Chapter 1: A Life in Shadow

I am a fake princess! But everyone in the palace knows this—my whole existence is to protect the Crown Prince, to be the decoy in place of the real princess.

In the marble corridors, where the clang of payals echoed and the faint fragrance of rose water lingered, my steps were always measured—never too bold, never too hesitant. Somewhere, a peacock called, and the old chowkidar’s stick tapped a slow rhythm against the flagstones. Among the whispers of the royal staff, I moved like a shadow, dressed in silk but never truly wearing the crown.

Everything changed the day the Crown Prince became king. I went quietly to deliver a gift, but then I heard the Maharani’s voice, sharp and decisive, speaking to the new king:

"Ritika has been here too long. Now she must vanish, and your real sister will return!"

I bit my tongue to keep from crying out. The sandalwood box dug into my palm, grounding me as the world I’d clung to slipped away. I pressed my forehead to the marble, wishing I could disappear into its cold silence. My breath caught as I clutched the small sandalwood box I had spent weeks preparing, the latch biting into my skin. My heart hammered as my elegant, dignified royal brother replied, each word clear and cold:

"Theek hai. I’ll make the arrangements."

The chill in his tone hurt more than the winter nights I’d spent shivering in the outer palace. That night, a great fire swept through the palace. While everyone was shouting and running with buckets, the air thick with smoke and panic, I slipped into the crowd of pardoned servants escaping—never realising that the new king himself, usually so composed, was searching for me in the chaos. All I could think of was survival, my heart pounding with every step, the memory of my royal brother flickering in my chest like a dying diya.