutter of anticipation through her, mixed with a tinge of nervousness.

Diya clapped her hands, and within moments, a small army of maids flooded the room. They busied themselves around her, bringing forth an array of royal garments, jewelry, and cosmetics. Aadrika was soon swept into a whirlwind of preparations—her long, dark hair being adorned with fragrant flowers, her skin dusted with fine powders, and her body draped in the most exquisite silk sari, embroidered with gold thread that shimmered in the sunlight.

Aadrika caught a glimpse of herself in the large mirror as the maids continued their work. She looked magnificent, every inch a royal princess. The transformation was astonishing, and for a moment, she found herself staring at the reflection with a sense of wonder. She dismissed the maids with a graceful nod, except for Diya, who excused herself to oversee the ongoing preparations.

Left alone, Aadrika couldn't help but smile at herself, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of the mirror. She tilted her head, admiring the way the intricate designs on her sari complemented the sharp features of her face. She had never experienced anything like this before—such grandeur, such opulence. It was all so new, so fascinating.

The life she remembered was starkly different—fast-paced, technology-driven, where birthdays were celebrated with cakes and parties, not with royal functions that involved the entire kingdom. The contrast amused her, and she found herself flirting with her reflection, posing slightly, experimenting with different expressions. "You look stunning, Rajkumari," she whispered to herself with a soft chuckle, her eyes twinkling with playful mischief.

But the moment of solitude soon passed, and she reminded herself of the role she now had to play. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back, adjusted her sari one last time, and left her chamber, her heart beating with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

The corridors of the palace were bustling with activity. Servants rushed about, carrying trays of sweets, decorations, and flowers, their faces alight with the festive spirit. Aadrika made her way through the familiar halls, heading toward her father’s chamber.

As she approached, the guards stationed at the entrance bowed deeply, pushing the large wooden doors open for her. Inside, her father, the Maharaja, stood by the window, his tall figure silhouetted against the morning light. He turned at the sound of her footsteps, his stern expression softening as his eyes landed on her.