Albela Sajan !exclusive! -

She should have called the guards. Instead, she raised her arms.

His name was Ayaan, a traveling folk singer from the deserts of Rajasthan. He had no money, no status, and no sense of rhythm—at least, not the kind Leela understood. He crashed the royal court one evening, drunk on bhang and the moonlight, and sat in the corner with his kamaicha .

In the haveli of Patiala, they called her the Ice Queen . Leela, the court’s finest Kathak dancer, moved with mathematical precision. Her ghungroos never missed a beat. Her eyes never met the audience. She danced for the gods alone, cold and untouchable. Albela Sajan

She didn't listen. She avoided the courtyard where he slept. She covered her ears when his voice drifted through the kitchen windows. She told herself she hated chaos.

But before the guards could move, Ayaan began to sing. She should have called the guards

But chaos, as it turns out, was patient.

"One… two… three…" she whispered.

The court scoffed. The Maharaja waved a hand to have him removed.