His eyes widened. He pointed to her locket—a family heirloom she always wore. Inside was a miniature painting of… Naina. The serpent queen. Her own great-great-grandmother.
Anamika wept. Not for the swan prince. But for the serpent queen—her own blood, erased from history.
But Princess Anamika, sixteen and headstrong, had read every other book in the palace. One humid monsoon night, she picked the lock.
And Devraj? He had silenced her truth first. His curse was merely an echo.
His eyes widened. He pointed to her locket—a family heirloom she always wore. Inside was a miniature painting of… Naina. The serpent queen. Her own great-great-grandmother.
Anamika wept. Not for the swan prince. But for the serpent queen—her own blood, erased from history.
But Princess Anamika, sixteen and headstrong, had read every other book in the palace. One humid monsoon night, she picked the lock.
And Devraj? He had silenced her truth first. His curse was merely an echo.