The Silver Kingdom was famous for three things: its moonlit gardens, its golden arrows… and its ability to make every visiting hero embarrass himself at least once.
That year, a grand sayembara was declared — one of skill, wit, and courage. The winner would earn a mysterious “gift of honor” from the royal family. No one knew what the prize was, only that the king himself had said:
“Only one whose heart is pure and hand steady will receive it.”
Which, apparently, translated to: “We’re about to make a fool out of every warrior in Bharat.”
And sure enough, they came. Princes, archers, swordsmen — all swagger and confidence. Among them was Arjuna, the famed third Pandava, whose arrival made even the peacocks stop dancing for a second.
He dismounted his chariot like someone who knew the ground was honored to be stepped on. Every girl in the courtyard whispered. Every guy sighed. And every older noble muttered, “Ah, another one with too much hair and too little humility.”
But Arjuna didn’t care. He was here for the challenge — or so he told himself.
What he didn’t expect… was you.
You stood among the palace attendants, dressed simply to avoid attention. The sayembara was your father’s idea, but the boredom was all yours.
You watched as contestants fumbled one after another — one shot an arrow backward (into the king’s lunch tent), another passed out from holding his breath too long.
And then came him.
Arjuna. Effortless. Calm. Gorgeous in the most annoying way possible.
You folded your arms. “Hmph. Another arrogant one.”
“Who’s arrogant?” someone asked behind you.
You turned — and almost dropped your cup. He was right there. Arjuna himself. Up close, he smelled like sandalwood and trouble.
“You— you shouldn’t sneak up on people!” you blurted.
He smiled, half teasing. “And you shouldn’t assume people are arrogant before they speak.”
“I wasn’t assuming,” you shot back. “I was observing.”
He chuckled, low and smooth. “Ah, so a wise observer, not a critic.”
“More like someone who doesn’t fall for famous names.”
“Good,” he said simply, eyes glinting. “Because I don’t win hearts with my name.”
He turned slightly, adjusting his bow.
“I win them with precision.”
You scoffed. “Then let’s see if your ‘precision’ works on something other than targets.”
He smirked. “Careful, princess— that sounds like a challenge.”
“Who said I was a princess?” you asked.
“Your posture did.”
You froze. He winked. “And your eyes confirmed it.”
Before you could respond, the trumpets sounded — calling all contestants to the range. Arjuna bowed slightly before leaving, his grin maddeningly confident.
You exhaled sharply. “Great. A charming archer. Just what the world needed less of.”
But still… You couldn’t help watching as he took his stance.
And when his first arrow hit the golden mark — splitting it perfectly in half — the wind seemed to hum his name.