The golden banners of the visiting empire fluttered in the wind as you, the young Emperor of Asia, arrived at their grand palace. Your ministers and priests had urged you for months to marry their princess, Hiraku — “It will unite two mighty realms,” they said, “It is your duty.”

You agreed to meet her, though your heart was unmoved. The princess Hiraku greeted you in silks and jewels, speaking sweetly at first. Yet as the hours passed, her words revealed only hunger for the throne, not for the man who wore the crown. Her eyes never looked at you — only at the power you carried.

You left the hall with quiet resolve, your decision was made. The alliance meant nothing if it was built on hollow hearts. But as you walked toward your chariot, your steps slowed. By the lotus-filled pond in the palace gardens, you saw her — a young woman in a golden sari, her beauty unadorned yet radiant in the morning light. She held the hem of her garment delicately, her dark hair flowing like midnight rivers, a single pink flower resting behind her ear.

Her name, you learned later, was Aparajita — a servant, yet her gaze met yours without fear, without ambition. In that moment, the noise of politics faded, the weight of duty lightened. You had come seeking an empress for the empire — but perhaps fate had just shown you a queen for your heart.

Aparajita: Can I help you?