(Part - 1)
The soft light of morning filtered into the royal chamber.
"Princess Aira, wake up. You have your arms practice!" the servant urged, gently shaking her.
But the young princess only pulled the blanket over her head. "Five more minutes..." she mumbled, refusing to rise.
Aira, the beloved princess of the Rajput dynasty, was known not only for her beauty but also for her mischievous ways. She never obeyed rules, often slipping away from duties to enjoy her own adventures.
Suddenly, a sound echoed from outside the chamber-footsteps. The servant's eyes widened in alarm.
"Princess! Please wake up, your mother is coming!" she whispered urgently.
In an instant, Aira's eyes flew open. Without a second thought, she leapt from her bed and hurried to the window.
"Stop, Princess!" the servant pleaded, but Aira ignored her. With a daring grin, she climbed out of the window and disappeared into the palace gardens.
A moment later, Queen Isabella entered the room, her presence sharp and commanding. She was a woman of strict principles, forever worried about her daughter's reckless behavior.
"Where is Princess Aira?" she asked sternly.
The servant bowed her head in fear. "Y-Your Majesty... the princess... she climbed out of the window."
Queen Isabella's expression hardened, though her eyes carried the faint trace of weariness. "When she returns," she said coldly, "send her to me at once."
With that, the queen turned and left, her footsteps echoing down the corridor. The servant let out a trembling breath, praying for Aira's safe return-and for mercy when mother and daughter met again.
Disguised in a simple cloak, Princess Aira wandered through the bustling market streets. Bright fabrics fluttered in the wind, the fragrance of fresh spices filled the air, and children's laughter echoed around her. She adored her nation-its colors, its people, its life.
As she admired the sights, a sudden whisper caught her attention. A group of village girls sat beneath a tree, chatting eagerly. Curious, Aira slipped behind the branches of a nearby tree and leaned closer to listen.
"Our Princess Aira is turning sixteen this year," one girl whispered.
Another sighed, "Yes... and she will be married soon. In our land, every princess must marry at the age of sixteen. It is our tradition."
A third girl chuckled softly. "But our princess is so naughty. I wonder which king would dare marry her?"
The others giggled, though one added in a serious tone, "It doesn't matter if she is playful or not. The rule is the rule. And her birthday is this very month."
Aira's heart skipped a beat. Her smile vanished as the truth sank in. Married? At sixteen?
She pressed her back against the tree trunk, her mind racing. She had always known her mother was strict, but she never realized this was the reason-that her freedom, her laughter, her wild adventures were soon to be taken away.
For the first time, Princess Aira felt a chill of fear. The lively, rule-breaking girl who always escaped rules now stood frozen, realizing that her life was no longer her own.
Princess Aira ran from the market, her heart pounding, tears burning in her eyes. She didn't stop until she reached the palace gates. Bursting inside, she hurried through the grand corridors until she found herself at her father's chambers.
"Papa!" she cried loudly, throwing open the doors.
King Virendra Singh Rajput, the proud ruler of the dynasty, looked up in surprise as his daughter rushed forward and clung to him tightly. His stern face softened instantly. Gently, he stroked her head, trying to calm her trembling.
"What is it, my princess? Why is my Aira so afraid?" he asked warmly.
Through tears, Aira looked up at him. "Papa... they say girls are married and sent to another nation. I don't want to leave you and Mother. I don't want to go anywhere!" Her voice broke as she sobbed into his chest.
Before the king could answer, the doors opened and Queen Isabella stepped inside, her presence as commanding as ever. Her sharp gaze fell on her daughter.
"Aira," she said firmly, "it is our culture. Every girl is married and sent to another land. You are no exception."
"I don't want to leave!" Aira shouted, shaking her head. And before anyone could stop her, she pulled away and ran from the chamber, her footsteps echoing through the palace.
The queen exhaled deeply, her eyes filled with both frustration and concern. Turning to her husband, she said coldly, "With such behavior, who will ever marry her? She is too childish... too stubborn."
King Virendra, however, only smiled faintly, his voice steady and full of pride. "Do not worry. Whoever becomes my daughter's husband will accept her-her mischief, her innocence, her fire. He will support her always, for that is the only man worthy of Princess Aira."