Chapter 1: Where Even Shadows Are Ignored

In the palace where even my shadow is ignored, I still kept Arjun by my side.

Despite my status as an unfavoured little consort, I had a handsome young attendant who never left my side.

In the hushed corners of the sprawling mahal, my payal made no sound, as if even the old marble floors had tired of my presence. Yet, always with me—silent as a shadow, yet impossible to overlook—was Arjun. He was like a silver diya flame flickering in a draughty corridor—steadfast, gentle, quietly lighting my darkness, no matter how the winds of palace politics tried to snuff him out.

I always thought Arjun was cold and pure—until, sometimes, it felt as if unseen voices whispered in my ear, spinning stories about us I could not escape:

[The supporting girl is truly beautiful, but so foolish. She kept the male lead for a year and still hasn’t realised he’s not really a eunuch.]

[Don’t be fooled by the male lead’s current act of platonic love with the supporting girl; later, he’ll play all sorts of tricks with the main heroine.]

[The male lead hid a box full of the heroine’s portraits right under the supporting girl’s bed.]

[Now that’s a life.]

Those words clung to me like the scent of wet earth after rain, impossible to shake. In the palace, gossip is a monsoon—once it starts, you cannot keep it out, no matter how tightly you bolt the windows. I found myself half-doubting, half-believing the floating accusations.

Twisting the end of my dupatta between my fingers, I opened Arjun’s precious box. Inside, aside from golden punishment trinkets, there was a booklet printed with the Maharani’s likeness…

My hands shook as I lifted the delicate cover, sandalwood and a trace of attar mingling on the pages. Each gilded page felt like an unspoken betrayal—her face, regal and serene, watched me from within like a temple painting. Even the trinkets, glinting with intricate work, seemed to mock me for my blindness. A cold shiver ran down my back, prickling my skin in the humid night.

That night, I pushed away the man with a face as flawless as a marble idol.

“Compared to a real man, an attendant is still lacking. You needn’t come anymore.”

The words tasted bitter, like chewing neem leaves for punishment. Arjun’s eyes—wide and startled—searched my face, but I kept my chin high. Beyond the jali windows, the city’s sounds faded; only my racing heartbeat remained.