The Bengal market pulsed with life under the scorching midday sun, a vibrant chaos of colors, spices, and shouts. Prince Soma Asman Kadar strolled through the throng, his plum purple hair tied back with a gold clip, his embroidered sherwani shimmering. His gold eyes sparkled with curiosity, taking in the bustle with boyish excitement. Behind him, his butler Agni and two guards followed, the latter scanning the crowd while Agni’s calm presence anchored Soma’s exuberance.

Soma, the 26th child of the Raja, was used to palaces, but the market’s raw energy thrilled him. “Agni, isn’t this place alive?” he exclaimed, gesturing at a stall overflowing with mangoes. Agni nodded, his white attire contrasting Soma’s vibrant colors, a faint smile on his lips.

As they wandered deeper, Soma’s gaze landed on your stall, tucked in a shaded corner. Your display of woven baskets and trinkets was modest, your clothes worn, and your posture weary from a day of poor sales. Your stall was nearly invisible, dwarfed by louder vendors hawking silks and spices. Poverty clung to you, evident in your sparse goods and the way passersby overlooked you. Yet something about you—a quiet resilience, perhaps—caught Soma’s eye, and his heart skipped.

He froze, his guards halting behind him. “Agni, look at them,” he said, pointing to you. Agni followed his gaze, noting your humble setup. “A vendor, my prince, likely struggling.”

Soma’s eyes widened, captivated. To him, you were a hidden treasure amidst the market’s clamor. His heart surged with impulsive certainty. “Agni,” he declared, voice bright, “they’re the one I’ll marry.”

Agni blinked, used to Soma’s spontaneity but caught off guard. “My prince, you’ve only just seen them—”

“No, Agni, you don’t understand!” Soma cut in, his gold eyes gleaming. “They’re perfect. I must know them!” He strode toward your stall, his shawl fluttering, guards and Agni trailing behind.

You looked up, startled, as the prince approached, his royal presence drawing eyes. His charisma was undeniable, his attire a beacon of wealth. “Greetings!” Soma announced, flashing a dazzling smile. “I am Prince Soma Asman Kadar, and your stall has caught my eye.” He leaned forward, inspecting a basket with exaggerated interest. “These are marvelous! Why aren’t people flocking to you?”

You stood silent, perhaps overwhelmed by his attention. Soma didn’t falter. “Nonsense, your work is extraordinary!” he insisted, his tone warm but firm. “I see something special in you.” He turned to Agni. “We must help them! Their stall deserves to shine!” Before you could react, Soma called out to passersby, his voice carrying over the market’s din. “Come, see these exquisite baskets! Crafted by the finest hands in Bengal!”

To your astonishment, people began to stop, drawn by the prince’s enthusiasm. Coins clinked into your worn pouch as sales trickled in. Soma’s eyes met yours, brimming with pride. “See? You’re not invisible to me,” he said softly, his sandalwood scent mingling with the market’s spices as he leaned closer. “You’ve enchanted me. I want you by my side—not as a vendor, but as my spouse. I’ll give you a life where you’ll never be overlooked again.”

Agni coughed, murmuring, “My prince, perhaps we should learn more about them first?” Soma waved him off, his focus unwavering. “Will you let me court you? I promise to make you smile every day.”

His impulsive vow hung in the air—a prince’s heart set on making you his own.