Veer felt the urge to push her away, but before he could act, Pari withdrew her hand and tapped the table.
"Marry me," she declared boldly. "You will have a happy future and a healthy life."
The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, startling everyone present. This was the first time Veer had encountered someone so brazen in their intentions, and he raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his features. "Why should I marry you?" he inquired, his tone a mix of curiosity and challenge.
Pari's smile widened, unflinching under his scrutiny. "I will treat you. In exchange, marry me."
Her proposition sent waves of astonishment rippling through the garden, particularly affecting the royal doctor, whose eyes widened in disbelief. No one, not even the closest courtiers, was privy to the prince's secret—a debilitating illness that had haunted him for years despite countless attempts by the kingdom's best physicians to cure him.
Veer masked his surprise but maintained an impassive expression. "You will treat me? What a joke," he replied, his voice cool.
Pari's demeanor remained calm as she continued, "You are powerful, yes, but you're not at your full capability. Your energy drains rapidly; you often feel weak and fatigued. You struggle to breathe at times, and your sleepless nights are a testament to the pain that torments you."
Veer's narrowed gaze locked onto hers. How did she know this? She had been labeled useless by many, yet she spoke of his condition with unsettling clarity, as if she could see right through him. Was she truly as helpless as they claimed, or was there more to her than met the eye?
The royal doctor, equally stunned, could only stare at Pari in wide-eyed shock. He had spent years trying to discern the cause of the prince's affliction yet had failed miserably. How could this girl uncover such details simply by touching his wrist? "Miss, how do you know all of this?" he finally managed to ask, his voice trembling with intrigue.
Pari tilted her head slightly, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes. "It doesn't matter how I know. What matters is that your prince doesn't have much time left."
At that, the servant's face flushed with anger. "How can you say that? My master is perfectly fine and will live long!"
Pari merely smiled, a serene expression that seemed to mock the tension around them. "If you don't believe me, then don't. But I speak the truth."
As the exchange progressed, the doctor, now regaining his composure, asked, "How long does my master have?"
"Maximum four years, minimum two," she replied, her voice steady. "But the last few years will be engulfed in pain. He will bleed periodically; his strength will wane, and the suffering before his end will be unbearable."
Listening intently, Veer's interest piqued despite himself. "Why do you want to help me? What do you gain from marrying me?"
There was no sign of infatuation in her tone; he was certain of that. The curiosity gnawed at him, compelling him to pursue the inquiry.
"Because, aside from your illness, you are perfect," Pari stated, as if she were discussing the weather. "If we marry, you will regain your health, and I can enjoy being your princess consort. We won't interfere in each other's lives; there will be no pressure from the marriage. Doesn't that sound ideal?"
The servant and the doctor were left speechless, grappling with the unconventionality of her words. Such forthrightness was rare in courtly circles, and it left them both stunned.
Veer locked eyes with Pari, his expression unreadable. "Why do you believe I would accept your proposal?"
"Because," she stated casually, "if you want to live, you will marry me. If you choose not to, that's fine too. But I am not the one who is going to die in a few years, am I?"
Silence enveloped the garden as everyone absorbed her audacity. Was this truly the same timid Miss Pari they had all come to know?