In the blink of an eye, 300 long years had passed. The enchanted sleep of the palace had finally ended. King Kairen, standing at 6.7 feet, had awakened from his long slumber. As he rose, a tremor of ancient power spread along the walls of the palace.
It was late at night. Under the hidden waterfall behind the palace, Nikita was bathing. The petals of blue cherry blossoms mixed with the water, creating an ethereal fragrance. She thought to herself that now that Kairen had awakened after 300 years, the balance of power in the palace would once again change.
As Nikita washed her wings under the cascading water, she suddenly felt someone watching her. She looked up and saw Aryan perched on a tall branch of an ancient tree beside the waterfall.
Aryan now stood as a mysterious emperor at 6.4 feet. Dressed in black silk, his wet hair fell across his forehead. One leg dangling from the branch, he played with a blue cherry blossom in his hand, staring intently at Nikita.
Nikita: (submerging herself in the water, embarrassed) "Aryan! You've come here too? Kairen Maharaj just woke up today. If he sees you here, what will happen?"
Aryan climbed down from the tree with the grace of a predator. He knelt at the edge of the waterfall.
Aryan: (calm but solemnly) "I know Maharaj has awakened. But for 300 years, I have protected you every night. Just because he has risen, should I give up my right? Kairen Maharaj may have regained his throne, but I claimed you 200 years ago."
As Nikita tried to step out of the water, Aryan spread his long royal cloak to cover her.
Aryan: "Come, Nikita. Kairen is busy with his throne and his power. But the right to shield your wet hair and body is still mine."
Nikita slipped inside Aryan's cloak. His familiar coldness enveloped her once again. But at that exact moment, a large shadow fell over the balcony above the waterfall.
King Kairen, standing 6.7 feet tall, gazed down. His eyes burned like fire as he saw his queen standing intimately beneath Aryan's cloak.
King Kairen: (thunderous voice) "Aryan! I made you the guardian of my queen 300 years ago. And now I see you dreaming of being a king yourself? Remove that cloak from my queen at once!"
Aryan did not falter. Instead, he held Nikita closer with the cloak. The boy of 19 from 300 years ago had now become one of history's most powerful vampires. Despite Kairen's thunderous roar, Aryan's calm expression remained, though his blue eyes gleamed with cunning determination.
Aryan lightly kissed Nikita's forehead—right before Kairen's eyes—and then looked up at the balcony.
Aryan: (smirking slightly) "Sorry, Maharaj! Perhaps your awakening has been a bit delayed. 300 years is a long time. In these years, both the river's current and the queen's heart have changed."
Kairen, shaking with rage, leapt down from the balcony. His six massive white wings stirred up clouds of dust. Standing before Aryan, the 6.7-foot Kairen faced the 6.4-foot Aryan—two titans ready to clash.
King Kairen: "Such audacity, Aryan! You touch my queen? Have you forgotten who granted you the gift of becoming a vampire?"
Aryan: "I have not forgotten, Maharaj. But gratitude does not mean servitude. You slept for 300 years, while I wiped her tears and kept her company in reality. When you were in the realm of dreams, I lived life with her."
Nikita stood between them, extending her hands. She knew a clash between these two forces could destroy the palace.
Nikita: "Stop! Kairen, you just woke up—rest your body. And Aryan… calm yourself!"
Aryan took Nikita's hand in his and extended it toward Kairen.
Aryan: "Maharaj, you may reclaim your throne, but to reclaim Nikita, you will have to fight me. And remember, this time I will not obey your commands. Because 300 years ago, Nikita became my secret queen on this very shore!"
Kairen froze, eyes wide, staring at Nikita.
Kairen: "Secret queen? Nikita, what is he saying?"
Nikita, smiling naturally, held Kairen's hand:
Nikita: "Maharaj, you've slept for 300 years, so these modern jokes may be confusing. Aryan is as mischievous as ever. He just plays these 'queen-queen' games to make me laugh!"
Aryan glanced at her, a trace of pride in his eyes. He had indeed spoken the truth, but understanding Nikita's signal, he suppressed his desire.
Aryan: (bowing slightly) "Yes, Maharaj… I talk more only because I'm three inches shorter! No offense. I'll go check the cherry juice now."
Aryan quickly disappeared into the shadows.
Nikita approached Kairen, placing her hand on his massive 6.7-foot frame and softly touching his chin with affection.
Nikita: "My king… seeing your face after so long! Only I know how much I've missed you these 300 years. Forget Aryan's childish mischief. Tonight is just about you and me."
Kairen exhaled deeply, all his anger dissolving in her warmth. He enveloped Nikita in the heat of his six wings.
King Kairen: "I've missed you too, Nikita. Perhaps your love awakened me today."
Nikita rested her head on Kairen's chest but her thoughts drifted to the cherry tree in the garden, where Aryan may still be lingering. She realized she now walked between two worlds—her lawful husband, Kairen, and her secret lover, Aryan.
Within months of Kairen's awakening, joyous news spread through the palace—Nikita was expecting. Time passed, and her belly grew large. She moved carefully, adorned in flowing gowns that accentuated her maternal grace.
One evening, Nikita walked through the palace corridor, her attendants cautiously following her. Aryan appeared swiftly from the garden. Seeing her, he paused. After 300 years, she looked so different. Aryan's eyes reflected both sorrow and tenderness.
Aryan: (motioning to the attendants) "Step back. I'll take the queen to the garden."
The attendants, intimidated by Aryan's 6.4-foot frame and commanding presence, bowed and retreated. Aryan gently took Nikita's hand.
Aryan: "Are you in pain? Your body feels heavy, doesn't it?"
Nikita: "Yes, Aryan. Walking is a little hard, but it brings an unusual joy. When this child comes into the world…"
Aryan stared at her belly, questioning silently—whose child was growing within? Kairen's? Or a hidden trace of their 300-year-old love? He reached toward her belly but stopped mid-way.
Aryan: "Nikita, will this child have my blue eyes, or Kairen's wings?"
Nikita smiled and placed his hand over her belly:
Nikita: "Whoever they resemble, Aryan, you will be closest to them. You will be their protector."
From the balcony, 6.7-foot Kairen watched Aryan touching her pregnant belly. Concern furrowed his brow.
As Kairen left the balcony, Aryan seized the moment and guided Nikita to sit on the old bench under the blue cherry tree. Silence enveloped them.
Aryan knelt before her, gazing at her eyes and speaking softly:
Aryan: "Nikita, may I ask a truth? 300 years ago, when Kairen slept… you were only mine. Is the life growing inside you truly Kairen's, or a trace of our secret love?"
Nikita stroked Aryan's hair:
Nikita: "Aryan… do you want it to be yours?"
Aryan: "I want them to be like me. Eyes blue like mine, so that when they grow, the palace knows who truly held your heart. Kairen may raise them as his own, but their veins must carry my rebellious blood."
Nikita held Aryan's face between her hands:
Nikita: "It doesn't matter whose child it is. What matters is they inherit the strength of both you and Kairen. You will not just protect them, Aryan—you will be their true guide."
Aryan pressed his head to her belly:
Aryan: "Whether prince or princess, remember, your big father will protect them from the world."
Nikita laughed, though she did not yet know the child's features. If the child has blue eyes, how will Kairen respond?
The palace was tense. King Kairen paced on the balcony, wings trembling. Below, Aryan stood like a stone statue, ancient sword in hand.
Suddenly, cries echoed from inside. Dima rushed in—breathless. Nikita had given birth to three children: one girl, two boys.
Kairen and Aryan both rushed in. Nikita lay exhausted, the tiny pulses of life beside her.
The mysterious three:
First Son (Kairen's Reflection): A spitting image of Kairen. Fair-skinned with small wings on his back. Kairen cradled him proudly.
Daughter (Nikita's Reflection): Just like Nikita, with four small blue wings. Aryan cherished her from childhood, teaching her vampire-like agility and swordplay.
Youngest Son (Aryan's Secret): No wings, but deep blue eyes like Aryan's. His skin had the cold touch of a vampire. Aryan held him, joy and triumph in his gaze.
Kairen, staring at the youngest son, was speechless.
Kairen: "Nikita… why does this child have Aryan's eyes? And why no wings?"
Nikita, smiling tiredly: "Maharaj, I told you Aryan is my shadow. This child is the union of all our powers—your dignity and Aryan's courage."
Zain (6.6 feet), watching from the corner, whispered to Aryan:
Zain: "Congratulations, brother! You've brought home the fruit of your secret union 300 years ago. The child will grow to be more romantic and stubborn than you. Kairen may have been pacified, but raising the child will be your responsibility."
Aryan could not suppress his smile. He hugged the youngest tightly. The baby instinctively clutched his finger.
Nikita, lying in the royal bed, watched the scene. She knew Zain had understood the truth but kept it secret out of love for Aryan.
Nikita: "Aryan, name the middle child."
Aryan gazed at the youngest with deep emotion:
Aryan: "His name will be Aryan. He will be the secret prince of this palace. No wings, yet he will soar in everyone's hearts."
Time flew. 20 years passed. The three children became the palace's pride. Watching them grow and develop wings was a sight to behold.
Eldest Son: Arv (6.6 ft): Mirror of Kairen. Six large white wings. Courageous and solemn. Trained to be the next heir. Fears Aryan's son Aryan, who is faster despite having no wings.
Eldest Daughter: Aria (5.9 ft): Nikita's reflection. Four bright blue wings. Beloved by Aryan, trained in swordplay and vampire agility. When flying, her wings resemble blue cherry petals drifting.
Youngest Son: Aryan (6.5 ft): Blue-eyed like Aryan. No wings, but with vampire powers and irresistible gaze. Raised in Aryan's shadow, admired by palace maidens.
One night, on the palace roof, Aria and Aryan were talking.
Aria: "Brother, why do father (Kairen) and Uncle Aryan always seem to have a hidden battle? Especially when looking at you?"
Aryan: (eyes sparkling) "Perhaps father knows vampires without wings are more mysterious. Aria, do you know the secret story of mother and Uncle Aryan from 300 years ago?"
At that moment, Aryan (6.4 ft) appeared behind them with a glass of blue cherry juice:
Aryan: "Want to hear the story, Aryan? Then come, I'll take you under the blue cherry tree, where your mother and I hid the greatest secret of our lives."
Before Aryan could tell the 300-year-old secret, Nikita appeared, holding a huge stick! Her maternal gentleness was gone—she now radiated warrior authority.
Nikita stomped down the corridor, the stick clattering on the floor:
Nikita: "Aryan! Your courage hasn't faded! Grabbing my children's heads? And you three—Arv, Aria, and Aryan—don't you have studies? What story is going on here at night?"
Aryan, even at 6.4 ft, gulped at the sight of Nikita's stick. He quickly moved away from the children.
Aryan: "Nikita, I was just teaching them history… from 300 years ago!"
Nikita: "No history! I've heard enough. Aryan, if you speak one more word, I'll straighten out the scratches on your back with this stick!"
The three children, seeing their mother's anger, huddled together. Especially 6.5-ft Aryan, once mischievous, now crouched like a kitten.
Arv: "Mother, we were only—"
Nikita: "Silence! Arv, go to father to learn swordsmanship. Aria, inside you go. And Aryan… you're just like your Uncle Aryan, full of tricks!"
She glared at Aryan. He knew the secret would not be revealed today. Nikita raised her stick, guiding the three children indoors.
As she walked away, Aryan signaled young Aryan—"later." Nikita's mock throw of the stick at Aryan prompted him to leap down into the garden.
Nikita leaned on the royal couch. After childbirth and pregnancy, she now radiated queenly majesty. Two attendants fanned her with giant peacock feathers. The scent of blue cherry blossoms wafted through the windows.
The three children, seeing her stick, returned to their mother in affection. Arv knelt, kissing her hand in respect; Aria nestled on her shoulder; and Aryan shyly held her hand, kissing her palm.
Aryan smiled mysteriously at young Aryan from the doorway. Aryan watched everything from the shadows, eyes glistening with tears, lips curved in a satisfied smile. Even with her rule, Nikita's love for the children had not diminished.