Meanwhile, in Anga, celebrations were in full swing. The newborn had brought in new hope for their kingdom. Now the need to find and kill Mukund had been muted by joy; the farmers celebrated the season as if it was a bountiful harvest.

Avanti was still grieving her lover, feeling as though a part of her had been torn away and lost forever, like a bird with a broken wing unable to soar. Her father kept banging on her door; a drumbeat, relentless and unyielding. When she opened it hesitatingly, he barged into her room, a fierce wind, disturbing the stillness.

"There is a boy from the east, he has agreed to marry you," he announced.

"Appa, you do not understand. He was innocent."

"Quiet child. If anyone finds out you knew Prince Mukund, you will be hurled with stones and sticks every time you leave the house. That murderer has no place here," her father warned.

"You met him! You fed him! You still think he murdered his own family?" she yelled through the tears, like a thunderstorm lashing out at the earth.

Her father hesitated a moment but continued.

"It does not matter what I think. The crown believes it, and we are a part of it," he concluded.

Avanti lay in her defeated position weeping, dressed in her finest silk saree, waiting for the prospective groom to arrive.

The sound of footsteps alerted her to the arrival of a young man dressed in a simple white kurta and dhoti.

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"I am Keshav," he said, bowing his head in greeting.

Avanti nodded but didn't smile. She had no intention of pretending to be interested in this meeting.

They sat across from each other at a wooden table, decorated with plates of sweets and fruit. Avanti picked at the food, barely tasting it.

"So, Avanti, your father tells me you are a skilled musician," Keshav said, attempting to make conversation. Those words took her to a time when music had brought her joy instead of pain. She remembered playing the veena for Prince Mukund, the way he had leaned in close to listen, the way his eyes had glinted with appreciation.

Avanti shrugged. "It's a hobby."

"I myself enjoy music. Perhaps you could play something for me later?"

Avanti shook her head. "I don't think so."

The conversation stalled, and Avanti felt like she was suffocating. She glanced up at Keshav, and something about his expression caught her attention. His eyes seemed to be searching hers, looking for something.

"Why are you really here?" she blurted out, unable to contain her suspicion any longer.

Keshav hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward. "I'm sorry, Avanti. I didn't want to deceive you, but I had no choice. I was sent here by the king's advisor to gather information about your family's involvement with Prince Mukund's case."

"What will you do with the information?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't know yet. But I promise you, Avanti, I won't hurt you or your family. I only took this job because I needed the money."

"I won't tell you anything," she said firmly.

"But sometimes the truth has a way of revealing itself", Keshav was warning her that the truth would eventually emerge, no matter how hard she tried to bury it.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, trying to sound convincing.

Keshav's expression softened. "I'm not trying to threaten you, Avanti. I just want to help. If there's anything you need, anything at all, you can come to me."

And with that, he stood up, his broad frame casting a shadow over Avanti.

"I should be going," Keshav said, his voice tinged with regret.

"Remember, your secret is safe with me", and the door closed behind him.