Leena's pulse hammered in her throat as the shadow stepped out of the bamboo.

It wasn't a bandit.
It was Ram Sharan.

His silk robes were travel‑stained, his hair unkempt from the journey, but his eyes gleamed with that same cruel certainty she'd always feared.

"Well, well…" His voice dripped venom as he stepped dangerously close.
"You really thought you could run from me, Leena?"

Her fingers clenched tighter around the damp silk in her hands.
"…Leave."

He chuckled, the sound low and menacing.
"Your fate is already sealed. You can either marry me… or die in disgrace. There is no other path for you."

"I would rather die," Leena spat, her voice trembling but clear.

His eyes darkened.
"I saw you," he hissed. "Alone. In that barn. With a man."

Her breath caught.

"If you accept me now," he said, leaning closer, his breath hot with malice, "I might be kind enough to forget what I saw. I might even forgive you."

"I will never marry you," she whispered, taking a step back.

Rage twisted his face. He lunged forward and seized her arm, his grip iron‑hard, sending pain shooting up to her shoulder.
"You stupid, stupid girl. Do you think anyone will save you here? You belong to me!"

Maya gasped, frozen in terror.

And then—

A shadow moved behind the bamboo.
A flash of brown tunic.
The Seventh Prince.

"Let her go."

His voice was calm, but the danger coiled within it made Ram Sharan freeze for a heartbeat.

Leena's eyes widened as the prince stepped into view, tall and imposing even in his plain clothes.

Ram Sharan's lip curled. "And who are you to give me orders—?"

"You heard me." His gaze was sharp as a blade.
"Keep touching her, and I'll break your arm."

The river gurgled softly in the tense silence.