When Kingdoms fall for Love

Chapter 1

The streets of Ujjain were alive with the buzz of celebration. Drums echoed through the air, a constant heartbeat that resonated through the stone streets, carrying with them the energy of the city. Golden banners swayed gently in the breeze, their vibrant colours reflecting the joy that swirled like dust on the wind.

Prince Vikramaditya had returned.

The moment his horse crossed the grand gates of Ujjain, the people erupted in cheer. Children ran through the streets, tossing flowers into the air, their laughter intertwining with the melody of flutes that floated from the palace balconies. Mothers whispered tales of his bravery to their wide-eyed daughters, and merchants paused in their dealings to watch the young prince ride by.

Vikramaditya is a legend, even now.

He had left as a boy—a second son, eager to prove himself, eager to escape the shadow of his father. And now he had returned as a man. He carried himself with the strength and confidence of a king, his broad shoulders set with the weight of leadership. His eyes, dark and contemplative, scanned the city that had once been his home but now felt foreign after so many years away.

"Prince Vikramaaditya!"

A chorus of voices followed him wherever he went, and yet he felt distant, removed from the celebrations around him. He had grown accustomed to the stillness of the forests and the quiet intensity of his training. This noise, this attention—it unsettled him.

His brother, the crown prince, rode beside him. Unlike Vikramaditya, he thrived in the limelight, waving to the crowds with the ease of a man born to rule. His armour gleamed in the sunlight, polished and perfect, a reflection of his carefully crafted image.

"Are you not going to wave to your people?" his brother teased, his smile playful but laced with meaning. "They've waited five years to see you."

Vikramaditya forced a small smile but said nothing. His thoughts were elsewhere—on a quiet riverbank far from here. On a woman with dark hair and eyes that saw into the deepest parts of him.

Avantika.

It had been two weeks since their reunion, and yet the memory of her still clung to him like a shadow he could not shake. He could still feel the softness of her hand in his, the warmth of her breath against his skin as she whispered his name. But that warmth was now distant, replaced by the cold reality of his duties.

Ujjain needed him. His family needed him. And Avantika... she needed him to be strong, to be the king his people deserved.

But at what cost?

As they reached the palace gates, the cheering grew louder, the sound reverberating off the high stone walls. The courtyard was packed with nobles, soldiers, and servants alike, all eager to welcome the prince home. The sight of it filled Vikramaditya with a strange sense of foreboding.

The palace was just as he remembered it, yet everything felt different now. The weight of the crown hovered over him like a sword waiting to fall. He had returned, but in many ways, he had never felt more lost.

The moment his feet touched the ground, the crowd surged forward, eager to greet him, to welcome him home. His mother was the first to reach him, her eyes wet with unshed tears as she embraced him tightly.

"My son," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "You've returned."

Vikramaditya held her close, his chest tightening with a mix of love and guilt. He had missed her, missed the warmth of her presence, but there was a part of him that had been changed by the years away—changed in ways he couldn't fully explain.