After her confrontation with her father, she felt a strange sense of freedom. She had said it out loud.

She had claimed her love. To her, the hardest part was over. Now, all she had to do was tell Madhav, and they would figure out the rest together. She didn't care about the titles or the royal alliances. She just wanted her Madhav by her side.

She found him by the old marble gazebo. It was their spot, the place where they had shared countless stories and quiet silences. Madhav was standing with his back to her. .

Radhika approached him with a skip in her step, her heart drumming a happy, nervous beat. She didn't notice the way his shoulders were hunched or how tightly his hands were gripped together behind his back.

"Madhav!"

She called out, her voice bright and full of a hope she hadn't felt in years. Madhav stiffened but didn't turn around immediately. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second. He had to do this. He had to save her from himself.

"Madhav, listen to me."

She said, stepping into his space, her face glowing.

"Maine Dad se baat kar li. I told him everything. I told him I won't marry anyone else. I told him... that I love you."

(I talked to Dad.)

She waited. She expected him to gasp, to turn around with that beautiful red blush on his face, to stutter some sweet confession of his own. But Madhav remained still.

"Madhav? Kuch toh bolo? Aren't you happy?"

(Say something?)

Slowly, Madhav turned around. But the man standing before her wasn't her Madhav. His face was a mask of cold indifference. His eyes, usually so soft and expressive, were flat.

"Happy? Kyu Radhika Hukum?"

(Why Radhika Hukum?)

He asked, his voice devoid of any emotion. Radhika frowned, her smile faltering.

"Kyu? Because we don't have to hide anymore. I told Dad I want to marry you. We can be together."

(Why?)

Madhav let out a short, dry laugh.

"Marry me? Aapne mujhse pucha? Did you even think for a second what I want?"

(Did you ask me?)

Radhika stepped back, confused.

"What...what do you mean? Madhav, hum humesha se..."

(Madhav, we have always…)

"Humesha se kya?"

(Always what?)

Madhav interrupted, his voice sharp.

"Humesha se aapne mujhe apna khilona samjha hai. You liked to tease me because it made you feel powerful. You liked to see me blush because it fed your ego. But that's it."

(You have always seen me as your plaything.)

Radhika felt a cold chill wash over her.

"Madhav, what are you saying? You know how I feel. You feel it too. I know you do."

Madhav looked at her with a bored expression, though inside, his soul was screaming in agony. Every word he was about to say felt like he was stabbing himself, but he pictured the Maharaja's warning. He pictured her name being ruined. He steeled his heart.

"Mujhe aapke liye koi feeling nahi hai, Radhika."

(I don’t have any feelings for you, Radhika.)

He said coldly.

"Aap mere liye sirf is mahal ki Princess hain. At most, an acquaintance. Maine sirf isliye aapki baatein suni kyunki mere Papa aapke Dad ke liye kaam karte hain. It was my duty to be polite. Maine aapko kabhi apna dost bhi nahi samjha, lover toh door ki baat hai."

(You are just this palace’s Princess for me. At most, an acquaintance. I only listened to you because my father worked for yours. It was my duty to be polite. I never considered you my friend, lover is too far-fetched.)

Radhika felt as if he had slapped her. Her eyes widened.

"You're lying."

She whispered, her voice trembling.

"Tum jhoot bol rahe ho, Madhav. I saw the way you looked at me at the gala. I felt your hands when you fixed my hair. You can't fake that."

(You are lying, Madhav.)

She moved closer, desperate, grabbing his arms.

"Look at me! Look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me. Tell me you don't care."

Madhav forced himself to look directly at her. Seeing the tears welling up in her eyes almost broke him right then and there. He wanted to pull her into a hug and tell her he was sorry. But he didn't. He kept his gaze stony.

"I don't love you, Radhika. It was all in your head. Please...stop making this embarrassing for both of us."

Radhika let go of his arms as if they were made of fire. Her hurt was turning into a desperate kind of anger. She didn't believe him. She couldn't.

"Thik hai."

(Fine.)

She said, her voice cracking.

"If you don't care, then tell me this. Can you see me being married to someone else? Can you stand there and watch me take pheras with a Prince from somewhere? Can you watch another man hold my hand, walk with me, be close to me...be cozy with me? Can you handle that, Madhav?"

The images flashed through Madhav's mind like a nightmare. He saw her smiling at another man, leaning into someone else's touch, living her life with a stranger. The pain was so intense he almost gasped. He wanted to scream that he would die before letting that happen.

But he took a breath and looked at the sky instead of her face.

"Yes."

He said, the word barely a whisper, yet it felt like a thunderclap in the quiet garden.

"I can. In fact, it would be better. You deserve someone of your own status. A Prince would suit you much better than a Minister's son."

Radhika stared at him, waiting for him to tell her it was a joke. But Madhav didn't move. He stood there, cold and distant, like he didn't even know her.

The silence lasted for a long time. Then, a single tear escaped Radhika's eye and rolled down her cheek. She didn't wipe it away. 

"I see."

She said, her voice now dangerously quiet.

"I was wrong about you. You aren't shy, Madhav. You are a coward. You don't even have the courage to be honest with yourself."

Madhav didn't respond. He couldn't. If he opened his mouth, he was afraid he would sob. Radhika wiped her face with the back of her hand, her fierce expression returning, but this time, it was laced with a bitterness that wasn't there before.

"Don't worry. I won't bother you again. Go back to your books and your quiet corners. I hope you're happy with your duty."

She turned on her heel and marched away. She didn't look back. She walked until she reached the palace, her heart feeling like a lead weight in her chest.

Madhav watched her go until she disappeared into the shadows. Only then did he let out a choked sob. He slumped against the pillar of the gazebo, his legs giving out. He covered his face with his hands and wept silently. He had saved her reputation, but he had destroyed his world.

High above, on the dark balcony of his study, the Maharaja had watched the entire scene through a pair of binoculars. He saw Radhika's desperate gestures and her final departure. He saw Madhav's collapse after she left.

A cold, satisfied smile spread across his face. He lowered the binoculars and exhaled a long breath of relief.

"Good boy, Madhav."

The Maharaja whispered to himself.

"You did exactly what was necessary."

He turned away from the balcony and walked back to his desk, where the files of the royal alliances were spread out. He picked up the profile of the Prince of Jaipur.

"Vikram!"

He called out. 

"Call the Jaipur Palace tomorrow morning."

The Maharaja commanded, his voice full of triumph.

"Tell them we are ready to discuss the dates. And tell the jeweller to bring the heavy sets. We are going to have the biggest wedding Jodhpur has seen in a century."

The Maharaja sat down, feeling like a King who had just won a difficult war. He didn't care about the tears or the broken hearts. He only cared about the Rathore name. In his mind, the problem was solved. The fire in Radhika would eventually die down, and she would accept her fate.

The work was done. The lineage was safe. Or so he thought.