Chapter 8 Threads of Fate
The sky over Chandlok had darkened with distant clouds, but the palace was aglow with murmurs and movement. Preparations were underway for the Spring Convergence—a grand celestial ceremony held once in a decade, when the three moons of Chandlok aligned.
To the court, it was a festival of power. To the people, a celebration of love and destiny.
To Sana… it was just another reminder that she didn’t belong.
---
Inside the servant quarters, Sana sat on her straw mat, folding silken cloths for the banquet. Her fingers moved swiftly, but her thoughts wandered back to Hatim.
The way he looked at her.
The way he stood up for her.
She had seen respect in his eyes—not pity, not command. And it scared her more than anything.
> Don’t feel this, Sana. It’s dangerous.
She touched the edges of her veil. The fabric had become her identity… but lately, she longed to breathe without it.
Just once.
---
In the royal war room, meanwhile, Roshni was pacing.
“I want eyes on her,” she snapped at her handmaiden. “Every move she makes, every word she speaks. I want to know before she even breathes.”
“But, Your Highness—she’s only a kitchen maid…”
Roshni’s hand slammed against the marble table.
“She is not just a kitchen maid. She’s a threat. To the legacy. To Hatim.”
The old seer beside her coughed gently. “Your Majesty… there’s something else.”
Roshni turned. “Speak.”
“There’s a mark on the girl’s shoulder. I saw it once… years ago. The same mark that was in the prophecy scroll. The sign of the Eternal Flame.”
Roshni’s eyes narrowed. “The one who bears that mark… is one half of the Immortal Pair.”
The seer nodded.
> “And the other… is your son.”
Roshni’s hands trembled before curling into fists.
> No. I won’t let her take him. I’ll burn this destiny myself if I have to.
---
That evening, Sana was summoned again—not by Roshni, but by Hatim himself.
She entered his study quietly, as always, keeping her gaze low.
> “I’ve called you for something important,” he said, not looking up.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
He held up a thick, ancient scroll.
> “This… was left by my ancestors. A scroll of true power. But only those with a calm mind can decode it.”
He glanced at her.
> “I thought… you might help me.”
Sana blinked. “Me? But I… I’m just—”
“Don’t say ‘just a servant’ again,” he cut her off, his voice quiet but firm.
She stepped forward and sat across from him at the low table. Their fingers brushed as they unrolled the scroll, and that soft spark between them flared again.
For hours, they studied the verses. The candlelight flickered around them, illuminating scrolls, books, and pages of long-forgotten knowledge.
> “You’re different,” Hatim said suddenly.
Sana looked up.
> “You’re not afraid of me.”
She hesitated. “I used to be. But now… no. I think you're the one who's afraid.”
Hatim’s brows furrowed. “Of what?”
> “Of feeling,” she said simply. “Of caring. Of being seen.”
He didn’t reply.
But he didn’t deny it either.
---
Later that night, after she left his chamber, Hatim sat alone in the glow of the dying fire.
He stared into the flames, his thoughts storming louder than before.
> Why her? Why now? Why does she feel like a truth I’ve always known?
His fists clenched.
Outside his window, the three moons were almost aligned.
And somewhere deep in the earth… something ancient stirred.
---
The next morning, the royal court gathered to discuss the Spring Convergence. Hatim was seated beside his mother, looking regal and composed.
But his gaze kept drifting… to the veiled girl pouring tea across the room.
Roshni noticed.
And her jaw tightened.
---
When the meeting ended, Roshni called for Sana.
“You think this is a fairy tale?” she hissed. “You think a cursed servant girl can charm a prince?”
Sana lowered her head. “I think… your son is more than a prince.”
Roshni’s eyes blazed.
> “You will not attend the Convergence ceremony. And from tomorrow… you will no longer serve in the royal chambers.”
Sana flinched. “But why?”
> “Because I said so.”
Sana nodded, holding back tears. But as she walked away, a single thought lit her heart.
> You can take me away from him… but not the bond we share.
---
That night, she sat in her chamber again, tracing the invisible mark on her shoulder.
A faint warmth pulsed from it—glowing beneath her skin.
> “What am I?” she whispered to herself.
She didn’t know the answer yet.
But she was getting closer.