Reflections of Svarnagiri

Reflections of Svarnagiri

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing14m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, May 30, 2026
Vaidehi Sharma spent her days surrounded by ancient artifacts, forgotten manuscripts, and royal relics inside a museum. History fascinated her, but only from a safe distance. She preferred stories trapped behind glass. Kingdoms that no longer existed. Mysteries that belonged to the past. Until the museum received a mirror no one could identify. An enormous obsidian mirror covered in strange carvings no historian could translate. Everyone avoided it. Vaidehi touched it. And the mirror touched back. One second she was standing in a quiet storage room. The next, she was dragged centuries into the past and into the kingdom of Svarnagiri, a world of gold-lit palaces, sacred temples, royal traditions, dangerous court politics, hidden sanctums, and secrets buried beneath ancient bloodlines. And standing at the center of it all was him. Prince Vikramaditya. Future king of Svarnagiri. Feared across kingdoms. Cold, intimidating, and impossible to ignore. A prince dressed in black and gold with dark eyes sharp enough to make people nervous and beautiful enough to make them forget why. He should have treated her like an enemy. Instead, he became obsessed with her. At first, Vaidehi can't stand him. His arrogance. His control. The way he watches her like she's something dangerous. But somewhere between palace arguments, accidental touches, jealousy, royal traditions, midnight conversations, and secrets hidden beneath the kingdom, the tension between them becomes impossible to ignore. Because Vikramaditya doesn't love softly. He loves completely. As attraction turns into something far more dangerous, Vaidehi discovers the mirrors beneath Svarnagiri are alive. They whisper her name. They react to her touch. And they seem determined to pull her and Vikramaditya together no matter how much chaos follows. But the deeper she falls into the kingdom and into him, the more terrifying the truth becomes.
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تحتُّ الركام أصواتٌ انقطع أنينها ودقاتٌ توقف نبضها فرحةً لم تكتمل وأحلامٌ أجهضت قبل المخاض تحتُ الركام قصصٌ لم تكتب لها النهاية وحكاياتٌ رحل من كان يرويها ألعابٌ لطخت بدماء الأطفال تحتُ الركام أسماءٌ تساقطت من السجلّ المدني مثل تساقط الأوراق من الأشجار فأصبحت في سماء النسيان تحتٌ الركام وجوهٌ تغيرت ملامحها فأنكرها الزمان والمكان فشيعت أجسادهم لمقابرٍ في الجنان تحت الركام ارتجف الأطفال خوفًا فغادروا الحياة ولم يجدوا الأمان وصايا خُطت بحبرٍ من الخذلان وأمنياتٌ غادرت عالم الخيال تحت الركام حيث يشهد الظلم والقهر

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