Aryavardhan let out a soft laugh. "Princess Megha, this horse is a vessel of the Wind God, Vayudeva himself. His name is Sugriva, and he answers to no one unless he chooses to. Tell me—do you wish to ride him?"
When Megha nodded, her eyes bright with wonder, Aryavardhan mounted the great beast first. He reached down, offering a steady hand to help her up behind him. Once she was settled, he closed his eyes and placed a palm gently against the horse’s mane, whispering a silent prayer to Vayudeva. In an instant, Sugriva unfurled massive, shimmering wings and surged into the sky.
The ascent was breathtaking. Within heartbeats, they were hundreds of feet above the earth. Megha peered over the side, gasping as her kingdom, Varunaprastha, shrank until it looked like a child’s toy.
As Sugriva climbed higher, the air grew crisp and cool. Aryavardhan eventually gave the horse a gentle pat, signaling him to halt. They hovered there, suspended in a sea of white mist. Through the gaps in the clouds, the vast ocean stretched out infinitely, cradling the tiny, distant speck of her home.
"Princess," Aryavardhan asked, turning slightly to catch her expression, "have you ever experienced anything like this?"
The wonder in Megha's eyes suddenly vanished, replaced by a heavy, somber shadow. She didn't speak. Instead, she pointed silently toward a small, emerald island far below. Sensing her change in mood, Aryavardhan signaled Sugriva. In a blur of motion, the horse dove, carrying them down to a hidden spring on the island’s surface.
The Reflection in the Stream
The island was a paradise. A waterfall tumbled into a crystal-clear pool, surrounded by vibrant wildflowers and the melodic chatter of tropical birds. Yet, the beauty couldn't mask Megha's inner turmoil. She slid off the horse and walked to the water’s edge, sitting solitary on the mossy bank.
Aryavardhan dismounted and followed her. As his boots touched the earth, the very air seemed to pulse with a new energy—the wind picked up, and the birdsong grew louder, as if the island itself was acknowledging his presence.
He stood beside her, watching their twin reflections ripple in the lake's surface. Megha reached out, her finger tracing the outline of his reflection in the water.
"Your Majesty," she whispered, her voice trembling, "I must apologize for my mistake. Can you ever forgive me?"
Aryavardhan looked down at her image in the water. There was a look of profound sorrow on her face, an expression he couldn’t quite decipher. Confused by her formal tone and the weight of her words, he asked softly, "Princess Megha, what could you possibly have done that requires my forgiveness?"
"I was in love with a young man some time ago," Megha stated while gazing blankly at the sky. The young man assured me that he would marry me upon his return when we met for the final time on this island. I waited for him, but he never returned. I've given up on his coming back now.
"A woman's master is the only guy she can love in her life. I made the error of falling in love with someone else instead of you. Please accept my apologies for this error. I swear that going forward, I will never gaze at another man.
