Chapter 3 : The Princess Arrives

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a golden hue across the room. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the soft folds of my outfit—a cream-colored Anarkali kurti with intricate golden embroidery on the neckline and cuffs. The fabric flowed gracefully down to my ankles, paired with slim-fit maroon leggings. I added a maroon dupatta with subtle gold accents, draped loosely over one shoulder. It was traditional yet modern, a perfect balance for college—a far cry from the revealing outfits I had seen in this world.

My hair was open, and I applied a touch of kajal to accentuate my eyes, along with a nude lip balm. I looked confident, composed, and ready to face the world.

Tanishka, or Tanu as I fondly called her, watched me with a mix of awe and concern. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” she asked, fidgeting with her car keys.

I gave her a reassuring smile. “ don't worry tanu .”

We stepped out of the apartment, and Tanu led me to her car, a sleek black sedan . The drive to the college was quiet, her worry evident in the way she gripped the steering wheel. I glanced at her, silently conveying through my eyes that everything would be fine.

The college loomed ahead, a grand architectural marvel that screamed luxury and power. The gates were tall and ornate, with the name St. Regis International College emblazoned in gold letters. The sprawling campus was a blend of modern glass buildings and lush greenery, with students milling about in branded clothes and designer accessories.

As we parked and stepped out of the car, I could feel the weight of curious eyes on us. Tanu held my hand tightly, as if bracing for impact. I gave her a slight nod, silently telling her to trust me.

We walked toward the main entrance, but our path was blocked by a group of boys lounging against the pillars. One of them stepped forward, his smug expression dripping with arrogance.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the scared little mouse,” he sneered, his eyes raking over me. “Did you finally grow a spine, Aaradhya?”

Tanu froze beside me, her grip on my hand tightening. I felt her fear, but I remained calm.

“Say something, mouse!” he taunted, stepping closer.

The crowd around us began to grow, students gathering to watch the spectacle. Some looked on with concern, others with amusement, waiting for the inevitable tears.

He raised his hand, intending to mockingly tap my head. But before he could, I grabbed his wrist mid-air, twisting it with a strength that made him yelp in pain.

The crowd gasped.

With a swift movement, I forced him to his knees, his face contorted in agony. “You should be careful,” I said sweetly, leaning down to his level. “I don’t like it when people touch my hair.”

Another boy lunged at me, but I was faster. My foot connected with his crotch, and he doubled over, his face turning pale. A third boy tried to grab me from behind, but I twisted out of his grip and sent him sprawling with a calculated kick to his chest.

The courtyard fell silent, the only sound being the labored breathing of the three boys at my feet. I stood tall, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off my sleeve.

The crowd erupted into whispers, their awe and shock palpable.

Tanu stared at me, her mouth slightly open. “You… you just…”

“I told you, Tanu,” I  whispered, smirking. “They haven’t met Aaradhyanshi Raghavendra yet.”

We made our way to the canteen, the buzz of my actions following us like a shadow. As we sat down, Tanu finally broke out of her trance. Her eyes were glassy with emotion.

“I’ve never seen Aaradhya fight like that,” she said, her voice trembling.

I hugged her gently, understanding the depth of her emotions. “She didn’t need to, Tanu. But I’m not Aaradhya—I’m Aaradhyanshi. And I’ll fight for both of us.”

As I pulled back, something—or rather someone—caught my eye.

He was sitting at a table across the canteen, laughing with a group of boys. His sharp features, piercing eyes, and commanding presence made him impossible to ignore. My body tensed, and my fists clenched involuntarily.

“What’s wrong?” Tanu asked, following my gaze. “Oh… that’s Vikrant Oberoi. And those are his boys—Rohan, Aryan, and Karan. They’re Fav X.”

But I wasn’t listening. My mind was reeling, my heart pounding with a mix of rage and disbelief. It wasn’t just his presence—it was his face.

“Anshi, are you okay?” Tanu’s voice was laced with worry.

I tore my eyes away from him, my voice low and steady. “He’s the one who killed me.”

Tanu’s eyes widened in shock. “What?”

I pulled her into a quiet corner, away from prying eyes. Taking a deep breath, I told her everything—the betrayal, the generals who turned on me, and the man who delivered the final blow.

“I know it’s not him,” I admitted, my voice shaking. “But he has the same face. The same arrogance. The same cruelty on his face .”

Tanu nodded, her expression a mix of understanding and fear. “We’ll stay away from him, Anshi. We don’t have to cross paths with them.”

I hummed in agreement, but my resolve hardened.

As we walked to our class, I noticed the way everyone stared at me. Aaradhya had always hidden herself, but I was different. My posture, my confidence, my very presence demanded respect.

Tanu leaned in, whispering, “I told everyone you lost some of your memories in an accident. It’s not a lie—Aaradhya really did have an accident before we left for Varanasi.”

I nodded, appreciating her quick thinking.

Suddenly, I felt a gaze on me. Turning, I locked eyes with Vikrant Oberoi. His intense stare was unsettling, but I refused to look away.

He smirked, as if acknowledging my defiance.

I raised an eyebrow, my expression cool and unbothered. If he thought he could intimidate me, he was sorely mistaken.

The classes passed uneventfully, or at least that’s what it seemed on the surface. Beneath the routine lectures and note-taking, I could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on me. Whispers floated through the air like a persistent hum.

“Is that Aaradhya?”

“She looks so different!”

“Did you see how she fought this morning?”

“She’s not the same scared girl anymore.”

I ignored the murmurs, focusing on the lectures. Aaradhya might have been an average student, but I wasn’t. Every concept, every word spoken by the professors was absorbed and stored in my mind. I answered questions with ease, my confidence evident in my tone.

By the time the last class before lunch rolled around, I had become the new talk of the college.

Tanu leaned over, whispering, “You’re making waves, Anshi. Everyone’s talking about you.”

I gave her a small smile. “Let them. I’m not here to blend in.”

The next class was a debate session. The topic was written on the board in bold letters: “Is power more important than compassion in leadership?”

The teacher, a stern-looking woman with sharp glasses and an even sharper voice, explained the rules. “This is a structured debate. Each side will present their arguments, and rebuttals are allowed. Respect your opponent and stick to the topic.”

I smirked. This was my territory. In the royal court, debates were a matter of pride, and I had never lost.

The class settled into their seats, excitement buzzing in the air. As the teacher called for volunteers, I raised my hand without hesitation.

“I’ll argue for compassion,” I said confidently.

The teacher nodded, scanning the room. Before anyone else could volunteer, the door creaked open.

Vikrant Oberoi walked in.

He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t even glance at the teacher. His presence alone silenced the room. The air grew tense, but I remained calm, my gaze unwavering.

“Mr. Oberoi,” the teacher said, her tone sharp. “You’re late.”

He smirked, his hands in his pockets. “Apologies, ma’am. I had… important matters to attend to.”

Without waiting for a response, he strode to the front of the class, his eyes locking onto mine.

“I’ll argue for power,” he announced, his voice dripping with arrogance.

The room erupted into murmurs again.

“Vikrant Oberoi and Aaradhya? This is going to be good.”

“She’s going to get crushed.”

“Does she even stand a chance?”

I straightened my back, meeting his gaze head-on. If he thought I was intimidated, he was mistaken.

The debate began.

Vikrant started, his voice smooth and commanding. “Power is the foundation of leadership. Without it, compassion is meaningless. A leader must first establish control, ensure order, and only then can they afford to be compassionate. History is proof—empires were built on strength, not kindness.”

His words were met with nods of agreement from the class.

I stood, my tone calm but firm. “Power without compassion breeds tyranny. A true leader understands that strength lies in earning the trust and respect of their people, not ruling through fear. Empires built on power alone crumble, but those founded on compassion endure.”

The class murmured in surprise. I could see the shock on their faces—Aaradhya, the “scaredy mouse,” was holding her ground.

Vikrant leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “Trust and respect are earned through results, not sentiments. A leader must make tough decisions, and compassion often gets in the way. The people may admire a kind leader, but they follow a strong one.”

I stepped closer, my voice rising slightly. “Strength without empathy alienates the people. A leader who rules with an iron fist may gain obedience, but never loyalty. Compassion doesn’t weaken a leader; it strengthens their bond with those they lead.”

The room was silent now, the tension palpable.

Vikrant smirked, his tone mocking. “And what happens when compassion leads to indecision? When a leader hesitates because they’re too busy worrying about feelings? A compassionate leader is a liability in times of crisis.”

I clenched my fists, my voice steady but laced with steel. “And what happens when power leads to oppression? When a leader becomes blinded by their own strength, forgetting the very people they’re meant to serve? A powerful leader without compassion is nothing but a dictator.”

The class gasped, their eyes darting between us like spectators at a tennis match.

Vikrant’s smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “A dictator may be feared, but they’re also effective. Fear ensures compliance, and compliance ensures order.”

I took a step closer, my eyes blazing. “But fear breeds rebellion. And when the people rise, even the most powerful dictator falls. A leader who inspires loyalty through compassion doesn’t need to fear rebellion—they have the unwavering support of their people.”

The teacher raised her hand, her voice cutting through the tension. “Enough. Both of you have made excellent points. This debate ends in a tie.”

The bell rang, signaling the end of class.

I sat down, my hands trembling with suppressed anger. A tie? I had never tied in a debate before.

As the class filed out, Tanu caught up with me, her face a mix of amusement and concern.

“You really have guts, Anshi,” she said, chuckling. “And a bad temper too.”

I glared at her, but the corner of my mouth twitched. “He’s insufferable.”

She patted my shoulder. “Maybe. But you just did what no one else has ever done—you stood up to Vikrant Oberoi and matched him word for word. That’s something to be proud of.”

I sighed, my anger slowly ebbing away. “I don’t care about him. I just hate that face.”

Tanu laughed, linking her arm with mine. “Come on, let’s get something to eat. You’ve earned it.”

Lunch was a quiet affair, but the air around me buzzed with curiosity. Everywhere I went, people seemed to want to be friends with me. They gathered around, offering compliments, asking questions, and trying to make small talk. I glanced at Tanu, who gave me a wink, clearly amused by the sudden attention.

“Looks like you’re the new star of the college,” she teased.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the slight smile tugging at my lips. “Just trying to survive here.”

We finished our lunch, and I stood up, gathering my things. “I’m going to the washroom,” I told her. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Sure, I’ll be right here,” Tanu said, nodding as she scrolled through her phone.

I walked down the corridor toward the girls' washroom, my mind still swirling with the events of the day. The debate had left me restless, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. As I entered the washroom, I went straight to the sink to wash my hands.

I was just about to turn the tap off when I heard the unmistakable sound of a door locking behind me. My blood froze. I turned around, and there he was—Vikrant Oberoi.

My stomach churned with a mixture of anger and disgust. He was leaning casually against the door, smirking as if this was all some kind of game.

I gritted my teeth. “It’s the girls' washroom,” I said, my voice cold.

He didn’t even flinch. “I know,” he replied nonchalantly, his eyes glinting with something dangerous.

I could feel my blood boiling. This was a provocation, and I wasn’t going to back down. I tried to move past him, but as soon as I did, he stepped forward and shoved me against the wall.

The suddenness of it took me off guard, but I immediately reacted, my elbow connecting with his side. He grunted, but it wasn’t enough to make him let go. Instead, he locked his hands around my wrists, pulling me even closer.

I could feel the heat of his body, and the proximity made my skin crawl. I struggled against him, but his grip tightened, keeping me pressed against the cold wall.

“What do you want?” I spat, my voice laced with venom.

For a moment, he just stared at me, his gaze intense, as though he were seeing me for the first time.

I struggled again, but he didn’t break eye contact. It was as if he was lost in his thoughts, his eyes tracing every inch of my face.

I broke out of my trance. “What?” I asked, my voice sharp.

He blinked, shaking his head as if snapping out of a daze. “The debate was good,” he said, his voice low. “When did you learn to argue like that?”

I raised an eyebrow, my lips curling into a sly smile. “Oh, I’ve had practice,” I said, my voice dripping with sass. “You know, not everyone spends their time getting bullied.”

His expression faltered for a second, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. But he quickly masked it with a smirk.

“As you lost your memories, I should introduce myself again,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “Vikrant Oberoi.”

Before he could say anything more, I kicked him hard in the shin. He groaned in pain, loosening his grip on my wrists.

I yanked my hands free, stepping back as I glared at him. “Don’t ever come in front of me again if you want to stay alive.”

His eyes widened, clearly shocked, but then a strange amusement crossed his face. He was both taken aback and… impressed?

I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I turned to leave, but just as my hand touched the door handle, he grabbed my wrist.

“Wait,” he said, his voice low, but there was something different in it now.

He intertwined his fingers with mine, and I froze. My heart raced, my mind screaming at me to pull away, but I couldn’t. His touch was… unsettling, like he was trying to hold onto something he couldn’t quite grasp.

“What are you doing?” I hissed, my pulse pounding in my ears.

His grip tightened, and for the first time, there was a genuine look of regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I stared at him, my anger flaring again. “For what?” I asked, my voice sharp. “For everything you’ve done? For all the bullying? For making her life a living hell?”

His face twisted with guilt. “Yes,” he said softly. “For all of it.”

I scoffed, twisting his fingers in my hand, making him wince. “Why should I believe you, Mr. Oberoi?” I said, my voice laced with bitterness. “Why apologize now? Does a sorry fix everything?”

He looked taken aback by my words, but I didn’t give him a chance to explain. “Do you think a sorry will bring Aaradhya back to life? Will it erase all the pain you caused her?”

I almost slipped that aaradhya was me now .

Vikrant seemed to understand, his expression softening. But I didn’t want to face it. I didn’t want to acknowledge the truth.

Before he could say anything, I pulled my hand from his grasp, walking briskly toward the door. “I’m leaving,” I said, my voice final.

He called after me, but I didn’t look back.

As I stepped out into the hallway, I saw Tanu waiting for me. She looked at me, her eyes wide with concern.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice trembling.

I shook my head, not wanting to go into it. “Nothing,” I said, my voice cold. “Let’s just go to class.”

We walked to our next class, but I couldn’t help but ask again, “What did he do to Aaradhya? ”

I narrowed my eyes at her, my temper flaring again. “What do you mean ’?”

She hesitated, biting her lip. “Okay, don’t get angry, but…” She paused, looking around as if checking if anyone was listening. “Aaradhya… she had a little crush on Vikrant.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes widening in shock. “What? You said he was her bully!”

Tanu nodded sheepishly. “Yeah, I know. But… she still liked him. It was complicated.”

I was speechless, my mind reeling. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous.

“I didn’t want to scare you,” she said, her voice trembling. “After everything that happened in your time with that face … I didn’t think you’d  like this .”

I felt a mix of anger and confusion building inside me. I didn’t know what to think. How could Aaradhya have a crush on him? After everything he put her through?

Tanu showed me a video on her phone, and I froze. It was a video of Aaradhya, shy and hesitant, holding out a rose to Vikrant. He laughed at her, making fun of her in front of everyone.

I felt a surge of rage. “I want to kill someone right now,” I muttered under my breath.

Tanu nodded, her face full of regret. “I didn’t want to scare you, but after all you … you also hated his face, right?”

I nodded, my mind in turmoil. “Yeah. I hate his face.”

We went through the rest of the class in silence, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Vikrant and that stupid apology.

As we walked out, Tanu spoke again. “So… he really said sorry? Did he try to do something like pour water on you or pull a prank?”

I shook my head, my thoughts still clouded. “No. It was different.”

Tanu raised an eyebrow. “Really? He never says sorry. Not to anyone.”

I hummed in response, deep in thought. “Do I have an Instagram account?”

Tanu looked at me, confused. “No. Aaradhya didn’t have one.”

“I want to open one,” I said suddenly. “I want to learn more about technology.”

Tanu smiled. “That’s a great idea. Why an account though ? ”

I nodded, my mind already racing. “ nothing just they should know aaradhya isn't shy and hesitant anymore. I need to delete that video from everyone’s phone.”

Tanu’s face lit up. “I know a person who can help you. Your brother, Daksh. He’s an expert hacker after all .”

I looked at her in surprise. “Daksh? Will he help me ? ”

She nodded. “He loves his little sister. He’ll help you.”

I sighed, feeling a pang of sadness. “Not me. But Aaradhya.”

Tanu’s expression softened. “We should tell him the truth. He needs to know.”

I hesitated, unsure if Daksh would even believe me. “Will he believe us?”

Tanu smiled. “Let’s see.”

I nodded, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and fear. I texted Daksh, asking him to come to meet me.

Just then, my phone pinged.

I checked the message. It was from someone named “Disaster.”

“You know my knuckles still hurt.”

I stared at the message, confused, and showed it to Tanu. She slammed on the brakes, her eyes wide with shock.

“Careful!” I said, grabbing the seat. “What happened?”

Tanu looked at me, her face pale.  I asked , “What? Who is this Disaster?”

She frowned, staring at the phone. “It’s Vikrant Oberoi.”

I felt a smirk spread across my face as I typed my reply. “Oh, really? Poor baby. Maybe you should’ve

thought about that before you touched me.”

Tanu looked at me with concern, but I just put my phone away. “Let’s go. We’ve got bigger things to deal with now.”