By the time the sun began to dip toward the horizon, its light spilling molten gold across the palace walls, my duties had doubled. The evening was not just a celebration—it was a battlefield disguised in silks and music. Prince Rudra’s presence had stirred more movement than I liked. Too many eyes, too many whispers, too many possible dangers.

So I did what I always did—I buried myself in arrangements. Checking the posts of the guards, walking the perimeters, ensuring each entry point was secured. I repeated instructions twice, sometimes thrice, knowing a single lapse could mean disaster. The clang of swords being tested, the murmurs of soldiers sharpening their focus—all of it rang in my ears like a constant reminder of the weight I carried.