(A/N):

Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.

Guys I hope you put more comments and power stones... Which will encourage me...

-------------------------------------------------

The exhibition grounds had become so crowded that moving through them required patience.

People stood shoulder to shoulder, admiring the countless floral masterpieces that filled the festival grounds.

Children excitedly pointed at the larger sculptures while elders discussed which artwork deserved to win the king’s prize.

Everywhere Devara looked, he saw smiles, laughter, and genuine admiration for the artists who had spent so much time creating these beautiful displays.

Devara and Shakuni slowly walked through the crowd, occasionally stopping before an artwork that caught their attention.

Soon, they arrived before one of the most crowded displays in the entire exhibition.

Unlike the others, this wasn’t an animal or a palace.

It was a magnificent Shiva Linga.

Thousands of white jasmine flowers had been arranged with extraordinary precision to create the sacred form, while deep blue lotuses surrounded its base, giving the impression of the holy waters of the Ganga flowing around it.

Fresh bilva leaves had been placed carefully upon the top, and rings of marigolds circled the entire structure like rays of sunlight.

The craftsmanship was breathtaking.

For a brief moment, even the constant chatter around it grew quieter as visitors instinctively folded their hands in reverence before moving on.

Devara stood silently, genuinely impressed.

"The artist has remarkable devotion," he said softly.

Shakuni nodded in agreement.

-Nod!

"This wasn’t made merely to win gold."

"It feels more like an offering."

Just then, someone hurried past from the opposite direction.

The crowd shifted unexpectedly.

A group of children suddenly ran between the visitors, forcing several people to step aside.

In that brief confusion...

Someone collided directly with Devara.

-Thud.

The impact wasn’t particularly strong, but it was enough to make the other person lose balance.

A soft gasp escaped beneath a veil.

The figure stumbled backward before falling onto the flower-covered pathway.

Without thinking, Devara immediately bent down.

"My apologies."

He extended his hand naturally.

"Please..."

"Allow me."

The stranger hesitated for only a moment before placing a hand in his.

The instant their palms touched...

Devara’s expression changed ever so slightly.

His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

The hand was... Far too soft.

Not the rough, calloused hand of a farmer.

Not the firm grip of a merchant who handled goods every day.

Nor the hardened palm of a warrior accustomed to training with weapons.

It was delicate.

Smooth.

Light.

The kind of hand that had rarely performed heavy labor.

As he helped the stranger back to her feet, Devara’s suspicion quietly grew.

’A woman...’

The realization came almost immediately.

The person before him had disguised herself well.

She wore loose clothing that concealed her figure.

A cloth covered most of her face.

Even her voice hadn’t escaped during the brief collision.

To everyone else nearby...

She would simply appear to be another traveler.

But the brief touch had already betrayed one part of the disguise.

As the mysterious figure steadied herself, Devara’s eyes instinctively rose to meet hers.

Only her eyes were visible above the dark cloth wrapped around her face.

Clear. Bright.

Remarkably expressive.

For just a heartbeat...

Their gazes met.

There was surprise in those eyes.

Then...

Something else.

Recognition?

No. Not quite.

More like... Concern.

Before Devara could study them any further, the woman quickly lowered her gaze.

"Forgive me."

Her voice was deliberately lowered, making it difficult to identify.

She pulled her hand away almost immediately.

Without waiting for another word, she turned and disappeared into the moving crowd with surprising speed.

Devara remained standing where he was.

Watching.

His eyes followed her retreating figure.

She never looked back.

Yet her pace wasn’t that of someone embarrassed after accidentally bumping into a stranger.

She was leaving...

As though she wanted to avoid remaining there even one second longer.

Shakuni stepped beside him.

"What happened?"

Devara didn’t answer immediately.

His gaze remained fixed on the direction the woman had vanished.

Finally, he spoke quietly.

"Something feels... off."

Shakuni frowned.

"You recognized her?"

Devara slowly shook his head.

"No."

"But she isn’t an ordinary visitor."

"What makes you say that?"

"The disguise."

He kept watching the crowd.

"Someone trying not to attract attention usually behaves naturally."

"She behaved like someone trying too hard."

"Her clothes concealed her appearance."

"Her voice was intentionally altered."

"And..."

He paused for a moment.

"...those eyes."

Shakuni looked at him curiously.

"The eyes?"

"I’ve seen enough people to remember eyes."

Devara’s expression became thoughtful.

"If I see them again..."

"I’ll recognize them."

He silently committed every detail of those eyes to memory.

Their shape. Their color.

Even the way they had briefly widened when their hands touched.

Nothing escaped him.

By now the mysterious woman had almost disappeared into the sea of festival visitors.

Devara made his decision.

He turned toward Shakuni.

"I’ll follow her."

Shakuni immediately understood.

"I’ll stay here."

He looked around the crowded exhibition.

"If someone asks..."

"I’ll simply say my business partner found an interesting customer."

A faint smile crossed Devara’s face.

"That should be believable."

Without another word, he slipped quietly into the crowd.

His movements were unhurried.

There was no need to rush.

Chasing someone openly would only alert them.

Instead, he blended naturally with the festival visitors, occasionally pausing before flower displays or merchant stalls while keeping the mysterious woman within sight.

Several times she turned corners.

Several times she disappeared behind groups of people.

Yet each time, Devara calmly adjusted his path, never allowing her to move completely beyond his vision.

Ahead of him...

The mysterious woman continued walking.

She never once looked back.

But for some reason...

Her pace had become slightly faster.

Devara continued walking through the bustling festival, never once quickening his pace.

The mysterious woman remained just far enough ahead to stay within sight.

She neither hurried nor slowed down, weaving naturally through the crowd like any other festival visitor.

For someone watching casually, nothing about her movements appeared unusual.

But to Devara...

Something wasn’t right.

Every few moments she would disappear behind a gathering of people before appearing again from another direction.

She never looked back.

Yet somehow she always seemed to know exactly how much distance separated them.

’Interesting...’

Devara thought.

’She’s making sure I keep following.’

Just then, a group of village women entered the narrow pathway ahead.

Each of them carried large clay pots filled with water, balanced effortlessly upon their heads.

Some carried two, others three, while one elderly woman somehow managed to walk steadily with four pots stacked one above another.

The women chatted cheerfully among themselves as they crossed the street.

Their colorful sarees and neatly arranged line completely blocked Devara’s view.

He waited patiently.

There was no point trying to squeeze past them.

Only after they had completely crossed did he continue forward.

"...."

A single heartbeat later...

He frowned.

The mysterious woman...

Had vanished.

The narrow street ahead stretched in three different directions.

One path led toward the exhibition grounds.

Another toward the merchant stalls.

The third disappeared into a quieter part of the village.

There wasn’t a single trace of her.

Devara slowly turned his head from one side to another.

His sharp eyes carefully examined every rooftop, every alley and every passing face.

Nothing.

Not even the flutter of the dark veil she had been wearing.

’She disappeared too quickly.’

He took a few calm steps toward the nearest junction.

Perhaps she had hidden inside one of the nearby houses.

Or blended into another crowd.

Just as he was about to turn into the alley...

A strange sensation brushed against his senses.

Someone... Behind him.

The feeling lasted only an instant.

Most people would have reacted immediately.

Instead...

Devara remained exactly where he was.

His breathing didn’t change.

His expression remained calm.

The next moment...

Shing.

A cold blade rested gently against the side of his neck.

The steel reflected the morning sunlight.

"...."

Whoever held it possessed remarkable control.

The sword wasn’t trembling in the slightest.

It merely rested there.

Close enough that a careless movement would leave a shallow cut.

Several villagers walked past the alley without noticing anything.

From their angle, the sword remained hidden behind Devara’s shoulder.

A calm female voice spoke from behind him.

"...Don’t move."

There wasn’t fear in her voice.

Nor anger. Only caution.

"Who are you?"

"And why have you been following me?"

Devara remained silent.

"...."

Not because he couldn’t answer.

He simply wanted to hear a little more.

The silence stretched for several moments.

The woman clicked her tongue softly.

-Tch!

"I asked you a question."

Still... No reply.

The sword pressed ever so slightly closer.

"I dislike repeating myself."

"What exactly are you trying to do?"

Before Devara could answer...

Soft footsteps echoed from the front.

Another figure slowly emerged from the corner of the alley.

It was the mysterious woman.

Or rather...

The person he had been following.

She stopped a few steps away from him.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

Then she slowly reached up.

Her fingers untied the cloth covering her face.

The dark veil slipped away.

Revealing a face Devara recognized immediately.

Princess Indhumati.

Her bright eyes looked directly into his.

There was no trace of the cheerful princess who had spent the previous day shopping through the festival with her friends.

Instead...

She looked surprisingly serious.

Even a little suspicious.

Devara blinked once. Then, inwardly...

"...."

He sighed.

’Well...’

’That explains the eyes.’

He couldn’t help cursing himself in his mind.

’Of course they looked familiar.’

’Because they belonged to the princess he had met the previous day.’

The realization answered every question he had been asking since their accidental collision.

He had unknowingly followed the princess herself.

Indhumati folded her arms.

"So..."

A faint smile appeared on her face.

"The merchant who claims he can’t even hold a sword..."

"...has been secretly following me through half the festival."

Her tone wasn’t hostile.

But it certainly carried amusement.

"I wonder..."

She tilted her head slightly.

"How should I take that?"

Only then did Devara glance sideways.

Without turning completely, he could see the polished edge of the sword resting against his neck.

The hand holding it belonged to one of the princess’s female guards.

Unlike the ceremonial guards accompanying the royal procession, this woman moved without making a sound.

Her grip was steady.

Her eyes never left Devara.

It became obvious how Indhumati had disappeared.

She hadn’t vanished.

The princess and her guard had deliberately switched places while the group of women carrying water pots blocked his vision.

It was a simple trick.

But executed perfectly amid the crowded festival.

Devara smiled faintly.

"I must admit..."

He looked at the princess.

"...that was cleverly done."

Indhumati raised an eyebrow.

"You don’t seem particularly worried."

"I’ve had a sword at your neck for quite some time now."

Devara chuckled.

"If you truly intended to harm me..."

He lightly tapped the flat of the blade with a finger.

"...we wouldn’t still be having this conversation."

The guard frowned slightly.

Indhumati, however...

Couldn’t help smiling.

"...."

It seemed the mysterious merchant was every bit as unusual as she had suspected.

*******************************

(Author note:)

I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea’s.

-->

Don’t forget to review guys...