The room was dim, filled with only the quiet hum of machines and the fading fragrance of sandalwood. Myra lay beneath layers of cotton and silk, her wrist bandaged, her lip swollen, her brow creased even in unconsciousness. A low beeping monitor reminded them all that she was still breathing—but only just.
Ranvijay sat beside her, elbows on his knees, hands covered in dried blood. Some hers. Some his. Some from the man he still hadn't been able to kill.
He hadn't changed. Still in that same black shirt. Torn. Burned at the sleeve from a close call. His hair damp with sweat, cheeks dusted with grime. But it wasn't his body that was broken.
It was his silence.
Shiv stood quietly near the door, eyes flicking between Myra and his brother, unsure if words had any place here. But Ranvijay hadn't said anything since they brought her in. Not one word. Not a curse. Not a command. Not a breath wasted on fury.
He hadn't even let the palace doctors touch her until he sat beside her himself, holding her hand, pressing it against his forehead like prayer, like apology.
Shiv finally stepped forward. "Bhai—"
"Leave," Ranvijay whispered.
Shiv hesitated, then obeyed.
The door shut.
Now, only two heartbeats remained in the room.
He reached for her fingers again, lifting them gently, as if he feared she might vanish with a stronger touch.
His voice cracked for the first time.
"I failed you."
He closed his eyes.
"I promised myself I'd never let you cry again. And today… today I almost lost you."
His thumb brushed over her knuckles, slow, reverent.
"You were in that red lehenga… the same one Dadi Sa had chosen. Do you remember? You smiled when she said you looked like the bride of a forgotten god."
His lips curved. Just a little. Brokenly.
"You looked like that when I found you again. Not a bride. Not a goddess."
He swallowed, trembling.
"You looked like the last flame of a dying candle."
A tear escaped down his cheek. He didn't brush it away.
"I don't know what hurts more—the thought of you afraid… or the fact that I wasn't there when you needed me."
Another silence.
A heavier one.
He stood suddenly, his breath ragged. Paced. Then turned back, grabbing the chair in frustration and sinking into it again.
"Say something…" he whispered. "Yell at me. Curse me. Hit me if you want to. But just—wake up, Myra."
His voice shook like something dying.
"I can protect you from the world, I swear I can. But I don't know how to protect you from me."
He leaned forward again, resting his forehead beside hers on the pillow.
"I've done terrible things in my life… but if I ever become the reason you stop smiling—I'll never forgive myself."
His fingers were still laced with hers when he whispered next:
"Please, Myra. Come back."
Outside the bedroom, the palace was in chaos—wrapped in panic and questions, all without answers.
"She's not opening her eyes?" Anika's voice cracked as she followed Rajeshwari up the grand staircase, her hands wringing the edge of her dupatta.
"No," Rajeshwari said softly. "She's breathing normally, the doctor said she's physically stable. But… it's like her soul hasn't returned yet."
Anika blinked fast. "How is that possible, maa? She was—she was fine this morning."
"She's not broken, Anika," Dadi Sa added firmly, appearing behind them. "She's just… somewhere deep within herself. We all go there when the world becomes too much."
They paused at the door to the room—half open.
Inside, the figure of Ranvijay sat motionless beside Myra. Dressed in the same black shirt from the night before, now wrinkled and stained, sleeves pushed up, veins taut along his forearms. His fingers were interlaced with hers—gentle, unmoving. His head was bowed, shadowed by strands of tousled hair.
Anika stepped forward slightly. "Has he said anything?"
Shiv stood nearby, leaning against the wall. "Not since last night."
"He hasn't eaten," Rajeshwari murmured. "Hasn't rested. He won't leave her side."
Shiv nodded solemnly. "Not for a second."
Inside, Ranvijay brushed his thumb over Myra's fingers again, whispering something none of them could hear. His expression wasn't wild or raging like before—it was still. Too still. As though he'd locked every scream inside his chest, and it was choking him from the inside.
"I've never seen him like this," Anika whispered. "Not even when—"
Rajeshwari touched her shoulder. "Because this isn't pain. This is love."
Shiv's jaw clenched. "She's going to wake up. I know she will."
"I know too," Rajeshwari said quietly. "But you have to understand something, all of you—what happened last night… it has changed her."
Inside the room, Myra stirred slightly—just her lips twitching, a soft breath escaping.
Ranvijay stiffened, hope bursting behind his dark eyes—but it faded as quickly as it came.
He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and whispered like a vow, "Come back to me. Even if you hate me, even if you never smile at me again… just come back."
And outside that door, four hearts waited.
Because when a queen falls into shadows, even kingdoms hold their breath.