Innocent?

“Who are you?” the young girl asked.

“Shivali. My name… I’m queen,” I answered.

Shock and surprise marred their faces. I couldn’t understand why.

Do they know me?

Do they know where I belong?

My real identity — what the hell do they know about me?

Their expressions made my heartbeat quicken. What were they thinking? They were just humans — mere mortals trapped in their own selfish little world. Why should I fear them? I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t!

If they dared attack me, I’d show them why I was chosen as queen.

But before I could say anything, laughter broke through the tension — light at first, then louder, echoing through the golden hall.

I froze, staring at them like a fool as their laughter filled the air.

Then, all of a sudden, a few young girls and women stepped forward, their faces warm and smiling. They took my hands gently — their touch soft, almost comforting.

For the first time in forever, someone held me like that — not in control, not in judgment, but in kindness.

Confused, I let them lead me. Their steps were graceful, their laughter like music. I didn’t know where they were taking me.

I turned back, searching for him.

Gone.

He had vanished again — like he always did.

“What’s with this man?” I muttered under my breath, frustration curling in my chest. “Whenever I need him… he disappears.”

I walked ahead with the girls through the grand golden hall. The walls and pillars were carved with intricate designs — stories I didn’t yet know.

After a few turns, we stopped in front of an enormous door. They pushed it open, and I stepped inside.

It was a room — or maybe more than that.

Suddenly, they all turned to leave.

“This is yours now, and forever,” one said softly. “We’ll be back soon. Till then, take a walk around — explore what you’ve been gifted.”

Before I could ask anything, they were gone.

Silence.

No laughter, no voices — just still air. The guards outside stood motionless, like carved statues.

I looked around, confused.

Gift? What did they mean?

What were they up to?

Where even was I?

And most importantly — where did that king go?

The mere thought of him ignited something fierce inside me. That infuriating human. Where had he left me? And how was I supposed to get out of this place?

Questions piled up one after another, until I felt I might lose my mind.

As I wrestled with my thoughts, my eyes caught a glimpse outside the window.

No… not again.

The stars and the moon were fading. The same light — those searing, merciless rays — were returning.

Panic flooded me. I had to hide before the sun rose, before anyone saw the truth of what I was.

I couldn’t let them find my weakness. Humans prey on weakness — and they destroy what they don’t understand.

I rushed toward the door — but before I could step out, I collided with something solid.

Someone

It was him.

The king. The same one who had brought me here — and then vanished.

My anger blazed. I pushed him hard, my voice trembling with rage.

“Where the hell did you go? Why do you always do that? Whenever I need you, you disappear — like you were never there! What do you want from me?”

I screamed until my throat burned. My eyes stung with tears I refused to shed. I glared at him, chest heaving, breathing uneven.

He stood still. Silent. Then — slow, deliberate steps toward me.

If he dared fight, I was ready. I wouldn’t let a mere human overpower me. My energy began to rise — the spell forming within me — when his hands reached out.

He held my shoulders. Gently. His touch was… different. Soft, grounding, protective.

His hands slid slowly from my shoulders down to my wrists, then enclosed both my palms in his.

“Are you okay?” he whispered. “Did I hurt you in any way?”

His voice was low, filled with genuine concern. “I’m sorry… for my actions, for my words, for anything that might have hurt you.”

He was apologizing.

Apologizing — just like that?

No pride. No hesitation.

Was it really that easy for humans?

How could one be so calm, so gentle, so… confusing?

I stared at him for what felt like eternity, searching for deception and finding none. Then I looked away, snatched my hands free, and turned my back to him.

“I won’t forgive you,” I said quietly — but firmly.

He stepped closer again, placed his hand lightly on my shoulder, and whispered near my ear,

“Take your time.”

My brows furrowed — then lifted in disbelief. Did he just… joke? Now?

Before I could spit my fury back at him, he walked further inside, leaving me fuming — and following him, only with the intent to kill him.

His steps were fast — and so were mine.

He went straight to the windows and pulled the curtains shut, then moved to the open balcony and drew those too.

The room fell into darkness, lit only by a few dim lamps that glowed like distant fireflies.

I looked up, only to find his eyes already on me.

My breath caught for a moment as our gazes locked.

“What are you doing?” I asked quietly.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he replied, his tone sharp yet calm — that infuriating way he always answered.

Can’t he ever just respond like a normal human?

Hell with this man!

I closed my eyes in frustration, my soul whispering, I just want to go home.

I heard his footsteps — slow, steady. Maybe he was leaving.

Good. Let him go.

When the sound faded, I opened my eyes and sighed in relief — only to see him sitting comfortably on the couch.

What? Was this his room now?

His calm, composed behavior boiled my blood.

I stormed toward him. Too brave of him to stay seated like that.

Too calm for a man who dared to defy a queen.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

“And don’t you dare give me any excuses. Just get out!” I spat, my words quick and sharp.

“Why should I get out?” he asked, tilting his head slightly — the hint of a smirk on his lips.

Of course. He wouldn’t leave without questioning me back.

“Because this is my room!” I snapped. “And you are not allowed here. You should remember — no one is permitted inside the Queen’s chamber.”

I said it in a low, deliberate tone — soft, but laced with steel.

He leaned back, smirk deepening, and raised one eyebrow.

“And who said this is your room?” he asked — more mockery than question.

“I said it,” I replied coldly. “A queen needs no one’s assurance. My words are law. Each one of you is bound to follow — with or without your will.”

I stared straight into his eyes, every syllable sharp, every word a strike of command.

Not interested in entertaining him any further, I said flatly,

“Get out of this room.”

He got up and walked away from the couch.

He’s leaving. What a relief!

My eyes followed his steps—until he stopped and lay straight on the bed.

WHAT???

Is he even in his right state of mind?

“I said, get out!” I shouted.

He didn’t move. Not even an inch.

What an unbearable man!

I glared at him—silently, coldly, with a spark of anger burning in my chest.

Just then, the room filled again with those soft, playful laughs and whispers of the young girls. They were back.

As they entered, he sat up straight on the bed. Seeing him, the girls immediately stood to one side and bowed deeply.

He responded with a brief bow, then stood tall—hands behind his back, posture straight and commanding.

In a firm, almost regal tone, he spoke:

“Do not open the curtains. Close the chamber gates when you leave.

And before entering, you must knock.

No one is allowed to disturb the Queen’s personal space.

If anyone dares to disobey, be prepared to face the consequences.

No male shall enter the Queen’s chamber—not even a royal one.

Inform the door guards.”

His words rolled through the room like thunder—steady, absolute.

I stood there, stunned by his authority.

He was truly a king.

I couldn’t understand him. The more time passed, the more mysterious he became to me.

Without sparing a glance at anyone— not even at me—he turned and left the room.

I looked at the girls — they were holding a few things in their hands, and they looked right back at me.

Then one of them stepped forward, gently took my hand, and once again led me along.

What is with them and this constant hand-holding?

I couldn’t comprehend this gesture of theirs.

They didn’t take me out of the room this time, but instead toward a corner draped with a large curtain. Behind it stood another gate — not as enormous as before, but beautifully carved and refined.

They pushed it open, and we walked inside.

The space opened into a vast chamber, dimly lit, filled with a sweet, intoxicating aroma. As we ascended a few small stairs, a large pool came into view — steam gently rising from its surface, curling into the air.

One of the girls turned to me and asked softly, “Can we?”

“What?” I uttered, confused.

“Can we proceed further?” she repeated.

I had no clue what she meant, but looking at their calm, expectant faces, I nodded hesitantly.

They moved closer and began taking off my attire.

I was completely off guard.

What are they doing?

I froze, questions racing through my head.

Then another voice, soft yet firm, said, “Please step into the pool.”

I stood there, flabbergasted.

Why does this scene feel so familiar?

It was the same way I was stripped and thrown out of my home.

My breath hitched. Why are they doing this? What are they planning?

The questions engulfed my mind until I stood blank — suspended between fear, confusion, and disbelief.