Tanvi was no stranger to challenges. At just twenty-two, she had already made a name for herself in the business world. Her sharp instincts and relentless drive had allowed her to build a small empire back in the modern world, where she ran a successful company. But now, things were different. The strange twist of fate that had dropped her, Mira, and Rahul into this ancient, unfamiliar time had forced her to start from scratch. And starting over was proving to be no easy task.
After their unsettling journey to the past, Tanvi had quickly realized that if they were to survive, they needed a stable source of income. People in this world lived simple lives, and women usually made things at home, but Tanvi's business acumen told her that she could turn even the smallest venture into something big. And so, with Mira by her side, she had opened a small sweet shop, a modest wooden stall in the middle of a bustling town market.
It wasn't easy. At first, no one paid attention to her sweets. The women of the town, used to making their own delicacies, saw no reason to buy from a stranger. But Tanvi wasn't discouraged. She had learned long ago that success took patience, creativity, and sometimes, a little risk. So she offered her sweets for free. She let the people taste them, confident that once they tried them, they wouldn't be able to resist coming back for more.
Mira, always the pessimist, had her doubts. "You really think this will work?" she asked one afternoon, watching as Tanvi handed out samples to passersby.
Tanvi smiled confidently. "It's simple. Once they taste the quality, they'll want more. Besides, giving them away for free makes people curious. It creates buzz."
Mira raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. As much as she hated to admit it, Tanvi's plan was working. Slowly, word spread through the town about the strange woman selling the best sweets people had ever tasted. Soon, her shop was attracting a steady flow of customers, and within a month, she had enough money to rent the small stall she had been operating out of.
Just as Tanvi was beginning to feel that she had found her footing, trouble arrived in the form of Rahul.
It was one of those hot, dusty afternoons when Tanvi was preparing her stall for the evening crowd. She had just arranged her trays of sweets—rows of perfectly golden laddus and syrupy jalebis—when she noticed a commotion across the street.
Rahul stood in front of a new stall directly opposite hers, his arms crossed, a smug grin on his face. He waved at her in mock greeting, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Ah, Tanvi," he called, his voice loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "It looks like we're neighbors now. What a coincidence!"
Tanvi's jaw tightened. "Rahul," she muttered under her breath. She should have known he wouldn't stay out of her business for long.
Rahul leaned casually against his stall, which was lined with fresh, colorful fruits and jars of honey. It was an attractive setup, but what really drew attention were the women whispering and giggling as they walked by, casting furtive glances at Rahul. His good looks and easy charm were doing half the work for him.
Mira, standing beside Tanvi, groaned. "Of course. The guy looks like a prince, and now he's trying to steal your customers with that face of his."
Tanvi clenched her fists, glaring at Rahul. "This isn't over," she whispered.
Rahul, catching her expression, smirked and pointed at his stall. "This," he said with a sweeping gesture, "is what we call business."
For the next few days, the market became a battlefield. Rahul's stall was always packed, not only because of the quality of his produce but because of his growing reputation. The town's women, entranced by his charm, flocked to his stall, leaving Tanvi's sweets largely ignored.
Tanvi was not one to give up easily. She sent Mira to gather people from nearby villages, offering discounts and promotions to bring them to her shop. Mira ran through the streets, calling out to anyone who would listen, telling them about Tanvi's famous sweets and offering special deals for bulk purchases.
By the end of the week, the competition had grown fierce. Rahul had hired a group of young men to stand in front of his stall, calling out to passersby and drawing them in with offers of fresh fruit and honey. Tanvi countered by setting up a small demonstration, where she and Mira showed people how to make sweets right in front of them, adding a sense of theater to the experience. Customers lined up to watch, and slowly but surely, Tanvi's business began to recover.
But Rahul wasn't done. He started offering free samples too, using his charm to lure people away from Tanvi's stall. The rivalry grew more intense with each passing day, and soon it became the talk of the town. People began coming to the market just to watch the two young entrepreneurs battle it out, placing bets on who would win.
It wasn't long before the noise and chaos attracted the attention of the royal guards.
One afternoon, just as Tanvi was serving a line of eager customers, a group of heavily armored guards marched into the marketplace. Their leader, a stern-looking man with a thick black beard, stepped forward and surveyed the scene with a frown. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his voice booming.
The crowd fell silent, and Tanvi's heart sank. She could feel the tension in the air as the guards approached.
One of the guards pointed at Tanvi's stall, then at Rahul's. "These two," he said gruffly, "have set up illegal shops without the proper permits."
Rahul raised his hands innocently. "Illegal? Come on, we're just selling some sweets and fruit."
But the guard wasn't impressed. "You've caused enough disruption. Both of you are under arrest."
Mira gasped. "What? You can't arrest us for selling sweets!"
The guard shot her a cold look. "You've been causing a disturbance. Now come with us."
Before Tanvi could protest, she felt rough hands grab her arms and drag her away from the stall. She glanced over at Rahul, who looked just as shocked as she was. They were being led through the streets, the crowd parting as the guards marched them toward the palace.
---
When they finally reached the palace, they were brought before a grand hall, the air inside cool and scented with incense. At the far end of the room sat His Majesty, the ruler of the region, a regal man with sharp, discerning eyes. He sat on a gilded throne, surrounded by advisors and courtiers, all of whom stared curiously at the newcomers.
The captain of the guard stepped forward and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty, these three have been caught running illegal businesses in the town market. They were causing a great disturbance."
The king raised an eyebrow, his gaze settling on Tanvi, Rahul, and Mira. "Is that so?" His voice was calm but held an edge of authority.
Tanvi stepped forward, determined not to let things spiral out of control. "Your Majesty," she began, her voice steady, "we didn't mean to cause any trouble. We're simply trying to make a living."
The king's eyes narrowed slightly, studying her. "And why, pray tell, did you not seek the proper permits for your businesses?"
Rahul cleared his throat, attempting to speak. "Your Majesty, we didn't realize—"
The king raised a hand to silence him. "Ignorance of the law is no excuse."
Turned to Tanvi, "Name of your young lady?"
As Tanvi stood before the king, the weight of the moment pressed heavily upon her. The grand hall was silent, save for the soft rustling of the courtiers' robes and the flickering of torches along the stone walls. The king's eyes, sharp and calculating, were fixed on her, and for a moment, her mind raced for a way out of this situation.
"My... my name is Tanvi," she finally spoke, her voice trembling slightly. She motioned towards Mira and Rahul, who stood awkwardly by her side. "And she is Mira."
The king leaned forward, his brows furrowed in curiosity. "So, you three are not from our kingdom. How did you come to be here?" His voice was calm but probing, his gaze piercing as he studied their every move.
Tanvi felt a cold sweat forming at the back of her neck. She hadn't expected this question. Without missing a beat, she glanced down, trying to appear fragile and vulnerable. "Your Majesty, we have lost everything... and everyone," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "My parents were sea merchants..." She paused, letting her voice break as if struggling to hold back tears. Her acting was flawless, and before she could stop herself, a sob escaped her lips. "I... I lost them in a terrible storm."
Mira and Rahul both exchanged looks, stunned by Tanvi's sudden display of grief. They hadn't rehearsed this.
Rahul's eyes widened, and he whispered, "What is she doing?"
Mira shook her head, equally confused. "I have no idea," she muttered under her breath.
Tanvi ignored them, fully committing to her fabricated story. "Our ship was caught in a deadly storm at sea," she said, her voice trembling. She wiped at her eyes, the perfect picture of a grieving daughter.
The king's expression softened, but his curiosity wasn't satisfied. "But how did you end up here? The sea is far from this kingdom." His eyes narrowed slightly, as if sensing something wasn't quite right.
Tanvi's heart pounded in her chest. She hadn't thought that far ahead. Her mind scrambled for an explanation, and she feared her story was falling apart. Just when the silence grew unbearable, Mira stepped forward, her face set with determination.
"Kidnapped!" Mira blurted out. "We were kidnapped, Your Majesty."
Tanvi blinked, momentarily startled by Mira's bold move, but then she quickly caught on, nodding in agreement. "Yes," she said, her voice still shaky. "We were kidnapped by cruel men... pirates, perhaps. They took us far from the sea, deep into the land, and held us captive."
Rahul's mouth nearly dropped open. He wanted to protest, but one glance at the king's somber expression told him to stay quiet.
Tanvi's mind worked quickly now. She knew she had to sell this story. She pressed her hands together in a plea and continued, her voice trembling with emotion. "It was only by the grace of the gods that we escaped. We were held for days—weeks, even. But one night, we managed to free ourselves. We fled through the wilderness, starving and exhausted, but we survived. And eventually, we found our way here."
The king's stern face softened further, and he leaned back in his throne, stroking his beard thoughtfully. His eyes flicked to his advisors, who were murmuring quietly among themselves.
"But why were you selling sweets and goods without permission?" one of the ministers asked, his tone skeptical.
Tanvi hesitated for a split second, then continued, "My parents didn't have to pay taxes when they sold goods in the coastal areas. They were well-known traders. So I thought... I thought the same rules might apply here."
The king raised a hand, silencing his advisor. "And how did your parents come to be traders? Were they noble-born?"
Tanvi shook her head quickly, crafting the next part of her lie with precision. "No, Your Majesty. They were commoners, but my father was a hard worker. He earned the respect of merchants and kings alike. His ships sailed far and wide, bringing goods from distant lands. He taught me everything I know about trade. It's the only way I know how to survive."
Rahul, catching on to the lie, straightened up and decided to support her story. "Your Majesty," he interjected smoothly, "I was on that same ship. I can confirm everything Tanvi says is true. Her family saved me when I was lost at sea, and we became close friends. After the storm, we've been trying to rebuild our lives here."
Mira added, "We never meant to cause trouble. We're just trying to start over, and we didn't know the rules. Please, have mercy on us, Your Majesty."
Tanvi let more tears roll down her cheeks, glancing up at the king with what she hoped was a heart-wrenching expression. "Your Majesty, if you allow us to stay, we will work hard. We will earn our place in your kingdom. We are not criminals—we are survivors."
The room fell into a tense silence. The king's gaze shifted from Tanvi to Mira, and finally to Rahul. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest of his throne as he considered their words. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.
"Your story is... compelling," the king said slowly, his voice thoughtful. "And though I cannot verify its truth, I sense no malice in you. You may be strangers here, but you have shown resilience and courage. And in these times, such qualities are not to be dismissed lightly."
Tanvi let out a shaky breath, her heart racing.