"I want to marry your daughter," Karthikeyan said with unwavering determination, his eyes locking onto the king's with a seriousness that could not be denied.

The king smirked.

"She is not a jasmine to be plucked easily from its shrub. She is a rose - guarded by thorns of her own. She is fire, not a mere flower you can buy in the market."

He stepped forward. "Fight. And win."

Karthikeyan's lips curled into a confident smile.

"As the king commands."

"Veeramari Arulchelvi Nachiyar, the beloved princess of this kingdom!" a tall guard announced with a booming voice.

"Coming... coming..." he repeated as the palace doors opened

She entered with grace - her pleated half saree flowing like waves, embodying tradition and elegance. A bright red bindi adorned her forehead, drawing attention to eyes that held centuries of power and poise. Her smile? It could bring empires to their knees.

Karthikeyan's breath caught. "She is... immense," he whispered, awestruck.

"Let's fight," she said, her voice calm but resonating through the entire court.

She unsheathed her sword with a swift, fluid motion. Fire danced in her eyes.

"I'm already fallen... and you're making me fall even more," Karthikeyan murmured with a smile, drawing his sword with reverence.

The clash began. Steel met steel in a harmony of sparks and speed.

Their blades sang a dangerous tune, dancing through the air as if guided by fate itself.

Karthikeyan spun, attempting a feint. She blocked with precision and countered with a twist that nearly disarmed him. He smirked, impressed.

"You fight like a man, Veera."

"My name sounds strange on your tongue, your majesty," she said between strikes, her smile teasing.

"It will feel like home soon. You'll crave to hear me say it-my Veera."

"Be careful, your majesty. Your love might be your greatest weakness," she warned, launching a surprise attack from the side.

He parried just in time. "If I fall, I know you'll be there to catch me."

Then, unexpectedly, he dropped to one knee in the middle of the fight.

"Veeramari Arulchelvi Nachiyar," he said, his voice deep and solemn,

"I, Karthikeyan Chakrathalwar, the one and only king of the Pari Kingdom, wish to marry you-not just as a victor of battle, but as a man defeated in love. I kneel before you, not because I lost, but because I surrender to the love I can no longer fight."

Silence fell over the court.

Veeramari looked down at him, her expression unreadable. Then, with a proud tilt of her head, she knelt beside him. Lifting her sword in salute, she bowed.

"Veeramari..." the king gasped, taken aback.

She smiled. "Veeramari Arulchelvi Nachiyar, the once carefree princess, now stands ready to be your queen-not just with love in her heart, but with a sword in her hand. I will protect you in battle and cherish you in peace."

"I'm ready, my king," she said softly, filled with love and fire.

They rose together, hands clasped - warriors, lovers, and now, future rulers.

The king, moved by pride, proclaimed to all gathered,

"Let every kingdom hear this! The beloved princess shall marry the great King of Pari.

Their union shall blaze like a festival written in stars!.