60.
When the auspicious day of the princess's naming ceremony arrived, the capital blossomed into a sea of celebration.
The palace gates remained open from sunrise to moonrise as kings, queens, sages, and nobles from every corner of the daitya realms arrived bearing gifts worthy of a royal child.
Streets were adorned with fragrant flowers, lamps illuminated every courtyard, and music echoed through the kingdom as the people celebrated the birth of their beloved princess.
King Virochan and Queen Suruchi left no guest uninvited.
Invitations were even sent to Mount Kailash itself, addressed to the Great Lord who had granted them their long-awaited blessing.
A messenger returned several days later, bowing respectfully before the royal couple.
"Mahadev entered deep meditation soon after bestowing the boon," he informed them. "He cannot leave Mount Kailash. However, before beginning his penance, the Lord conveyed his blessings for the child and prayed that she may walk the path of righteousness."
Though saddened by his absence, the king and queen accepted his blessings with grateful hearts.
The celebration welcomed not only allied rulers but also many daitya and asura kings with their families. Their arrival surprised the younger nobles, for rival clans seldom gathered beneath one roof without suspicion.
Yet there was one man capable of such a feat.
King Virochan.
Among mortals, devas, and even many sages, Virochan was celebrated as a courageous and honorable ruler.
Among the older asura warlords, however, whispers followed his name.
"Too merciful."
"Too forgiving."
"A king who refuses to conquer is hardly a king at all."
Many considered his unwillingness to slaughter helpless mortals or wage needless wars a sign of weakness rather than strength. They believed fear was the only language worthy of a daitya ruler.
Virochan never argued with them.
He simply smiled.
His kindness was not born of cowardice but of conviction.
Having spent his youth traveling among the many daitya clans, he had earned friendships where others had forged rivalries. He treated every ruler with respect, settled disputes before they became wars, and offered aid without demanding tribute in return.
It was because of that goodwill that, despite their differing ideals, nearly every daitya king had accepted his invitation.
For one day, ancient feuds were forgotten.
On that day, they had not gathered as rivals.
They had come to bless the little princess who, blissfully unaware of the weight of destiny upon her tiny shoulders, slept peacefully in her mother's arms.
One by one, the guests stepped forward to offer their blessings and gifts to the infant princess.
The little girl accepted every sparkling jewel, embroidered blanket, and golden trinket with the same infectious delight.
She laughed whenever someone jingled a bracelet before her, reached out with chubby hands toward anything that glittered, and rewarded every guest with a gummy smile that seemed capable of melting even the sternest hearts.
Wrapped in silks as soft as clouds, with tiny flower crowns resting upon her dark curls, Princess Maya looked less like the daughter of a daanav king and more like a woodland fairy born from blossoms and nectar.
Even the hardened warriors found themselves smiling at the sight.
Yet amid the cheerful festivities, one arrival drew every eye in the grand hall.
The mighty Daitya King of the Northeast entered with his family, his imposing presence commanding instant respect. Walking beside him was the reason whispers spread through the gathering.
His young son.
Only a few years earlier, the royal couple had been blessed with an heir—a prince named Raudrayan.
Though still a child, the prince possessed an uncommon beauty.
His raven-black hair framed sharp yet delicate features, while his striking crimson eyes carried a quiet intensity uncommon for one so young.
Draped in finely woven royal garments, he stood with remarkable composure, his posture already reflecting the dignity expected of a future king.
Many nobles remarked that if the boy continued to grow as he had begun, he would become one of the most handsome princes among the daityas.
Unlike the other children, who eagerly crowded around the cradle, Raudrayan remained quietly at his father's side, observing the tiny princess from afar. There was neither arrogance nor impatience in his gaze—only calm curiosity.
King Virochan noticed the reserved young prince and chuckled warmly.
"Come, Prince Raudrayan," he beckoned. "Surely my daughter will not bite."
A ripple of laughter passed through the court as the boy hesitated for a brief moment before walking toward the cradle.
The moment he leaned over to look at the infant, Maya's bright amber eyes met his.
For a heartbeat, the bustling hall seemed to fall silent.
Then, with a delighted squeal, Maya reached out with both tiny hands, grabbed a fistful of the prince's robes, and refused to let go.
The court erupted into amused laughter.
Raudrayan blinked in surprise, looking first at the determined little princess and then helplessly at his father.
"It appears," the Daitya King laughed, "my son has been chosen."
The court burst into warm laughter as the infant refused to release the prince's robes.
"Look at that!" one noble exclaimed. "The princess has chosen her first friend."
Embarrassed, Raudrayan carefully tried to free himself.
Yet Maya only giggled, her tiny fingers tightening around the embroidered fabric as if she had found the most fascinating toy in the world.
Unable to pry her away without making her cry, the prince reluctantly remained beside the cradle while the adults laughed at his predicament.
After several moments, Maya finally let go.
Instead of crying, she offered him a radiant smile—pure, innocent, and without a trace of fear.
It was the first time anyone had looked at Raudrayan that way.
Not as the heir of a powerful kingdom.
Not as a future conqueror.
Simply... as Raudrayan.
The young prince stood motionless.
Something stirred within him—something he was too young to understand.
As his father called him away, he glanced back one last time.
Maya had already forgotten him.
She was happily reaching toward another guest's necklace, laughing as though the boy who had occupied her attention moments ago had never existed.
For everyone else, it was a fleeting moment.
For Raudrayan...
...it was not.
Years later, the servants of the Northeastern Palace would often find the prince staring absentmindedly at the tiny flower bracelet Maya had unknowingly dropped during the ceremony.
He refused to let anyone throw it away.
Whenever someone asked why he kept such a meaningless trinket, he would simply reply,
"It belongs to me."
No one thought much of it.
Children often became attached to peculiar things.
None realized that what had begun as innocent fascination would slowly twist into something far darker.
By the time Raudrayan became a man, he no longer merely admired Princess Maya.
He believed she had always been destined to be his.
And anyone who dared stand between them would become an obstacle to be removed.