The message arrived under strict imperial seal.
Veer Pratap Singh—Yuvraj of Rajputana, crowned prince of the empire, and the man who once shattered Anaya's world—was requesting a *private audience.*
With her.
Not Aryan.
Not the Prime Minister.
Just *Anaya.*
The invitation was laced with urgency.
**"Rajkumari, I require your counsel on a matter of utmost state secrecy."**
---
Anaya arrived at the Imperial Ministry Hall dressed in muted grey silk, her expression unreadable. Aryan escorted her to the gates but didn't go inside. He didn't need to. His trust was quiet now. Constant.
The guards saluted her. She didn't flinch.
She found Veer waiting alone in the War Chamber—a room lined with ancestral swords and wartime maps, usually reserved for emergency diplomacy.
He stood when she entered.
He had aged.
Not in body—but in spirit.
Gone was the golden boy of Rajputana. In his place stood a man worn by consequence.
"Anaya," he greeted.
She didn't return it. "You asked for counsel. Speak."
He nodded, motioning for her to sit. She didn't.
"There's unrest on the western border," he said. "A minor princely state—Chandravarna—is threatening to declare autonomy. They've aligned with foreign interests. Funding. Arms. And…"
He hesitated.
Her brow arched. "And?"
"They've named a new figurehead leader. A spiritual-turned-political figure. Someone charismatic. Someone with... a connection to Meher."
The room stilled.
Anaya's voice was soft. "You mean to say your wife's past has resurfaced."
"Yes."
"And now you want *me* to contain it."
Veer looked up, and for the first time in years, there was no arrogance in his eyes.
Just *need*.
"She listens to you," he said. "Even after everything."
Anaya studied him for a long, long moment.
Then, softly: "Funny. The girl you married was raised to be a heroine. But she was never strong enough to hold your kingdom."
"And you were?"
"I still am."
He swallowed. "Please."
She tilted her head. "Do you remember how it felt to betray me?"
He said nothing.
She stepped closer.
"Do you remember how it felt when I stopped waiting for you?"
His jaw tightened.
Anaya leaned in, her voice a quiet blade. "This is your penance, Veer. You'll kneel now—not to me. But to *your consequences*."
---
She agreed to help.
Not for Veer.
Not even for Meher.
But because the empire was hers to protect now.
And if war was coming through that woman's shadow...
Anaya would be the first to face it.