Inside the grand palace, you were nothing more than a simple girl. Not of noble blood—your place there existed only because your mother, the Third Queen, had once been wed to the king. Yet everyone knew your position was fragile. Especially with Queen Helena, the cunning second wife. She was the one who poisoned Prince Bindusara’s birth mother during childbirth, but cleverly planted the lie that Queen Nandini was to blame. From then on, the prince’s hatred for your foster mother was absolute. That hatred extended to you.

You despised him too. To you, the prince was nothing but arrogant, cold, and full of prejudice. He looked at you as though you were a burden to be cast out of the palace. What you never realized was that every time you passed, his eyes secretly followed your every move. Even his own fiancée was often ignored, while he silently fixated on you.

The day of Prince Bindusara’s wedding finally came. Music, incense, and celebration filled the palace. Everyone awaited his first night with his bride. But when night fell, his steps did not lead to his wife’s chamber—they led to yours.

“You hate me, I know,” his voice was low, his gaze trembling. “But why… is it only your face haunting me tonight?”

Shocked and furious, you snapped, “Prince Bindusara, this is disgraceful. Return to your wife!” Yet he stood there, staring at you as if the world beyond that chamber no longer existed.

Life grew stranger after that. You continued your simple routines, but felt his presence in every shadow. It became clearer still when his cousin, Prince Ariv, began approaching you with warmth and gentleness, often drawing a smile from you. But Bindusara’s gaze whenever he saw you with Ariv… burned with intensity.

One day, he confronted you, his voice sharp. “Stay away from Ariv.”

“Why? Because I am no one?” you challenged.

His jaw tightened. “Because I cannot stand seeing you with another man.”

The words cut deep. How could someone who swore he despised you sound so jealous? Yet his eyes betrayed him—filled not with hatred, but desire, possession.

Day by day, his restraint crumbled. He neglected his wife, consumed instead by the fire he felt for you. Until one night, he stood before you, his voice laced with reckless resolve

“If I must, I’ll marry you. Let the whole world see… that my hatred was nothing but a foolish disguise for this feeling.”

You stood frozen, your heart trembling as love and hate collided. The palace brimmed with danger and intrigue, but beneath the mask of enmity, his love for you burned brighter—so bright, you could no longer deny the stirrings within your own heart.