Author's POV :
Aatish Rajvansh had always been drawn to Praneeksha's spirit. It was a few years ago, during one of his rare visits to Bengaluru, that he had first laid eyes on her. She had been laughing with her friends, her smile as radiant as the sun that kissed her brown skin. Since that moment, he had followed her from afar, keeping tabs on her academic achievements and community work. Her dedication and passion were the kindling to the flame of his admiration.
Now, as the news of her arrival reached his ears, he couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. He knew he had to find a way to meet her, to show her that his feelings were genuine, and not the whims of a spoiled royal playing games. He had never approached her directly, content to watch her from the shadows, but the time had come to step into the light.
In the quiet solitude of his private study, Aatish pulled out a framed photograph of Praneeksha from his desk drawer. It was a candid shot he had taken during her college's cultural festival, where she had performed a mesmerizing traditional dance. He had captured her mid-spin, her eyes closed, lost in the rhythm of the music. "Welcome, princess," he murmured to the photo, his voice a soft whisper. It was a term of endearment that had stuck in his mind, a reminder of her regal poise and grace.
The walls of the study were adorned with portraits of his ancestors, their stern gazes seeming to scrutinize him as he made his plans. He knew that his interest in Praneeksha was unconventional, even scandalous by his family's standards, but he couldn't help it. She represented a world outside the gilded cage of his heritage, a world where he could be just a man and not a prince.
For months, Aatish had worked tirelessly behind the scenes, using his influence to ensure that Praneeksha's college received the necessary support and recognition for her talent. He had hoped that this national competition would serve as the perfect opportunity to bring her to Jaipur, to show her the beauty of his city and, perhaps, win her heart.
Now, with her mere miles away, his thoughts raced. He had to act fast. His plan was meticulous, but it required the perfect balance of subtlety and charm. He knew that Praneeksha was not one to be easily swayed by titles or wealth, so he would have to approach her as an equal, a fellow student eager to learn and share experiences.
The competition was to be held at the grand Rajwada Palace, a symbol of his family's storied past. Aatish's influence had secured the venue, and he was to be one of the chief guests. It was an opportunity too perfect to pass up. He would attend the opening ceremony, mingle with the participants, and find a way to introduce himself without revealing his true identity.
The day of the competition dawned bright and clear, the pink and gold of the early morning light reflecting off the gleaming white marble of the palace. The air was alive with excitement as students from all over the country streamed through the arched gates, their eyes wide with wonder at the grandeur surrounding them.
Praneeksha was a flurry of nerves and excitement as she stepped into the grand hall, her heart racing with each echo of her footsteps on the polished floor. She had prepared tirelessly for this moment, but nothing could have prepared her for the sheer scale of the event. As she took her seat, she couldn't help but feel a little out of place amidst the sophisticated students from the city's top institutions.
It didn't take long for the whispers to start. Some of the students from the local colleges, unaccustomed to the diversity that Praneeksha's presence brought, began to murmur among themselves, casting sly glances her way. They spoke in rapid Hindi, assuming she wouldn't understand their snide comments about her South Indian accent and traditional attire. But she did, and it stung.
The first few days were a trial by fire. Some students would bump into her 'accidentally' in the hallways, while others would make a show of not understanding her when she spoke in English.
