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"H... Hukum, I... I th... think I... I... I lo..."

Dhara's words crumbled midway, and before they could escape her trembling lips, she quickly covered her mouth with both hands.

Her eyes widened in shock as they landed on the dupatta lying before her. A strange silence surrounded her, echoing only her own heartbeat. She stood frozen-helpless, horrified, and lost.

"Are you out of your mind, Dhara?" she whispered to herself, tears spilling from her eyes.

She was crying, not because she was weak, but because she was torn-between what she felt and what she believed was right.

"You can't say that. You have no right," her mind screamed at her.

"Do you even remember who you are and who he is? Can someone touch the moon, Dhara? No. It's just a fairytale. Hukum isn't a storybook prince; he's a real king. And you... you are not Cinderella. You're a servant of this palace, born to serve, not to dream. Don't let your foolish heart forget that."

Her own thoughts scolded her like a strict guardian.

"In fairytales, Cinderella finds her prince. But this... this is real life. No Prince Charles is going to take you away from here. You are a servant-and you will always be one. It's a sin to even think like this about him. He saved your life, Dhara. He showed you kindness-an unimaginable favor. And you... this is how you repay him? By letting your heart wander into forbidden desires? Don't be so naive."

But another voice spoke too-softer, but deeply painful.

"Even if he saved your life, does that mean he can claim it?" her heart asked gently.

"Do you not value your dignity? Is your self-respect so cheap that one favor can buy it? Every time you stand close to him, does your soul not tremble? Would you have allowed any of this if your parents were still alive? Does your heart not cry out in shame? Can you even forgive yourself?"

Her hand instinctively moved to her chest-her heart was racing. She felt suffocated.

"Enough! Both of you, just stop it!" Dhara cried out loud, her voice filled with anguish.

"If my parents were alive, I wouldn't be living like this-like someone with no one in the world."

Her voice trembled, but her pain flowed freely now.

"Aaj meri bhi apni family hoti... and maybe I'd be laughing somewhere, living a life full of love. But destiny took them away before I could even know them. What was my fault? I never saw my parents except in faded photographs. I don't know how it feels to be in a mother's warm embrace, or how it feels to rest your worries on a father's shoulder."

She looked up, her eyes brimming with sorrow.

"I've only ever imagined it. For all these years, I just survived. And then, you came. For the first time, someone saw my pain... really saw it. Maybe for you, it was nothing. Maybe you do this for everyone. But for me... it was everything."

She gave a soft, tearful smile.

"I had accepted this life. I wasn't happy, but I wasn't desperate to escape either. They are my family-even if they never saw me as theirs. But then you... you came like magic. Like a miracle I never believed in. You did something no one has ever done. You made me feel seen. Hukum... you are special to me. So, so special."

Her voice broke again, fragile now.

"But what happened that day... what did you do to me? Why did you touch me like that? Why there?"

She looked down, shame and fear mixing in her teary eyes.

"I didn't like it. I didn't understand it. Did I make a mistake by not stopping you? Am I going to be punished for that now? Please... please don't cast me out of Suryagardh."

She looked at her dupatta once more, clutching it to her chest like a shield-as if it could protect her from the storm within.

●□●■●□●

At Night

Just like that night, Dhara once again followed the same secret path, accompanied by the bodyguard, through the narrow tunnel beneath Rajgardh. She went through the same strict checking, and only after being cleared was she allowed entry into Samar's chamber.

As she stepped into his dimly lit room, she noticed it was empty-he wasn't there. The sound of running water from the washroom told her he was inside, likely finishing his shower.

Her eyes shifted to the food trolley set near the table. Without wasting a second, she hurried to prepare his plate.

The moment he stepped out, wrapped only in a towel, drops of water trailing down his skin and his hair still wet, Dhara froze. Her breath hitched.

Her eyes immediately dropped to the floor, her cheeks burning. It was nearly midnight-11:45 to be exact-but while he looked freshly awakened and alive, she appeared tired and worn.

She quietly served him food, standing beside him as he began eating in his usual calm manner. Her eyes, however, remained fixed on the plate.

She was starving. Like every other night, her only meal had been a packet of Maggie. Sometimes not even that-just water, gallons of it, to quiet her growling stomach.

As Samar finished dinner, he moved to take his medicines. That one act pulled her back into the memory of that night-the night that still haunted her. Her chest tightened with fear, but she reminded herself that she had no escape from his world, his grip.

When Samar turned and began walking toward her, her heartbeat spiked. She instinctively took a step back until her back hit the cold wall behind her. Her breath caught when his arm came up and rested on the wall beside her face, trapping her.

He smirked and leaned in, his intent clear in his eyes.

Before his lips could touch hers, Dhara murmured something-so softly, it was almost carried away by the wind. But Samar heard it.

"Th... Thank you..." she whispered, closing her eyes in fear.

He immediately pulled back.

"What? Are you mad?" he snapped, confused and slightly annoyed.

Dhara stood frozen, unsure of what to say. She had already said too much, and there was no turning back now.

"W... Woh... Hukum... This morning, Netra Ma'am took me to the hospital. The doctor said I can recover-that I can live like others. No more hiding my scars. No more shame. I can finally be free."

As she spoke, her eyes sparkled with hope. For the first time, Samar saw a light in her that he had never seen before-two tiny dimples framed her shy smile. And something inside him shifted. He realized then, that smile was meant only for him.

"Hukum, tha..." But before she could finish, he captured her lips in a kiss.

Dhara stood still, shocked. She hadn't expected it. Day by day, she felt buried beneath the weight of his kindness. She didn't know how to return the countless favors he had shown her. She had nothing-nothing of value to offer.

And now, in this moment, she didn't know what was right or wrong. What was happening between them would change everything, yet all she could think about was how to repay him. When her mind found no answer, her heart surrendered. She slowly closed her eyes.

**"If this gives you happiness, Hukum... then so be it. If this is the only way to repay your kindness, then I won't stop you. I will do anything for you."**

-Dhara's heart whispered, as she gave herself up completely.

Samar held her tightly by the waist, her body trembling under his touch. Her hands moved forward instinctively, aching to hold him back, but she forced them to stay behind.

When he finally pulled away, she was breathless. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. What she truly needed in that moment was a hug-something to anchor her. But he didn't notice; he was still lost in his own world.

She could still feel his breath on her face.

Moments later, once the storm between them had passed, he brought her face close to his again.

"I'm not used to hearing people praise me like this. Don't make it a habit-it won't end well for you," he said coldly, a warning hidden behind his smooth voice.

"B... But Hukum, I-" she started, but he interrupted her.

"Shh. Not another word. If you thank me again, the consequences won't be this easy," he said firmly, pressing his finger against her lips.

She nodded quickly, eyes wide with fear.

"I've never met someone who doesn't like being praised... What kind of man are you, Hukum? You act tough, but I see you now-you're not what the world thinks. You're different... and you're good. I don't know what the world sees in you, but for me... you've become my world."

-Her thoughts drifted again, watching him in silent awe.

"Dhara... Dhara... Dhara..." Samar waved his hand in front of her face, snapping her out of her trance.

"Huh?" She blinked, startled, quickly looking away in embarrassment.

"S... Sorry," she mumbled.

"Stupid," he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Hukum... C... Can I ask you something?" she asked timidly. "Why... why are you doing all this for me? I'm just a servant in Suryagardh... then why?"

He looked at her coldly.

"That's none of your concern," he replied sharply.

Her heart sank. But she knew... she had no right to question him. She was here to follow orders, nothing more.

"Forget it," he added, voice firm. "Just remember one thing-don't open your mouth in front of anyone. The rest will be handled by Abhinav and Netra."

Dhara nodded silently, accepting his command without resistance.

●□●■●□●

Dhara's small frame trembled beneath him as he kissed her lips with a fierce hunger, exploring every curve and corner. Her breath hitched, and unknowingly, she parted her lips from his, gasping for air. Samar let her, his own chest rising and falling.

His fingertip traced a slow, deliberate line along her cleavage. Her body, still young and unfinished, wasn't what he might have craved, but there was a quiet allure in its imperfection that drew him in.

He pressed his face against her skin, nuzzling gently, and her fingers tightened around the bedsheet, clutching it like an anchor. Dhara's breaths came heavy and uneven, her eyes squeezed shut.

Suddenly, a cruel memory clawed its way into her mind.

"I'll make you so ugly that even your shadow will scare people. You're so proud of your beauty-let's see what I do now," her aunt had sneered, pressing a searing rod against her chest and waist.

"M... Maami, ahhh, no, p-please... ahhhhh!" Dhara had screamed, the pain swallowing her whole.

The echoes of that torment flashed before her now, tears spilling from her eyes as the past collided with the present. Samar's lips found the scars etched into her skin, kissing them softly, marking them with tender love bites.

Her voice broke as she whispered to herself, "H... Hukum, I'm so ugly. You're touching me where no one else would dare-places they'd turn away from in disgust. I feel so broken inside. Why do you do this? You should hate me. But instead, every time, you show me through your touch that beauty isn't just skin deep. You're teaching me, without even knowing it, to love myself. I used to despise who I was, but now, with you touching the ugliest parts of me, I feel like the most beautiful girl alive. Thank you, Hukum."

Her teary eyes fluttered shut, not in pain but in a strange, overwhelming pleasure.

Samar's lips grazed her waistline, leaving a trail of love bites. It stung, but each touch felt like a piece of heaven to her.

Day by day, her heart swelled with respect-and something deeper, something like love.

"Ahhh," she gasped, shutting her eyes tight as he pinched her thigh.

His hands roamed shamelessly beneath her ghagra, caressing her skin. She was already half-bared, and now he reached for the knot of her ghagra, ready to free her completely.

But as his fingers tugged at it, her breath caught, her body freezing with a sudden, unfamiliar fear. Her hands trembled as she grabbed his, stopping him. She knew it was forbidden for a servant to halt a prince, but her heart screamed louder than her duty.

"H... Hu... Hukum, please," she pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

He rolled his eyes and pulled away, rising from her. She quickly wrapped herself in the duvet, her voice small and shaky.

"S... Sorry," she whispered. Samar ignored her, lighting a cigarette and leaning back against the headboard, exhaling smoke in calm silence.

Dhara sat on the far side of the bed, sobbing quietly, guilt gnawing at her.

Why had she stopped him? Now he was angry, and it was her fault. But as the faint scent of smoke reached her, she glanced at him-he seemed unbothered, almost normal.

In his mind, Samar grumbled, "God, why is she crying so much? I didn't even do anything. If I had, she'd probably have turned Rajgardh upside down. Silly, foolish girl."

Dhara clutched the duvet tighter, her sobs muffled. "Dhara, idhar dekhiye," he ordered, his voice firm.

She froze, whispering prayers under her breath, terrified. Slowly, she turned, wiping her tears with trembling hands.

"Are you mad, Dhara?" he snapped, irritation lacing his tone.

"Stop crying first. You stopped me this morning, and now again. I know it'll take time for you to understand all this. But one thing you must never forget-no one touches you but me. I don't share what's mine. Your body isn't yours anymore; it's been mine since the day I laid eyes on you. You can touch yourself to bathe, to clean, but never for pleasure. That right is mine alone." His voice was commanding, possessive, his eyes burning with intensity.

He pulled her closer, and she flinched, fear flickering in her chest.

"You don't let me touch you there-it angers me. But no one else can-not even you. Keep that clear in your little head," he warned, sealing his words with a fierce, authoritative kiss.

In her heart, she thought, "Hukum, even if you hadn't said it, I'd never have dared. I've been yours since the day you saved me. Only yours."

She surrendered to his claim, her soul echoing his words.

When he was satisfied, he released her. She buried her face in the pillow, desperate to steady her racing breath. She knew Samar would never hug her, never comfort her-she'd have to find her own strength.

He rose from the bed, walking to his private royal bar. Grabbing a bottle, he stepped out onto the balcony, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

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