Echoes Of Destiny | Multicouple ✓

56. ECHOES OF DESTINY

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In a land unknown, where time stood still in the echoes of valor, lay a palace.

Majestic. Magical. Magnificent.

It was a place where family bonds transcended blood and birth, a connection that defied time and circumstance. But this family was cursed.

Nayantara sat in her mother's chair, her fingers tracing the delicate carvings as memories swirled around her. Memories were all she had left. Happiness never lingered long in their family-it never did. At first, she prayed that her ill fate wasn't contagious, but God, it was. So she lived in the grief, letting it pull her close, finding a strange comfort in the very thing that broke her.

"Nayantara," her father's voice called out, breaking through her reverie. She turned towards the sound, closing her book with a soft sigh. The servant entered swiftly, taking the book from her hands before retreating back into the shadows.

Gracefully, she stood, her eyes meeting her father's. He was a stoic man, a figure that commanded fear and reverence from the world. They bowed to him, trembled before him. But to his daughter, he was the man who had once held her tiny hands, teaching her to walk. He was the man whose hand she had clutched, standing by his side when no one else did.

She took in his appearance, her heart sinking as she understood why he had come. He was leaving. This was his farewell, for now.

Her eyes welled up, years of longing reflecting in their depths. "Papa," she called, her voice betraying the vulnerability she tried to hide. The old man's heart ached at the sight of his daughter's tears. She was a woman in her 30s, but to him, she would always be his little girl, his princess.

"You don't deserve this, Nayra," he spoke, his voice low, laced with a rare display of emotion. "Why didn't you leave me when everyone else did?" he asked, though he knew the answer. She had told him a thousand times before, but he needed to hear it again, just once more, to reaffirm his convictions.

"I stood by my father, not the king," she replied, her posture as commanding and authoritative as his. Yet, the vulnerability in her eyes told a million different truths.

"I'm bringing them home, Princess," he promised, his voice softening. It was the least he could do for her. His daughter was a woman who knew only how to give, but what happens when there is no one to take? The emotions piled up, suffocating her, and he couldn't bear to see it.

"Promise," she whispered, her voice trembling as if the very word might break if spoken too loudly. She feared this palace would only hold memories, not create them, anymore.

"Promise," he repeated, his voice firm.

This wasn't a promise from a king to his princess-it was a promise from a father to his daughter.

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Avya

"We are Rajvansh, by birth and blood."

Hridhaan's words echoed long after he had spoken. He had left to talk to Manya's relatives or parents-they had just arrived. He was explaining everything to them, and they were crying.

I looked away, unable to face them. They never knew who I really was, or the real reason behind her accident. All they were told was that it was a car accident. Money and power had pulled enough strings to change the entire story.