KING'S QUEEN

Beneath the Masks

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Third pov

The days following the festival passed in tense silence between Meera and Arad. The coldness that had always existed between them now seemed to deepen, like an unspoken pact to avoid one another at all costs. The palace, with all its grandeur, became a cage in which they were both trapped, forced to play roles they despised.

Meera spent her days learning the intricacies of palace life, her presence met with cold stares from the courtiers and whispered gossip among the servants. It was clear that many still saw her as an outsider, a queen who didn't belong in a kingdom ruled by a man like Arad. The officials continued to undermine her at every opportunity, and the other wives' disdain hung in the air like a thick fog.

But it was the children, Ayan and Lutfanisa, who presented the greatest challenge. Ayan, at just four years old, it would take a long time for then to adjust with the new changing environment. Lutfanisa, too young to understand the complexity of the situation, was shy around Meera, her big eyes watching her silently. Meera couldn't blame .

One morning, as Meera wandered through the palace gardens, seeking a moment of peace, she heard the soft sound of footsteps behind her. She turned to see Ayan standing a few feet away, his dark eyes watching her intently.

"Would you like to walk with me?" Meera asked gently, she extended her hand and Ayan happily excepted it

Ayan always longed for mother's love and affection after his mother died . When Meera entered their live somehow she brought that hope of being a happy family again without even knowing. Love is a mysterious thing . Ayan whole heartedly accept Meera as his mother

They walked in silence for a while, the sound of birds chirping and the soft rustling of leaves filling the air. Meera was enjoying this feeling. A feeling where is someone's somebody and that helped her to cope up with her isolation. The children were like a sunlight in the darkest room
But they still have a long way to go .

As they neared the end of the garden path, Ayan stopped and looked up at Meera. "Are you going to stay here forever?" he asked, his eyes filled with an innocence that tugged at Meera's heart.

Meera knelt down to his level, unsure of how to answer such a profound question. "I don't know, Ayan," she admitted softly. "But I will be here as long as I can be. And if you ever need me, I'll be there for you."

Ayan looked at her for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether or not he believed her. Then, without another word, he turned and walked back toward the palace, leaving Meera standing alone in the garden.

The encounter with Ayan left Meera feeling more conflicted than ever. She had entered this marriage knowing it was a farce, a cruel arrangement born of Arad's desire for power and revenge. But standing in that garden with Ayan, seeing the pain in his young eyes, made her question everything. Was she really so different from Arad? She, too, had made choices for survival, for her kingdom. Yet, the cost of those choices was becoming heavier with each passing day.

Later that evening, Meera found herself in the royal library, seeking refuge among the countless books that lined the shelves. She hadn't expected Arad to be there, but as she entered the room, she saw him seated near the window, reading by the dim light of a lamp.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension between them, always present, seemed to thrum in the air. Meera's first instinct was to leave, to avoid another painful interaction, but something stopped her.

Instead, she crossed the room and sat down across from him. Arad didn't look up from his book, but Meera could feel the weight of his presence.

"Why do you spend so much time hiding in here?" she asked, her tone sharper than she had intended.

Arad finally glanced up, his expression as unreadable as ever. "And why do you spend so much time wandering the palace as if you are lost?" he retorted, his voice cold.

Meera's jaw clenched, her patience wearing thin. "I am trying to find my place here, something you have made increasingly difficult."

Arad closed his book with a soft thud and leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes studying her. "Your place?" he echoed, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "You were never meant to have a place here, Meera. You are a pawn in a game you don't even understand."

Meera felt a surge of anger rise within her. "And what about you, Arad? What do you understand? You think you are in control, but you are as trapped by your past as I am."

Arad's expression darkened, and for a moment, Meera thought he might lash out at her. But instead, he rose from his chair and walked toward her, stopping just inches away. His presence was overwhelming, and Meera's heart raced in response, though not from fear.

"You think you know me?" Arad asked, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you understand why I do what I do?"

Meera stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated. "I know that you are driven by something darker than power, something you won't admit to yourself."

Arad's eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else there too-something that made Meera's breath catch in her throat. He leaned in closer, his voice barely a whisper.

"And what do you think that is, Meera?"

Meera's heart pounded in her chest as she met his gaze, the tension between them electric. She wanted to lash out, to push him away, but instead, she found herself frozen, unable to break the connection that had suddenly formed between them.

For a moment, it was as if time had stopped, the world around them fading into the background. And then, just as quickly as it had begun, the moment was over. Arad straightened, his cold mask slipping back into place.

"Don't fool yourself into thinking you matter," he said, his voice hard once again. "You are nothing more than a tool, a means to an end."

With that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Meera standing alone, her heart racing and her mind spinning.

But as the door closed behind him, Meera couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. Beneath the hatred, beneath the bitterness and the anger, there was something else-something neither of them was ready to face.

Not yet.

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So as promised...

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Thank you readers 🎀.

And personally I want to thank disha for always being the first person to read , comment and vote for my story . This really encourages me .
Lots of love
Db