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Third person pov:)

Tension filled the place as Vedanti, standing before the kingdom's people, was abruptly pulled back by her father, Vishwanath. His hand wrapped tightly around her wrist, and his voice cut through her like a blade.

"Everyone, enjoy the celebration," Vishwanath said, his tone commanding, pulling Vedanti along toward his chamber. Abhirath and Roopmati followed close behind, carrying the babies, their expressions heavy with concern. As they entered the chamber, Vishwanath motioned for the door to be shut, sealing them off from the world outside.

But before the door could fully close, Dev, Trupti, Devansh, and Radika slipped inside. There was a palpable tension in the air, the kind that crackled with unspoken accusations and hidden grief.

Vishwanath turned to Vedanti, his face a mask of stern authority. "Just because you are a mother of two does not make you any less of a child in front of me, Princess." His words were sharp, almost scolding.

"Baba..." Vedanti began, trying to explain, but Vishwanath cut her off.

"If you leave this kingdom," he declared, his voice hard, "then I will remove Abhirath from the throne. He will no longer be king, but a commoner in this kingdom."

The words struck Vedanti like a blow to the chest. Her heart stopped for a moment as her gaze darted to Abhirath. He stood silent, the weight of the threat hanging between them. Tears welled in her eyes as she realized the depth of her father's intentions.

Then, another voice joined in agreement—Devansh. "You are absolutely right, Vishwanath," he said with a chilling certainty.

"Baba? Baba?" Vedanti's voice rose in disbelief, glancing between her father and father. "Are you both out of your minds? This is his kingdom! Why would you take that away from him?" She struggled to control the anger boiling inside her, her fists clenched at her sides.

Vishwanath's calm yet cutting voice responded, "Oh really, my dear daughter? Did you forget it's all yours? You are my child, not Abhirath. My ancestors built this strong kingdom for our generations, not for outsiders."

Vedanti’s breath hitched. "Outsider?" Her voice trembled. "Baba, how can you call him an outsider? He’s the boy you raised all your life. He may not be your blood, but he has your mind—your strength." Her last words were barely above a whisper, as if saying them aloud might shatter her completely. "I’m already leaving, Baba. Please, support him. He needs you the most right now. Please, Baba... both of you."

But her pleas fell on deaf ears. Both Vishwanath and Devansh remained unmoved, their faces hardened with resolve. "Let her think," Vishwanath said coldly, gesturing for everyone to leave.

Before anyone could react, both Roopmati and Radika stepped forward. In a shocking moment, they slapped their husbands in unison, their faces burning with fury. "First, you snatched our son from us," Roopmati spat, her voice trembling with rage, "and now this?" Radika followed, her voice filled with bitter disappointment. "Today, our son did not fail. Your blood and your upbringing did," she seethed, directing her words at the men standing silent and unyielding.

Without waiting for a response, Roopmati and Radika stormed out of the room with baby's prince's, their anger palpable, leaving their husbands reeling in shock. The door closed behind them, and soon, the others followed suit, leaving only Vedanti and Abhirath alone in the room.

"Abhirath," she whispered, her voice trembling, barely audible. "Stay."

As soon as the door closed, a tense silence filled the room. Vedanti could barely breathe, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to process everything that had just happened. Her father’s words echoed in her mind—Abhirath will no longer be king... just a commoner.

The very thought made her stomach twist painfully. How could her father and baba, think of doing something so cruel to Abhirath? Her husband might have made mistakes, but he didn’t deserve this. And the coldness with which they had dismissed her pleas—it was like a dagger to her soul.

He looked up slowly, his gaze meeting hers. His face was etched with pain, his body tense, as if he were trying to keep himself from breaking apart right in front of her. The weight of her father’s words, There was a storm of emotion swirling in them—anger, hurt, betrayal. But most of all, there was a deep, overwhelming sorrow. A sorrow that cut through Vedanti like a knife..

“I don’t want this,” Vedanti continued, her voice cracking as she stepped toward him. “I never wanted to hurt you like this. I never wanted them to take everything from you because of me.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “I should have seen it coming.”

Abhirath swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as he took a step closer to her, the air between them charged with an unspoken tension. His heart was heavy, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away from her. Despite everything, despite the rift between them, she was still thinking about him.

Vedanti shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “No... no, you don’t deserve this. You’ve always been their son, their king. They can’t just strip that away from you. I’ll... I’ll talk to them again. I’ll—”

“I’m not worried about the throne, Vedanti,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I’m worried about losing you. I don’t care about the crown, the power, any of it. What matters to me is you. Our family.”

Vedanti’s breath hitched, tears filling her eyes as she shook her head. “But they—Baba—they don’t understand. They think they’re protecting me, but they’re tearing you apart.”

Abhirath stepped closer, until there was barely any space left between them. His fingers brushed against her cheek, wiping away the tear that had escaped. "You don’t have to leave, Vedanti. Not like this."

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m trapped between you and them. They’ve raised me to be strong, to protect what’s ours, but how can I protect anything when I feel like I’m losing everything?”

Abhirath's hand rested gently on her waist, the touch soft yet grounding. He could feel her trembling, and it broke him to see her like this. “You’re not losing me,” he murmured, his voice low, filled with determination. “No matter what happens, I’m here. I’m with you.”

The room felt smaller, the walls closing in, as the weight of their unspoken fears and desires pressed against them. Vedanti looked up at him, her eyes searching his, trying to find the man she had fallen in love with amidst all the chaos.

“Abhirath…” Her voice was barely a whisper, but in that moment, it carried all the weight of the years they had spent together—all the love, the hurt, the longing.

He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. “Please, don’t leave me,” he whispered, his voice raw. “Not now, never.”

For a moment, everything else fell away—the throne, the kingdom, her father’s words. All that mattered was the two of them, standing together, holding onto the fragile connection that still remained between them.

Dev burst into the chamber, his face flushed with urgency. "Di, the chiryat is ready for the departure," he announced, barely pausing as he stood at the door.

Vedanti looked at Abhirath for a brief, heart-wrenching moment, her eyes filled with unspoken emotions. Without a word, she followed Dev out, leaving Abhirath standing there, feeling as though the very air had been pulled from his lungs.

As the chamber door shut behind her, Abhirath slumped down, the weight of his emotions crashing over him. His chest felt tight, suffocated by the reality that Vedanti, the love of his life, was slipping through his fingers.

Unable to bear the heaviness in his heart, Abhirath got up with determination. His face was hardened, the softness and vulnerability from earlier now replaced by a grim resolve. He made his way to the soldiers' quarters, where his trusted men were preparing. There was no room for emotions now—there was a mission at hand.

He changed into his war attire, his movements mechanical, his mind racing. He hadn't told anyone about this secret attack. Only a handful of his most loyal soldiers knew. It was a risk—a dangerous one. The Malal Kingdom was well-prepared and fully aware of the impending attack. But strategically, it was crucial. They needed the Malal Kingdom's techniques to defend against future foreign threats. Politically, it was vital to the kingdom's survival.

Abhirath pulled on his armor, feeling its weight settle on his shoulders. He knew the odds were stacked against them, but he was willing to take the chance. He had to—if not for himself, then for the kingdom. The pain in his chest, however, wasn’t just the looming danger. It was the thought of Vedanti—of what they once had and what was now lost.

Before leaving, he allowed himself one last glance. His eyes lingered on the palace, specifically at the window to Vedanti's chamber. He could almost picture her there, standing at the window, watching him as he rode off into the distance, their lives diverging on separate paths. The ache in his heart intensified, but he pushed it down, knowing he had to stay focused.

With a final breath, he mounted his horse, his soldiers following his lead. The weight of the mission, the risk, and the emotional turmoil rested heavily on his shoulders as they rode off. The silence was thick, each beat of the horse's hooves echoing like a countdown. There was no turning back now.

Vedanti entered her chamber, her mind spinning with the chaos of her life. Every step she took felt heavy as if the weight of everything happening around her was pressing her deeper into the ground. She glanced at the baby strollers, her heart aching. In between the strollers, a beautifully carved wooden sword lay resting. She bent down to pick it up, noticing the words etched into the handle—From you, Baba.

Next to it was a letter. Vedanti’s heart fluttered as she unfolded it and read the familiar handwriting.

"Hello, my rabbit. Please walk towards the cupboard made by me."

Her curiosity piqued, Vedanti slowly approached the wardrobe Abhirath had crafted for her. As she opened it, her breath caught. A small card lay there, simply written with instructions: "Open the tunnel."

Her fingers trembled as she pulled the hidden lever behind the hanging clothes. To her surprise, the back of the cupboard shifted, revealing a hidden passageway. Her heart raced, uncertainty flooding her thoughts. She hesitated only for a second before stepping inside.

The tunnel was narrow but well-lit, clearly built with care. As she walked through, the air was thick with emotions—memories of Abhirath, their laughter, their love, now lost in the turmoil of their current situation.

Finally, she reached a door at the end of the tunnel. With a push, the door creaked open, and she stepped inside. Her breath hitched as her eyes scanned the room.

She was in Abhirath’s chamber.

Her jaw dropped, disbelief washing over her. He had built a secret tunnel connecting their chambers, something she had never known about. A mix of emotions rushed through her—shock, confusion, anger, and a deep, unspoken tenderness.

Her gaze fell upon the room itself, and her chest tightened. The chamber was filled with everything she loved. The walls were adorned with her favorite flowers, soft, delicate fragrances swirling in the air. On a table sat a collection of books she had once mentioned in passing, ones she had wished she could read again. And there, in the corner, was a chair she had once admired during one of their long walks in the garden—a chair she had dreamed of having.

Tears welled up in her eyes as the realization sank in. Abhirath had gone through all this effort for her. He had created this space, filled with the things that made her happy, things that made her feel at home.

Her mind raced. How long had he been planning this? How many nights had he spent putting this together while she was unaware, consumed by their growing distance? The gestures spoke of a love she once believed had been lost, buried under layers of duty, and the hurt they both carried.

But even now, standing in the middle of this room, surrounded by the tangible proof of his care, she didn’t know what to feel. The pain in her heart hadn’t disappeared, and the distance between them still loomed large. Yet, seeing this side of Abhirath—the man who remembered every little thing about her, the man who had built a bridge between their chambers when everything else was falling apart—shook her.

She touched the fabric of the curtains, the softness reminding her of gentler days, days when Abhirath’s laughter had been her solace. But those days felt so far away now.

A single tear slipped down her cheek as she stood there, caught between the past and the present, between love and pain.

As Vedanti stood in Abhirath's chamber, her eyes fell on a beautiful painting of herself, sitting gracefully on a throne. The attention to detail, the way he had captured her essence, left her breathless. Her fingers lightly grazed the canvas, feeling the emotion that radiated from the image. She couldn’t deny it—Abhirath had always seen her in a way no one else had. Next to the painting was another letter, carefully folded. Her heart raced as she opened it, recognizing his familiar handwriting.

"My rabbit," it began. "Thank you is a very basic word to describe how grateful I am to have you in my life. But it’s the closest I can come to expressing what you mean to me right now. I know I have not been the man you deserved. I have failed you, hurt you in ways I can never undo. Yet, here you are, still etched into my heart, still the only light that has ever truly guided me."

Her eyes blurred with tears, her breath catching as she read his words.

"I am going to war," he confessed, and Vedanti’s heart sank. "I know I should have discussed this with you, but my love, I couldn’t bear to see the pain in your eyes. I have already caused you so much, more than I can ever forgive myself for. But I couldn’t see you leave either, and so I chose to leave instead."

The weight of his decision hit her like a tidal wave. Abhirath was going to war, a dangerous battle that could take him from her forever. And he hadn’t told her because he couldn’t bear to see her broken heart again.

"If I come back alive," he continued, "I promise you, my rabbit, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make things right between us. I will fight for you in ways I never did before. Not just with my sword, but with my heart. I know I cannot stop you from leaving me if that is what you wish. I have no right to ask you to stay. But I will never stop loving you. Even if you go, I will carry you with me to the end of time. I will live with the regret of losing you, but I will die knowing that you were my world, and I failed to protect it."

Her chest tightened, his raw emotions bleeding through the ink on the page. She could picture him writing these words, his hands shaking, his heart heavy with the pain he had caused her.

"Abhi na jaao chhod kar, dil abhi bhara nahi," he wrote, a line from the song he used to hum to her when they first fell in love. Those words carried the weight of everything he couldn’t say. His heart, his regret, his desperate love.

"I’m sorry, my rabbit, for the silence that has hurt you more than words ever could. But know this—every breath I take, every beat of my heart, it’s yours. It has always been yours."

As she finished reading, her hands trembled, and she sank to her knees in front of the painting. Abhirath’s love, his passion, his sorrow—it was all there, laid bare before her. He wasn’t just a king or a warrior. He was a man who loved her fiercely, painfully, with every fiber of his being.

She could feel his regret, the depth of his remorse, and the unspoken promise woven between his words. He loved her still, despite the distance between them, despite the mistakes, despite everything that had come between them. And he was willing to go to war for her, not just with swords and armies, but with the tenderness and vulnerability he had once hidden from the world.

Abhirath wasn’t just asking for forgiveness. He was begging for one last chance to be the man she deserved. And in this letter, in these words, he had laid his heart at her feet.

FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK I don't how I wrote this but this chapter is the masterpiece for sure If you are with me from starting you would know what I am talking about I can say finally I am proud  of my self, until I get 90K views and at least 1k comment is completely I will not upload next chapter. 82k views are there currently and 977 comments total is completed.