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chavi pov:)

Murat’s entire frame radiated lethal tension as he stepped closer to the man, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword. The air was electric, charged with the silent promise of retribution.

The man, realizing the gravity of his situation, stumbled backward. “Your Highness, this isn’t what it looks like. I—I was only following orders!”

“Orders?” Murat’s voice was deceptively calm, each word laced with venom. “Whose orders?”

The man’s eyes darted between Murat and me, his panic evident. “Prince Sulaman’s!” he blurted out, his voice cracking. “He told me to… to keep her here until further notice.”

I felt a surge of disgust and rage at the mention of Sulaman’s name, but I kept my gaze locked on the woman, who was now trembling, her tear-streaked face pale with fear.

Murat knelt before her, his movements deliberate, as if trying not to frighten her further. “What’s your name?” he asked, his tone gentler now.

“Leila,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He glanced over his shoulder at me, his expression a mixture of fury and regret. “Chavi, help her. Untie her wrists.”

For a moment, I hesitated, the storm of emotions inside me making it hard to think clearly. But then I moved forward, pulling the small dagger from my dress and cutting through the rough ropes binding her hands.

Leila flinched when the ropes fell away, her gaze darting to Murat as if she expected him to strike her. “I… I didn’t mean to cause trouble, Your Highness. Please, I only did what I was told—”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Murat interrupted, his voice firm. He stood and turned his attention back to the man. “But he has.”

Before I could process what was happening, Murat’s hand shot out, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him against the wall. The sound echoed through the chamber, and the man cried out in pain.

“Murat!” I called out, my voice sharp. “Stop!”

He froze, his grip loosening slightly, though his eyes remained locked on the man with unrelenting fury. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Murat growled. “You dared to bring shame to this palace—to me—under the orders of a snake like Sulaman?”

“I swear, Your Highness, I didn’t—”

“Enough,” Murat spat, releasing him with a shove. The man crumpled to the ground, coughing and gasping for breath.

Murat turned to me then, his gaze softening as it met mine. “Take her to safety, Chavi. She doesn’t belong here.”

I nodded, though my hands trembled as I helped Leila to her feet. The woman clung to me, her body weak and fragile, but her eyes were filled with gratitude.

As we made our way toward the stairs, I couldn’t help but glance back at Murat. His back was to me, his posture rigid as he loomed over the man on the floor.

The tension between us was far from resolved, but in that moment, I saw something in him that I hadn’t expected—a fierce protectiveness, a burning desire to set things right.

But the question remained: how much of this was the real Murat, and how much had been carefully hidden from me?

As we ascended the stairs, Sulaman’s smirk flashed in my mind, his taunting words echoing like a sinister melody.

Did I still think Murat was worthy of my love?

I didn’t know the answer.

But I did know one thing: the truth, no matter how dark or dangerous, would come to light.

And when it did, it would change everything.

As the royal entourage prepared to leave, the grand palace gates stood tall and imposing, framed by the glow of the setting sun. 

Murat stood beside his maasa, the Sultana, his face a mask of composure, but his eyes betrayed a storm raging within. My gaze lingered on him, searching for a crack in his demeanor—a sign that he was as affected by this departure as I was.

The Sultana approached me with regal grace, her presence commanding respect. “Princess Chavi,” she said, her voice smooth and unwavering, “I trust that your journey here has given you much to consider.”

I nodded, offering her a polite smile. “It has, Your Majesty. I will discuss everything with my parents and convey our decision soon.”

Her sharp eyes studied me for a moment, as if trying to gauge the thoughts swirling in my mind. Finally, she nodded. “Very well. Safe travels, Princess.”

Murat stepped forward then, his tall figure casting a long shadow in the fading light. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his jaw spoke volumes. “Chavi,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to say more, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. After a moment, he simply added, “Travel safely.”

The formality of his tone stung more than I cared to admit. Nodding curtly, I turned away, refusing to let him see the emotions simmering just beneath the surface.

As my carriage pulled away from the palace, I couldn’t resist a final glance back. Murat was still standing there, his hands clenched at his sides, his gaze locked on the departing procession.

The Sultana stood beside him, her expression unreadable as she murmured something to him. He didn’t respond, his eyes never leaving the carriage.

The journey back to my kingdom was long and quiet, the rhythmic sound of the horses’ hooves doing little to soothe my restless mind. Sulaman’s taunts, the secret chamber, the women, and Murat’s silence—all of it swirled together in a chaotic storm.

By the time we reached my kingdom, I felt no closer to clarity than I had when I left the palace. My parents greeted me warmly, their smiles a stark contrast to the turmoil within me.

That night, as I stood on the balcony of my chambers, staring out at the starlit sky, a shadow shifted in the garden below. My heart leapt, a strange mix of fear and anticipation taking hold.

Was it Murat? Had he followed me here?

Or was it something—or someone—else?

The shadow moved closer, and my breath hitched as the figure stepped into the moonlight.

The shadow in the garden moved with precision, almost like a predator stalking its prey. 

My pulse raced as I clutched the edge of the balcony railing, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Moonlight glinted off a familiar silhouette—broad shoulders, a proud stance.

“Murat?” I whispered to myself, the name escaping my lips before I could stop it.

The figure paused as if hearing me, then stepped further into the light. My breath hitched. It was him. His eyes locked onto mine, intense and unyielding, as if he could see straight into my soul from this distance.

What was he doing here? Hadn’t I left him behind at the palace gates with his maasa? My mind raced with questions, but none seemed to form coherently.

Before I could call out to him, he raised a hand, motioning for silence. Then he pressed a finger to his lips—a gesture that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Murat,” I said again, this time louder, my voice cutting through the stillness of the night. But before I could say more, he disappeared into the shadows as quickly as he had appeared.

A sense of unease settled over me. What was he hiding? Why come all this way only to vanish without a word?

Just as I was about to turn back into my chambers, a faint sound caught my attention—a soft rustling from behind me. My blood ran cold.

Slowly, I turned, my eyes scanning the dimly lit room. A figure stood in the corner, cloaked in darkness, their presence sending a jolt of fear through me.

“Who’s there?” I demanded, my voice trembling but firm.

The figure stepped forward, and my heart stopped.

It wasn’t Murat.

It was Sulaman.

He smiled that same infuriating smirk, his eyes gleaming with triumph. “Did you think he came for you, Princess?” he asked, his voice dripping with mockery. “Poor, naïve Chavi. You’re not as important to him as you think.”

“What are you doing here?” I snapped, anger overriding my fear.

He took another step closer, his gaze predatory. “I came to finish what I started. You deserve to know the truth about your beloved Murat. The truth that will shatter every illusion you’ve ever had.”

I backed away, my hand instinctively reaching for the dagger hidden in my dress. “Stay away from me,” I warned, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.

Sulaman laughed, low and menacing. “Oh, Princess,” he said, “you have no idea what you’re in for.”

At that moment, the balcony doors flew open with a deafening crash, and a new figure stormed into the room, the air around them crackling with tension.

Sulaman’s smirk faded as he turned to face the intruder. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to make sense of what was unfolding. Standing in the doorway, bathed in the dim moonlight, was Murat. 

His expression was a storm of fury and something darker, something that made the air around him feel heavy and electric.

“Murat,” I breathed, relief and dread mixing in my voice.

His eyes flicked to me for a split second, softening ever so slightly before hardening again as they settled on Sulaman. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. It wasn’t a question—it was a warning.

Sulaman chuckled, the sound grating and smug. “I was merely enlightening the princess about the man she’s considering marrying,” he said, spreading his arms as if he were doing me a favor. “She deserves to know who you really are.”

Murat took a step forward, his movements controlled but lethal. “Leave. Now.”

But Sulaman didn’t flinch. If anything, his grin widened. “What’s the rush, my prince? Afraid she’ll see something she doesn’t like? Afraid she’ll realize she’s making a mistake?”

I stepped back, my dagger still clutched tightly in my hand. The tension between the two men was suffocating, the kind of tension that promised destruction.

“Murat,” I said, my voice cutting through the charged silence. Both men turned to look at me, and I felt the weight of their gazes. “What is he talking about? Is there more you haven’t told me?”

Murat’s jaw tightened, his eyes locking with mine. “Chavi, not now.”

“Not now?” I snapped, my anger bubbling to the surface. “When, Murat? After I’ve committed my life to you? After I’ve ignored every red flag and let myself believe you’re someone I can trust?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but Sulaman cut in, his tone gleeful. “See? Even she knows you’re hiding something.”

Murat’s patience snapped. He lunged at Sulaman, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall. “You think this is a game?” he growled, his voice a deadly whisper. “You think you can manipulate her and walk away unscathed?”

But Sulaman didn’t seem afraid. If anything, he looked victorious. “The truth will come out, Murat,” he said, his voice steady despite the prince’s grip. “You can’t hide it forever.”

Before I could process what was happening, a deafening crash echoed through the room. The glass wall leading to the balcony shattered, sending shards flying everywhere.

A third figure entered, cloaked in darkness, their face obscured but their presence unmistakably menacing.

“Murat,” the figure said, their voice low and chilling. “You’ve been careless.”

The air seemed to freeze, the broken shards of glass catching the faint light and scattering it like deadly stars. Murat didn’t release Sulaman, his grip still iron-strong, but his attention snapped to the shadowed figure stepping through the chaos.

I held my breath, the dagger in my hand now trembling slightly. This wasn’t just tension anymore—this was danger incarnate, and every fiber of my being screamed at me to run.

“Who sent you?” Murat’s voice was a growl, low and threatening, his composure fraying at the edges.

The figure stepped closer, boots crunching over the glass, but their face remained hidden beneath the hood of their cloak. Their presence was calm, calculated, as if they had all the time in the world.

 “Does it matter?” they said smoothly, their tone like silk hiding a blade. “I’m here to deliver a message, not to fight.”

“State it and leave.” Murat’s words were clipped, his muscles coiled like a predator ready to pounce.

The figure tilted their head, a mocking gesture. “How noble of you, Prince Murat, to shield your bride-to-be from your truths. 

But you’re only delaying the inevitable. Secrets have a way of revealing themselves… especially ones as bloody as yours.”

I stiffened at their words, my grip tightening on the dagger. My gaze darted between Murat and the cloaked figure, my mind racing. Bloody truths? What were they talking about?

“Murat, what is this?” I demanded, my voice shaking despite my attempt to sound steady.

“Enough,” he snapped, his tone sharper than I’d ever heard. “Chavi, step back.”

“No.” My voice rose, anger and defiance flaring within me. “You don’t get to keep shutting me out. Tell me what they mean!”

The figure chuckled darkly. “Oh, she’s fiery. I see why you’re drawn to her. But tell me, princess—how much fire will you have left when you learn what he’s truly capable of?”

Murat released Sulaman with a shove, turning his full focus to the intruder. “You’ll regret coming here,” he said, his voice cold and final.

Before the figure could respond, a deafening roar of wind surged through the chamber, extinguishing the candles and plunging the room into near-total darkness.

 Panic clawed at my chest as shadows danced wildly, and I felt a hand on my arm—Murat’s.

“Stay close to me,” he ordered, his voice a mixture of command and desperation.

The figure’s voice echoed through the darkness, unnervingly calm. “Secrets, Murat. They always come out in the end. Even yours.”

And just like that, the presence vanished, leaving only the chaos of shattered glass and unanswered questions behind.

I turned to Murat, my heart racing, my trust hanging by a thread. “Who was that? And what secrets are they talking about?”

He didn’t meet my eyes. Instead, he tightened his grip on my arm and whispered, “You need to leave. Now.”

I yanked my arm free from his grip, my frustration boiling over. “Leave? That’s your answer?” My voice cracked with the force of my anger. “Murat, you owe me an explanation! I’m not running away just because someone decides to drop cryptic threats about you.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes flicking between me and the shattered glass beneath our feet. For a moment, I saw something raw and vulnerable in his gaze—fear. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by his stoic mask.

“Chavi,” he said, his voice low but firm, “this is bigger than you realize. If you stay here, you’ll only be in danger. Trust me on this.”

“Trust you?” I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in the cavernous room. “How can I trust you when you keep hiding things from me? First, the women. Then, this shadowy intruder. And now, they’re talking about bloody secrets? How many lies am I supposed to overlook, Murat?”

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, but I held my ground. “You don’t understand,” he said, his tone edged with frustration. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done to protect you.”

“Protect me?” I hissed. “Or protect yourself from the truth getting out?”

Before he could answer, a sharp sound cut through the air—a metallic clang, echoing down the corridors. Murat’s head snapped toward the source, his body tensing like a coiled spring.

“They’re not done,” he muttered under his breath, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword.

“Who’s ‘they’?” I demanded, stepping in front of him. “Tell me what’s going on, Murat!”

But before he could respond, the faint flicker of torchlight appeared in the hallway beyond the chamber. The footsteps that followed were slow and deliberate, growing louder with each passing second.

Murat turned to me, his expression a mix of urgency and regret. “Chavi, you need to trust me just this once. Go back to your chambers. Lock the door and don’t open it for anyone but me.”

“And leave you here? With them?” I shook my head, my voice breaking. “No, Murat. I’m not abandoning you.”

“You have to,” he insisted, his tone fierce. “This isn’t about pride or trust anymore. It’s about keeping you alive.”

The torchlight grew brighter, the footsteps now accompanied by murmured voices. Time was running out.

“Murat—”

“I’ll come for you,” he interrupted, his hand brushing against my cheek, a rare and fleeting gesture of tenderness. “But you have to leave now.”

I hesitated, my heart warring with my mind. But as the shadows loomed closer and the tension in Murat’s body grew unbearable, I made my choice.

With a reluctant nod, I turned and ran, my footsteps echoing in the darkened corridor. Each step felt heavier than the last, my mind swirling with questions and doubts.

But just as I reached the stairs leading back to the palace, a chilling thought gripped me.

What if Murat wasn’t the only one keeping secrets?

What if the danger wasn’t just in the shadows—but in the very foundation of everything I thought I knew about him?

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