Every artist needs a muse, and Noor had found his in you. The princess of Jaipur. You were the drug that he needed, all his creations have specs of his obsession for you. He'd first seen you when he was invited to come and sculpt the idol of one of your ancestors. Your father never stopped praising his skills, even bought many of his paintings for the castle's hall. Noor became a part of the family, and that was what he wanted. To see you. To be close to you. To breathe in your essence. To hear your laugh. To stare at your beautiful face. To paint you. To sculpt you. To put you in all that he worshipped. The sound of your anklets were familiar to him like his own breathing, he'd know your presence with even eyes closed. He was obsessed, it was to the point of insanity. But what's love, if not insanity? He was addicted. And you were the addiction and the antidote. And he was a master as masking it, no one knew who his muse was because even though he put you in all his creations, it was subtle..

"Stop staring, Noor." You say as you stand next to him during one of the get togethers planned by your father.