The village came into view as the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, casting long shadows across the dirt paths and small, humble homes. The place looked quiet, peaceful—an odd contrast to the chaos and danger they had just escaped. Meerab walked alongside Murtasim, her body aching from exhaustion and her gown reduced to tatters, barely held together by frayed threads.
As they approached the village, Murtasim stopped in front of an old shop, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He turned to her, his gaze sweeping over her torn clothing with an appreciative smirk. “Not that I mind the view, sweetheart,” he drawled, his voice low, “but if you walk into a village looking like that, it’s going to cause a stir. And while I’d love to see what’s beneath those rags—” his eyes sparkled with mischievous intent “—I’m not sure the other men here have the same self-control as I do.”
Meerab shot him a glare, her cheeks burning with indignation. “You’re disgusting,” she hissed, clutching the remains of her gown tighter around her body.
He chuckled, unbothered by her anger. “Relax, princess. I’m just trying to keep you safe.” His smile faded slightly, and his eyes darkened with a seriousness she hadn’t seen before. “The world’s full of men who won’t hesitate to take what they want if they think no one’s watching. And as much as you hate me, I’m your best option right now.”
She wanted to snap back, to remind him that she didn’t need his protection, but the truth was, she did. Her royal upbringing hadn’t prepared her for a world where men viewed her as nothing more than a prize to be claimed. She swallowed her pride and nodded stiffly. “Fine.”
Murtasim disappeared into the shop, returning moments later with a simple dress and a shawl. He tossed them at her casually. “Put these on. I’ll keep watch.”
Meerab took the clothes, retreating behind a nearby tree to change. The new dress was plain but clean, and it covered her far better than the remnants of her royal gown. When she stepped back out, she found Murtasim leaning against a tree, arms crossed, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
“Much better,” he said with an approving nod. “Now, let’s get moving before anyone gets any ideas.”
As they made their way through the narrow village streets, Meerab’s nerves were on edge. The villagers seemed curious but wary, casting glances at the pair as they passed. She tried to keep her head down, pulling the shawl tighter around her face, hoping no one would recognize her.
But Murtasim’s expression had grown more serious as they reached the village square. He stopped suddenly, his eyes narrowing at a group of men near the edge of the village. They were the same soldiers from earlier, the ones she had been fleeing from. They were speaking to one of the villagers, showing him something—likely a description of her.
His gaze flickered back to Meerab, a shadow of suspicion creeping into his features. “Those men,” he said quietly, “the ones looking for you—they’re here.”
Meerab stiffened, her breath catching in her throat. “What?” she whispered, her heart pounding in her chest.
He didn’t look at her, his eyes still fixed on the men in the distance. “Bandits and dacoits don’t usually spend this much time searching for one person,” he said, his voice low. “They take what they want and move on. But these men? They’re persistent. Too persistent.”
Meerab’s stomach churned. He was beginning to suspect something, she could feel it. But for now, he didn’t press her for answers, only giving her a long, hard look before continuing. “We need to take refuge here, at least for the night. But there’s a problem.”
“What problem?” she asked, though she was already dreading the answer.
Murtasim smirked, his mischievous demeanor returning. “This village… they’re a bit traditional. A man and a woman, traveling together at night? Unmarried? It’ll cause a scandal.” He paused, letting the gravity of the situation sink in before he added, “So, we’ll have to tell them we’re married.”
Meerab’s eyes widened, her shock instant and palpable. “What?!”
He held up a hand, cutting off her protest. “It’s the only way. They won’t give us shelter otherwise, and we can’t afford to stay out in the open with those men searching for you. It’s either this or risk getting caught. Your choice.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but the words died in her throat. He was right. They had no other option. Even if the idea of pretending to be his wife made her skin crawl, she couldn’t afford to let her pride get in the way of her survival. She swallowed her protests, her hands balling into fists at her sides.
“Fine,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “But don’t think for a second that I’m going to play along with any of your… suggestions.”
Murtasim’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”
They approached one of the larger homes in the village, where an elderly woman stood by the door, eyeing them curiously. Murtasim put on his most charming smile, pulling Meerab close to him, his arm draped loosely around her shoulders. She stiffened at the contact, but held her tongue, praying he wouldn’t overdo it.
“Good evening,” he said warmly. “My wife and I are travelers, seeking shelter for the night. We’ve been on the road for days, and we’re just looking for a place to rest.”
The woman looked between them, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Husband and wife, eh?”
Murtasim’s smile never wavered, though Meerab could feel his grip tighten slightly on her shoulder. “That’s right. We’ve been through a lot lately, and she’s exhausted. We won’t cause any trouble, I promise.”
The woman studied them for a moment longer before sighing. “Alright, you can stay. But keep to yourselves, understood? We don’t need any scandal here.”
“Of course,” Murtasim replied smoothly, giving her a grateful nod.
As they entered the small house, Meerab’s heart was still racing, her mind spinning. She had just become a fugitive princess disguised as a peasant woman and now, apparently, the wife of a rogue soldier. This was not how she had envisioned her escape.
Murtasim, however, seemed to be enjoying himself far too much.
“See?” he whispered as they settled into the small room they had been given. “You’re a natural at this.”
Meerab shot him a glare. “Don’t get used to it.”
He laughed softly, stretching out on the floor while she curled up on the makeshift bed. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m already used to it.”
And despite her exhaustion, she found herself lying awake, wondering just how long she could keep up this dangerous game.
