I love you all! Truly, I do but I swear, all the "update soon"s are driving me crazy, mainly because I would love to update frequently but I cannot. Being a university graduate about to join work soon, I have a lot to do. To balance it out, I tend to watch Tv shows, mainly GoT and Friends. Any fans here?

Okay, back to the topic. Writing relaxes a lot of people but I find it a little draining. Plus, once I start writing, I can think of nothing else. I almost get obsessed with the story, which is bad when you have stuff to do. Hopefully you can understand the fact that I can't write as often as I wish to.

Thanks a lot for the reviews, follows and favorites. Also, note that Neal Mazur is based on Neal Caffrey from White Collar ;) Kudos to the one to guessed it :p

Enjoy the chapter :)


Traasa

"State your name," a hard voice commanded.

Gregory swallowed nervously before answering, "Gregory, sir. Gregory Hamsak."

The man. sitting behind a desk in one of the many tents erected in the clearing of Dhenu forest. nodded and wrote down something. Looking up, he scrutinized Gregory carefully.

"You'll be no good in combat," he commented.

Gregory felt indignation well up within him. All his life, he'd dreamed about fighting for his country, had practiced dueling techniques for hours. And now he was being told that he wouldn't be good in combat?

"There's no need for anger, soldier." The man behind the desk said strictly "If not fighting, you'll be useful somewhere else."

"I want to fight for Russovia," Gregory stated, mustering his courage.

"You will be," the man assured him with a twisted smile. "That's what traasa is all about. Everyone does their bit. No work is lesser than the other."

Gregory nodded, feeling ashamed of himself.

"I think you can go into training to be a spy," the man said, eyeing Gregory speculatively.

"Yes, sir! Anything." Gregory replied promptly.

"We do need spies in the royal palace," the man continued. "God knows we lack them. We need spies even in Loha, what with that wretched king about to marry the Lohan princess."

"Won't the marriage strengthen those tyrant royals even more, sir?"

"Yes," the man smiled slightly. "Our leaders are already looking into it. They'll decide what to do with the king and the Lohan princess."


Rose...

"Lolita, bring in that scented perfume!"

"Where did you put Her Majesty's shoes? She needs them!"

"Is this gown okay, princess?"

"Hush, Megha. The princess will look better in a saree."

It was late afternoon but I was already done with the day.

I sat on a stool in front of my dressing table, listening to the maids' chatter around me. They were rather excited, to say the least. It was with unbounded enthusiasm that they were trying to get me ready to meet the Belikovs.

Unfortunately, the excitement wasn't restricted to the maids.

My family seemed to have caught the tizzy too.

My mother was supervising the maids, looking harried and increasingly ticked off. Lissa was arguing with the royal hair-stylist about my hairdo for the evening. Due to my mother's insistence, Madhri was here too, primping herself in the corner. Eddie was on the phone with the royal decorator, pausing every second to consult my mother. Neal and Dad were at the Palace, overseeing the arrangements made for the Belikovs.

Everyone had work to do, everyone except me.

I was bored, frustrated and exasperated. So much preparation to greet my future husband? The way I saw it, I shouldn't have to get ready. I should be allowed to stay in my usual attire. He shouldn't mind seeing me at my worst, right?

Besides, sitting idle had never been my cup of tea.

As though reading my mind, or perhaps just noting my expression, Lissa convinced Mom to let me leave the room for fifteen minutes.

Resisting the urge to whoop with joy and run out of the room, I stood up to hurry out of the room when Sydney - my personal assistant of sorts - entered with a worried expression on her face.

"Your Majesty?" She approached Mom warily, knowing that whatever news she had to deliver wouldn't be received well. "There's been a slight change in schedule."

"What do you mean?" Mom asked, frowning.

"Well," Sydney shot me a look. "The Belikovs have left for Loha already. They should be here in about four hours."

"What?" Mom's face tightened in frustration. "We're not ready yet! Why did they change the time?"

Sydney had no answer.

Under my mother's direction, the maids hastened to finish their chores, chattering excitedly. Eddie looked stressed, leaving the room to inform Dad. Lissa returned to her discussion with the hair stylist and Sydney, after giving me a small smile, took off to fetch the sari I was supposed to wear. Totally fed up, I walked towards the door briskly but stopped when my mother called out to me, "You must be back in half an hour, Rose."

"Yes, Ma'am." I saluted her mockingly, leaving the room before she could say anything else.

One month. One entire month had passed since Dad had announced the news of my betrothal.

One month of madness, fear and grudging acceptance.

For the last month, Dad had been teaching me about Russovia. I'd even been assigned the herculean task of learning the Russovian language, Raega. I hadn't put up a fight though. It was better to be prepared, in case the betrothal held and I ended up in Russovia. But I was against this drama of getting dressed up and faking happiness to see the Belikovs.

My mother wanted to present a picture perfect princess, complete with fake smiles and lowered eyes. But that wasn't who I was. Why did I have to pretend? Wasn't it cheating to give them a wrong impression?

They should be allowed to see me the way I was. If they didn't like what they saw, they should break the betrothal.

In fact, I'd have to do my damn best to show them the real Rose Mazur.

If he didn't like it, too bad.

With that cheerful thought, I finally looked around to see where my feet had carried me.

I was at the stables.

Oh, well. A ride with my beloved horse should do me some good.

"Aruna?" I called, approaching my horse with some apples she loved. "Come on, love. We're going on a ride."

The word, Aruna, translated to "sunrise". Dad had chosen to name her so because of her rich golden brown coat.

Snorting happily, she ate her apples, allowing me to lead her out. Climbing up, I gently guided her on a trot, passing the green pasture fields next to the stables.

With the wind whipping on my face as Aruna sped up, I grinned involuntarily, reveling in the freedom that came with riding a horse or a bike, the latter being something I'd tried only once before.

We rode for a while before Aruna stopped at the banks of river Treva which cut through the north-western part of Palace grounds. I lay on the grass as Aruna sipped the water, not having the heart to ever get up.

The soft lull of the river and the cool breeze made me drowsy. Lazily, I decided that a nap wasn't going to destroy the world.

The next thing I knew was the light of the setting sun on my face.

Setting sun?

Shit!

The Belikovs must have already arrived.

I was in so much trouble.

It was as if Mother Nature was plotting against me. First she made me sleepy, now she'd decided to unleash fiery winds to slow me down.

It'd been a windy day, yes, but the force seemed to have increased with the setting of the sun. Powerful windstorms carrying dry leaves and debris swept across the palace grounds, causing Aruna to squirm and shake her head rapidly, trying to clear her eyes. The dust in the wind must be from the sand pits used for sparring in the training center located nearby.

Aruna wasn't the only one irritated, though.

My hair, which I'd left free, danced in the wind, blowing over my face and covering my eyes. Brushing it away impatiently, I tried to steady my horse before she decided to unseat me. When she continued to trample around, I braced myself and jumped down to the ground beside her. With a fair bit of struggle, I held her still, running a hand along her mane to soothe her. Responding to me, Aruna calmed down and allowed me to blow dust from her eyes.

I had to lead her back to the stables. She couldn't stay out here.

As I walked forward with Aruna, dust started to settle gently, revealing a tall, dark figure few feet ahead of me.

Who'd be out here at this time?

The leaves fell down slowly, some of them settling on the stranger's shoulder length, dark brown hair. Some of that silky hair fell forward into his face. It was brushed back by long, graceful fingers. The face was handsome and chiseled, a hidden softness in those hard planes. With magnetic dark brown eyes and a body to put any Greek god to shame, this man before me radiated power.

Energy.

Royalty.

He stood a small step towards me, his walk graceful. His form fitting suit outlined a lean frame made of hard muscles, like a sleek and lean panther.

Sharp, dark eyes assessed me as I assessed him.

It was impossible not to recognize this stranger in front of me, this hot stranger, even if I'd last seen him when he was nine. His eyes were still the same.

It was Dimitri Belikov, King of Russovia...my betrothed.


Dimitri..

"Mitya, brush your hair. It looks messy." My mother stated as she took in my appearance critically.

Suppressing the urge to sigh in defeat, I did as I was asked. She'd already insisted on straightening my suit and redoing the tie. As for brushing my hair - she'd already told me off four times for its messy state.

If my mother would have her way, my hair would never be so long. She'd never understood why I maintained my hair at shoulder length.

For me, the reason was simple enough. I'd dedicated my whole life to my duties, neglecting everything else in pursuit of being a good king. Everything I did was for my country, for my people. For their welfare.

What then was my identity?

Was it limited to being an emperor of an sovereign nation?

Often, I acted like it was. For me, nothing existed but my people.

But as my grandmother would remind me ever so often, I'd been someone before becoming a king.

A person who loved to read westerns, play an occasional game of pool and wanted to spend time with his family, with their welfare and comfort in mind.

I didn't want to lose sight of the man I was before becoming a king. Maintaining my hair at shoulder length, a rarity in the world of royals, reminded me that I was not just a king but also my own person.

"Mitya! Are you listening to me?" The annoyed voice of my younger sister, Viktoria, chimed through the plane.

"I'm sorry, anuja. You were saying?" Using the ancient raegan term for sister, anuja, was something Viktoria insisted on. But I'd never use the term save for the situations where I was trying to appease her.

"I was saying-" Viktoria said with exaggerated irritation. "-that I've heard so much about Loha and about Rose."

"Loha is a great country," I replied evasively, eyes fixed on my nephew, Paul, who'd insisted on accompanying us. It was he, my astute ten year old nephew who caught my deliberate slip-up.

"Princess Rose is great!" he said, with a note of finality in his voice.

Sensing our surprise, he elaborated, "When Mama said that Princess Rose would be my new aunt, I looked her up on Google."

"I did too," Viktoria confessed sheepishly.

"I trust you're happy with what you found?" Mama said with a knowing smile.

She received eager nods as replies.

"That may be-" I was interrupted by the pilot who announced that our jet would be landing in Devagiri, the Lohan capital city, in five minutes.

"I hope our early arrival doesn't offend them," Mama said, leaning back on her seat.

"We did inform them," I replied, distracted by Ivan's message. I'd strictly told him to send me updates ever hour.

I put my phone away when we landed, curious to see Loha. I'd met King Abe many times before and Neal Mazur was someone I considered a close friend, having spent a lot of time training with him. But I'd never before had the opportunity to visit their country.

Stepping out of the plane, my first impression of Loha was of a hill station with cool breeze and warm sun whose rays almost seemed caressing.

"It's beautiful," Viktoria whispered in awe.

"I'm glad you think so, My Lady." came a mischievous voice from behind the line of Lohan ministers who'd assembled to greet us.

As if on cue, the ministers parted to reveal someone I was very familiar with.

"Neal."

With a smile that could never loose its troublemaker edge, Neal Mazur strode towards us.

"Dimitri Belikov," he said, clasping my hand in a firm handshake. "I can't believe that you're really here, in Loha."

"You and me both," I said, smiling despite myself. There was always an aura around Neal that made you instantly comfortable, at ease. "Neal, meet my mother. Olena Belikova."

As Neal greeted my family, an elderly woman who I knew to be the Health Minister of Loha, welcomed me formally with a garland of flowers, as the Lohan tradition dictated.

After a round of greeting the ministers, including the Russovian ambassador to Loha - Yuri, we were led to a couple of limousines flanked by the Lohan Guard.

"Prince Mazur," Yuri called as Neal opened the door for Viktoria. "Don't you think King Belikov should take a chopper to the Palace?"

Neal grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Excellent suggestion, Yuri. Perhaps you can lead His Majesty into one?"

Yuri bowed and beckoned me over to the Lohan Air Force chopper that stood a little distance away. "Trust me, Your Majesty. Devagiri looks spectacular from the helicopter."

"I have no objections, Yuri." I climbed onto the chopper, watching the limousines drive away with my family. Nakul, the Lohan minister of Aviation joined us.

As the chopper ascended, I was glad to have heeded Yuri's words. Devagiri indeed looked heavenly from above. With lush greenery integrated so well into the city landscape, it was a place where man was truly at peace with nature.

"It looks beautiful, doesn't it?" Nakul smiled, noticing my fascination.

"Indeed." I replied, not taking my eyes off the sight below.

"Our princess loves the view too." Nakul stated as the Yuri grinned and nodded. "She insists on using the chopper almost all the time."

I nodded, smiling politely as the both of chuckled fondly.

It would be a lie if I said I hadn't speculated about my betrothed. I remembered the little girl I'd met ages ago. I liked her then, her company had gotten me through the otherwise dreadful evening. But of course, we'd been kids then. She could be nothing like the girl I'd known that day.

Tempted as I was to picture her as a female version of Neal Mazur, I knew enough to say that it wouldn't be an accurate portrayal of Rose. I'd heard about her, of course. Mostly in context of her beauty. Men swore they'd never seen anyone more beautiful, or more irresistible. Her rumored scorn for royal men was also a discussed topic. None of this mattered as much as the other thing Rose Mazur was well known for.

Her fiery personality.

As Ivan had said, she was nicknamed 'The Firecracker' among royals who'd never before encountered a royal female who spoke her mind. While I was all for female empowerment, I wasn't really sure if Rose Mazur was what an empress of Russovia should be.

Be that as it may, there was no denying the fact that Rose was well loved by her ministers. The occasional Lohan newspaper I'd seen in the past month usually featured Rose involved in activities of public interest. Lohans seemed to admire her greatly, a fact that almost came as a relief to me. For, the measure of a ruler is the amount of love he receives from his subjects.

"We're here," Nakul announced as the chopper descended.

"We're at the Palace grounds, Your Majesty." Yuri told me as we got down. "Come this way. His Majesty, Ibrahim Mazur is waiting for you."

The majestic golden Palace loomed over the grounds, quite close to the landing pad. King Ibrahim Mazur stood waiting with an entourage at the entrance.

An entourage that didn't seem to include his daughter.

Was it Lohan tradition for women to not greet their betrothed? I didn't think so.

"Dimitri," Abe said, with a smile that was as genuine as Abe Mazur's smile could ever be. "How are you, my boy?"

"I'm fine, Abe." I shook his extended hand. "How are you?"

"Good, good." He turned to the red haired woman at his right, who was undoubtedly Queen Janine. I'd never met her before but like her daughter, she had quite a reputation. "This is my wife, Janine Mazur."

"How do you do?" The grip with which she shook my hand confirmed everything I'd heard about her. It was as hard as her expression.

"I'm sorry for my daughter's absence, Your Majesty." Janine's apology, while sincere, couldn't hide her irritation. "She'll meet you later."

Before I could question her, Abe steered me away.

"You know Eddie, of course?"

Edison Castile. The only son of a runaway father, he'd been brought up by his mother's family. I'd met him briefly on several occasions.

"How are you, Lord Castile?"

He nodded, his demeanor that of a seasoned warrior. "I'm doing well, Your Majesty. I trust your family is on the way?"

"Yes," I replied, shaking his hand as well. "I was advised to take a chopper while Neal accompanied my family."

Eddie and Abe exchanged a smile.

"Did you like the view?" Abe asked slyly.

"Of course," I told him truthfully. "I regret not having visited Loha sooner."

Abe let out a laugh. "Of course you do. Come now, we have much to discuss. Neal will lead your family inside when they arrive"

"I hope you're not too tired, Your Grace." Eddie said as we walked inside. "Is it too soon for the meeting?"

"I'd rather have a meeting now to discuss the agenda," I told him frankly.

Abe nodded approvingly. "Work first as always, Belikov?"

"You know how it is," I said as my eyes took in the magnificent architectural of the Palace.

"Neal will show you around the Palace after the meeting," Eddie said, noting my appreciation of the Palace.

Show me around, he did. After the meeting which stretched to two hours, Neal pulled me away from Abe and Eddie to give me a tour of the Palace. Always the art expert, Neal described everything with a fondness that was contagious. Having just covered the ground floor in an hour, Neal insisted on showing me the Army training Center before dark.

"I can show you the upper floors tomorrow," Neal said as we walked across the grounds to the Army Center. "Now that you're staying here for two weeks, you can explore any day. For now, let me show off the training facilities."

"It's not going to impress me," I said, teasing him.

"You say that now," Neal replied with a grin. "Just wait until you see it."

"Don't hold your breath," I cautioned. "Besides, since when do you show off training centers? It's always been paintings and sculptures with you."

"It still is," Neal admitted. "Warfare bores me, unlike you."

"That is indeed true," I said with a grin as we took a right turn. "Remember the time in Jashna training camp when you were so impressed by that goblet Sergei was drinking from?"

"What can I say? Sergei's country is known for it's handicraft. I could-"

Neal was interrupted by his phone.

"You still have that as your ringtone?"

Neal shot me a look as he picked up the call. But as he spoke, a vexed expression marred his usually cheerful attitude.

He exhaled as he ended the call, looking at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, Dimitri. Mother wants me to meet her immediately."

"It's okay." It'd been great to talk to him after so long. Since childhood, we'd attended a lot of training camps together. Before my father's death. After my coronation, I no longer had the luxury of attending training camps, thereby losing contact with Neal. "You go on. I'll come back in a while."

"Don't wander off," Neal joked.

"That's all you, Neal."

Chuckling, Neal walked back to the Palace. I walked slowly, savoring the fresh air. A small stroll was what I needed after the travel.

I tried to clear my mind as I walked but it was proving to be a difficult task. My thoughts spun in all directions, much like the wind which seemed to have gotten stronger in a few minutes, gathering up dead leaves and blowing them across the ground.

It would be prudent to head indoor. But as I turned around to walk back to the Palace, I heard the sound of hooves behind me.

Instinctively, I turned around, catching sight of a horse coming my way, with a rider on its back. Due to the dusty wind, I couldn't make out the face of the rider.

It was most probably a guard.

As I watched, the horse bucked, irritated by the wind. It shook its head many times, probably trying to clear its eyes. The rider dismounted and approached the animal, in an attempt to soothe it

I walked closer to see if I could be of some assistance.

As I approached, I noticed that the rider was female, which was quite shocking. I didn't know a single lady who'd liked to ride a horse. Viktoria, the most boyish girl I knew, was terrified of my stallion.

This lady before me however didn't seem to be scared at all. Who was she? A maid? But no maid would take a horse on a ride...

As I came closer, I could see that she was dressed in jeans and T-shirt, with thigh high boots. She had a slender frame and her long, dark hair was flying around around in the wind. She successfully calmed her horse before I reached them, patting the horse gently and stroking its mane. From her actions, it was clear that she loved her horse and had some experience with horses.

As she turned towards me, the wind faded slightly, allowing me to see her clearly.

The first thought that entered my mind was that she was gorgeous.

Her wind-blown hair was a very dark shade of brown, almost black. It was wavy and shiny, framing her perfect face. Her dark eyes flashed as she took me in.

Well defined eyebrows, pink lips and high cheekbones coupled with unblemished tanned skin gave her an exotic appearance.

She was any man's dream, with her perfect face and flashing eyes.

It was the dark eyes that identified her to me.

She was Rose Mazur, my betrothed.


AN: You can blame that dramatic meeting scene on Bollywood and it's influence on young minds :p

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