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As Vikramaditya, disguised as a servant, entered the city of Chandrapura, he blended in seamlessly with the common folk. His attire, simple yet practical, consisted of a worn cotton dhoti and a faded kurta. A plain cloth wrapped around his head protected him from the scorching sun.

Despite his humble appearance, Vikram's inherent charm and confidence set him apart. His broad shoulders and chiseled features, honed from years of martial training, seemed to radiate an aura of quiet strength. His piercing eyes, though cast downward in humility, sparkled with a hint of mischief, suggesting that there was more to this servant than met the eye.

As he walked through the streets of Chandrapura, Vikram's fluid movements and effortless stride commanded attention. People couldn't help but glance at him, sensing the presence of someone extraordinary. His perfect personality, forged through years of leadership and diplomacy, shone through even in his humble disguise, making him stand out in a crowd without drawing unnecessary attention.

As he made his way through the city, Vikram took in the sights and sounds of Chandrapura. The streets were narrow and winding, lined with shops and stalls selling everything from fresh produce to exotic spices. The air was thick with the smells of cooking oil, incense, and fresh bread.

Vikram's eyes scanned the crowds, taking in the diverse array of faces. The people of Chandrapura were a vibrant and eclectic mix, with skin tones ranging from dark brown to pale gold. They wore a dazzling array of colors and patterns, from intricate embroidery to bold block prints.

As he turned a corner, Vikram caught sight of the bustling bazaar. The vendors and shopkeepers called out to him, offering their wares and services. Vikram looked at them with his cold eyes, taking in the sights and sounds of the market. He noticed the variety of goods on display, from intricately crafted textiles to delicate silver jewelry.

Despite the chaos and noise of the bazaar, Vikram felt a sense of calm and focus. He was a man on a mission, determined to conquer Chandrapura and claim its riches for himself. But as he looked around at the people and the city, he couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration and respect for this vibrant and thriving metropolis.

As he continued on his way, Vikram noticed the dress of the people of Chandrapura. The men wore traditional dhotis and kurtas, while the women wore vibrant saris and ornate jewelry. The colors and patterns of their clothing seemed to dance in the sunlight, adding to the city's already festive atmosphere.

Vikram's gaze lingered on a group of women, their saris a kaleidoscope of colors and patterns. They laughed and chatted, their eyes sparkling with joy and laughter.

He looked around, taking in the sights and sounds of Chandrapura once more. He knew that he had a long and difficult road ahead of him, but he was ready for the challenge. He was Vikramaditya, king of Pratapgarh, and he would stop at nothing to achieve his goals.

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The sun cast its warm rays upon the palace, illuminating the intricate carvings and ornate furnishings that adorned the opulent halls. A gentle breeze rustled through the corridors, carrying with it the sweet scent of blooming flowers. The air was filled with the fragrance of jasmine and rose, their delicate petals swaying in the breeze like delicate ballerinas.

As the wind danced through the palace, the white curtains billowed out like sails, their delicate folds rustling softly. Behind these curtains, a maid named Rajsri stood, her eyes fixed intently on the scene unfolding before her. Prince Avyukt, the young and dashing prince of Chandrapura, stood in the center of the room, his eyes scrutinizing the array of swords and arms laid out before him.

The soldiers stood at attention, their faces stern and unyielding, as they displayed their finest weaponry. Avyukt's eyes narrowed as he examined each sword, his mind working tirelessly to assess their strength and weakness. Rajsri watched, mesmerized, as the prince's hands moved deftly over the blades, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns etched into the metal.

Just when Rajsri was looking at the prince her heart skipped a beat as Avyukt's eyes met hers, even if only for a fleeting moment.

Rajsri's thoughts drifted to naughty imaginings about the prince. "Oh, Avyukt, how I wish to be in your arms..." She blushed at her own audacity.

Suddenly, a poke on her back interrupted her reverie.

"Oh ho, Kavita, tang mat kar!" Rajsri exclaimed, thinking it was her friend.

Another gentle tug on her hair followed.

"Mat kar na, Kavita, dekh toh kitne pyaare lag rahe hai Rajkumar Avyukt" Rajsri said, smiling at the prince.

However, instead of Kavita's playful response, a firm grip on her ears twisted her around. Rajsri moved backward slowly, hissing in surprise.

"Dai Ma!" she exclaimed, laughing nervously.

Dai Ma, an elderly woman in her 60s, stood before her, a sly grin on her face.

"Rajsri, tum yaha kya kar rahi ho?" Dai Ma asked, twisting Rajsri's ear slightly.

Rajsri winced, moving her body nervously.

"Dai Ma, aap wo... main toh bas yahi... Mera matlab wo yaha bahut gandagi hai." Rajsri stuttered.

Dai Ma's grip tightened.

"Ahh, Dai Ma, choro na! Main toh bas thori safai kar rahi thi." Rajsri pleaded.

Dai Ma released Rajsri's ear, her expression playful.

Rajsri rubbed her sore ear, her face flushing.

"Kisi aur cheez ko saaf karne se pehle dimag saaf karo apna," Dai Ma said playfully, her eyes twinkling.

"Maine kya kiya?" She asked, wide-eyed and innocent.

Dai Ma chuckled, her hands on her hips. "Wo jise chip chip ke dekh rahi ho na, he's the prince of the kingdom, ok?"

Her thoughts raced mischievously. Rajkumar hai, tabhi toh chup chup ke dekhna par raha hai.

Dai Ma's hand connected with my head, a gentle tap. "Ye man me khud se baate karna band karo, nadan ladki."

Rajsri grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Aap bas jalti hai mujhse ki main sundar aur Jawan hu aur aap buddhi ho chuki ho."

Dai Ma's face turned stern, but her eyes betrayed a hint of amusement.

"Ruk tujhe batati hu mai!" Dai Ma shouted as Rajsri laughed and ran away, her laughter echoing through the hallways of the palace.

Dai ma said smiling while looking at the disappearing figure of Rajsri

"Bilkul Nadan hai abhi"

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