Knight's Ordinary Lady

Prologue

His First Ambition

Aryan had never been jealous.

There had never been a reason to be.

He was only a soldier.

A man without a family name, without wealth, without a title, and without anything in this world that could truly be called his.

He had never wanted more.

He had never looked at another man’s horse and wished it were his.

Never looked at another soldier’s fine sword and wished he owned one.

Never envied the nobles who rode through the kingdom dressed in silk while he stood beneath the sun in a simple angarkha with a sword at his side.

To Aryan, life had always been simple.

Eat when there was food.

Sleep when there was time.

Fight when he was ordered to.

Survive.

That was enough.

He had grown used to having nothing.

Perhaps that was why he had never dreamed of becoming anything more.

Until he came across her.

Nia.

She stood beneath the flowering trees of the duke’s garden, dressed in a pale rose lehenga with a delicate odhani resting over her head.

The evening breeze moved softly through the garden, stirring the flowers above her and sending a few loose petals drifting around her.

Aryan’s horse slowed beneath him.

His eyes settled upon her.

They always did.

No matter how many people stood around her, somehow, his gaze found Nia first.

It had become a habit he had never admitted to himself.

For months, he had noticed where she sat.

Which path she took through the garden.

Which tree she preferred.

When she came to speak with Piku.

When she disappeared because she did not want anyone to see her crying.

He knew these things without ever meaning to learn them.

And Nia knew none of it.

She was not the most beautiful woman in the garden.

Everyone knew that.

Her elder sister, Diya, could draw every eye without even trying.

Wherever Diya went, people praised her beauty, her grace, her voice, her dancing.

She knew how to move through a room as though she belonged at its centre.

People admired her.

Women complimented her.

Men noticed her.

Even the older nobles spoke of how fortunate the duke would be when she eventually married into a powerful household.

Nia had never received such praise.

She was simply Nia.

Quiet.

Ordinary.

Often overlooked.

Yet Aryan’s eyes always found her first.

They had done so for months.

Today was no different.

Except there was someone standing beside her.

A young nobleman.

Aryan’s gaze settled upon the man.

He was dressed in fine silk, his angarkha embroidered with delicate patterns that caught the fading sunlight.

The crest of his family had been worked carefully into the fabric.

Everything about him announced what Aryan was not.

A man of rank.

A man with wealth.

A man with a respected family name.

A man who could offer a duke’s daughter a respectable future.

Aryan’s horse came to a complete stop.

He remained at the edge of the garden, watching.

Aryan’s chest tightened.

It was her presence.

Her Voice.

Now, another man was standing close enough to receive it.

The maids whispered nearby.

Aryan heard them before he meant to listen.

“Lord Kunal is such an admirable young man,” one whispered.

The other glanced toward Nia.

“He has a fine title, a handsome face, and a respectable family.”

The first maid smiled.

“Lady Nia would be fortunate to marry him.”

Aryan’s fingers tightened around the reins.

The maid looked toward the pair beneath the trees.

“Do you think the duke would agree?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” the other replied. “Lord Kunal is exactly the sort of man a noble daughter should marry.”

Aryan went still.

Exactly the sort of man.

His eyes returned to Kunal.

The nobleman’s clothes were finer.

His horse was finer.

His family name was known.

He had everything Aryan had never possessed.

And, according to the maids, he was the sort of man Nia should marry.

Aryan looked back at her.

The nobleman was still speaking to her.

Something inside Aryan twisted.

He had no right to feel this way.

Nia was not his.

She had never been his.

She had never even spoken to him.

She didn’t know that he sometimes remained beneath the trees simply because he knew she would come there.

She didn’t know that he had heard her tell Piku stories when she believed nobody was listening.

She didn’t know that he had learned the sound of her footsteps through the garden.

She didn’t know that he had watched her wipe away tears after another humiliating lesson in dancing.

She didn’t know how many times he had wanted to walk toward her and had stopped himself.

There had been countless moments when Aryan had almost approached her.

He would see her sitting beneath the tree, speaking softly to Piku, and wonder what would happen if he simply walked over.

Perhaps she would look at him.

Perhaps she would smile.

Perhaps she would ask his name.

But every time, he stopped himself.

What could he possibly say?

He was only a soldier.

She was the duke’s daughter.

Their worlds had never been meant to meet.

And yet...

Aryan couldn’t take his eyes away.

Aryan felt something hot rise in his chest.

Why did it bother him?

Why did the thought of another man near her feel like a wound?

He had never cared about wealth.

Never cared about titles.

Never dreamed of being admired.

He had spent his life with nothing and had been perfectly content with it.

Until now.

His gaze moved from Kunal to Nia.

Then back again.

He tried to convince himself it was nothing.

Perhaps he was simply being protective.

Perhaps he disliked the nobleman for some reason.

Perhaps he was imagining things.

But none of those explanations felt true.

Because the truth was far more frightening.

He did not dislike Kunal because the man was arrogant.

He disliked him because he was standing beside Nia.

He disliked him because she could be his.

He disliked him because, for one terrible moment, Aryan imagined Nia leaving the garden with another man.

Imagined her marrying him.

Imagined her smiling at him every morning.

Imagined another man standing where Aryan had secretly wished he could stand.

His jaw tightened.

He looked away.

But only for a moment.

His eyes returned to her.

For the first time, Aryan understood.

He didn’t merely want to see her smile.

He wanted to be the reason for it.

His breath caught.

Love.

The word came quietly, but once it entered his mind, there was no escaping it.

He loved her.

The realization was almost impossible to accept.

Aryan had never thought himself capable of loving anyone.

He had spent too much of his life alone.

He had learned not to expect people to stay.

He had learned not to want things he could not have.

And yet Nia had somehow become the one thing he could no longer imagine losing.

He thought of her beneath the tree.

Her quiet voice.

Her stories to Piku.

Her tears.

The way she tried to hide whenever she felt embarrassed.

The way she always seemed to believe that everyone else was better than her.

He had noticed all of it.

He had cared about all of it.

He simply had not understood why.

Until today.

And suddenly, everything he had never wanted became something he needed.

A name.

A title.

Wealth.

Power.

Not for himself.

For the right to stand before her family one day and ask for Nia’s hand.

Aryan looked down at his worn sword.

For years, it had been enough.

Now it suddenly seemed too small.

Too ordinary.

He looked at his simple clothes.

Then at the nobleman’s silk.

For the first time, he understood what the distance between them truly meant.

Love alone would not be enough.

Not in their world.

If he wanted Nia, he could not remain the nameless soldier standing at the edge of her garden.

He would have to become someone.

Someone her family could respect.

Someone no nobleman could look down upon.

Someone who could stand before the duke without shame.

Someone worthy of her.

Aryan looked at her one last time.

She was still standing beneath the trees, unaware that the quiet soldier watching from afar had just found his first ambition.

He turned his horse away.

The sound of its hooves echoed softly against the stone path as he rode from the garden.

For the first time, the life he had once accepted so easily felt too small.

He had spent his life without ambition.

That ended today.

From this moment onward, every battle would mean something different.

Every victory would bring him one step closer.

Every promotion.

Every honour.

Every piece of wealth.

Every title he earned.

He would want them for one reason.

Nia.

Not because he wanted to become powerful.

Not because he wanted the world to admire him.

But because one day, he wanted to stand before her family and say that he loved their daughter.

He wanted to ask for her hand without anyone questioning whether a soldier like him deserved her.

And perhaps, one day, Nia would look at him the way she had looked at that nobleman.

Perhaps she would smile.

A smile meant for him~

Three years earlier...