Published on:- 22/1/25 [Wednesday]
...

The queen sat gracefully in her opulent chamber, the scent of fresh roses wafting through the air. The golden sunlight was filtered through the silk curtains, casting soft patterns on the marble floor.

She held a porcelain cup delicately, sipping her tea as her maids busied themselves around her.

First Maid asked the queen, "Maharani Devi, kya chai thandi to nahi ho gayi?"

Queen responded, "Nahi, bilkul sahi hai. Dhoop ke saath iska swaad aur bhi behtareen lagta hai."

One maid carefully adjusted the flowers in the vase, glancing nervously toward the queen.

Second Maid asked in a low voice, "Maharani Devi, kya main parde theek kar doon?"

The Queen shook her head, "Parde waise hi rehne do. Hawa ka ehsaas achha lag raha hai."

Another maid hesitated near the writing desk, holding a tray of documents and asked, "Maharani Devi, shahi patra aa chuke hai. Aapka aadesh?"

The queen placed her cup gently on the side table and looked out of the window, her eyes calm yet commanding.

The Queen said, "Abhi nahi. Mujhe is sukoon bhare pal ka thoda aur anand lene do."

The maids exchanged quick glances, understanding her mood. One of them stepped forward hesitantly.

Maid fourth asked, "Maharani Devi, kya aapko kuch aur chahiye?"

The Queen looked and responded smiling faintly, "Nahi. Filhal yeh shaanti mere liye kaafi hai."

The maids quietly returned to their tasks, their movements soft and deliberate, while the queen enjoyed the serenity of her chamber - a rare moment of peace amidst the weight of her responsibilities.

The queen’s tranquil chamber was suddenly interrupted as her loyal maid entered hastily, bowing deeply.

The maid said, "Maharani Devi!"

The queen’s eyes lifted sharply. With a graceful yet commanding gesture, she raised her hand.

The Queen said, "Ekant."

At once, the other maids bowed and left the chamber in silence, leaving the queen alone with her most trusted attendant.

The Queen said to the maid, "Bolo! Kya samachar hai?"

The maid hesitated for a brief moment, lowering her gaze before speaking cautiously.

The maid responded, "Maharani Devi, raj darbar mein ek avashyak ghatna ghati hai. Rajkumar Ved ko aaj darbar mein Maharaj ke paas dekha gaya."

The queen’s expression hardened, her fingers lightly brushing against the rim of her cup.

The Queen asked, "Darbar mein? Raja ke paas? Aur kaun tha wahaan?"

The maid replied, "Maharaj ke saath kuch mantri bhi the... par Rajkumar Ved ka wahan hona darbar mein charchit ho raha hai. Sab log is baat ka matlab samajhne ka prayas kar rahe hain."

The queen's jaw tightened, her calm demeanor barely masking her irritation.

Queen said, "Mujhse chhupane ki kosish? Meri nazar har nazar aur harkaton pe rehti hai. Rajkumar Ved ko darbar mein aane ki anumati kisne di?"

The maid replied, "Ish Dasi ko nahi pata, Maharani Devi, par yeh spasht hai ki Maharaj ne anumati di thi."

The queen leaned forward slightly, her voice low but sharp.

The Queen said, "Maharaj ke faisle ko kabhi prashna nahi kar sakti lekin Mujhe darbar ke har shabd ki jaankari chahiye. Ab jao aur kisi aur ko is baat ki sudhi na lage."

The maid said "Ji, Maharani Devi."

The maid bowed deeply and exited, leaving the queen in deep thought, her calm exterior concealing the storm brewing within her.

The queen’s piercing gaze was fixed on the empty space ahead as she spoke, her voice carrying the weight of authority.

The Queen murmured coldly, "Maharaj! Hamara pratham putra Shivaal aapka utradhikari hai. Yeh baat kabhi mat bhuliyega. Shivaal ke bad Shivam hoga aur koi nahi"

Her words lingered in the air, and her mind drifted to the consorts of the king, those sly and ambitious women who dared to eye the position meant for her son, the crown prince.

The queen’s lips curled into a knowing smirk as she murmured to herself.

Queen thought, 'Lagta hai, lomdiyon se milna padega'.

With that, she clapped her hands sharply, the sound echoing through the grand chamber. A maid entered promptly, bowing before her.

Queen spoke, "Jao aur Rani Devangana, Rani Rajmala aur Rani Vasumati ko hamara paigam do ki Maharani Devi unse milne ANANG VATIKA me aengi".

The maid replied, "Ji, Maharani Devi."

The maid bowed and exited the chamber swiftly, leaving the queen alone with her thoughts, her sharp mind already crafting the strategy for the impending meeting.

Her gaze darkened as she prepared to face the cunning rivals, ensuring no one dared challenge her son’s rightful claim to the throne.

On the other hand, In the vast expanse of the Kundarastra army, the air buzzed with tension.

Shivaal, the crown prince and the army’s Senapati, stood tall amidst his loyal officers and soldiers.

The meeting of Prince Ved with the King in the royal court caused a sensation in the Kingdom.

"Senapati ji! Rajkumar Ved ka Maharaj se bhari raj darbar mein milna, ye koi sadharan baat nahi ho sakti.", one of the soldiers said.

Shivaal’s eyes narrowed as he processed the information, his mind quickly calculating the implications.

Before he could respond, the vice-captain of the army stepped forward, his voice grave.

"Senapati ji, is ghatna ka matlab kuch aur hi lagta hai. Rajkumar Ved ki har kadam par nazar rakhni hogi."

Shivaal’s jaw tightened as his sharp gaze fixed on the horizon, when suddenly a soldier came running towards him, his breathing labored.

The soldier said, "Senapati Shivaal! Rajkumar Ved... Rajkumar Ved mantriyon ke saath kalkothari gaye the!"

Shivaal’s eyes sharpened further, his body stiffened at the mention of the royal dungeons.

The soldier continued to speak, "Wahan unhe bandi 'Rajkumari Samanvitha' nahi mili. Aur ab woh sab Sheesh Mahal jaa rahe hain."

Shivaal’s expression darkened, and a storm brewed within his eyes. His hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his sword.

Shivaal said in a low, commanding voice "Rajkumar Ved apni hadon ko bar bar tod raha hai aur Shivaal ko ye pasand nahi".

He turned to his officers while his voice was carrying the weight of a born leader.

Shivaal said, "Sena tayyar rakho aur yaad rakhna sena me wahi ho jo Shivaal ke sath ho".

His men saluted in unison, the air around them charged with purpose as the soldiers dispersed to fulfill their duties.

Shivaal mounted his horse, his mind already plotting his next move in this unfolding political game.

...

In the grand hall of the Varnanpura kingdom, the air was thick with tension.

Samrat Ratanveer Varn sat on his golden throne and his piercing gaze was fixed on Acharya Vishnu, who stood before him. With an unsettling calmness, the emperor spoke.

Samrat Ratanveer said, "Varnanpura ko Amrit Sarovar chahiye. Kya Kundarastra de sakta hai?"

Acharya Vishnu, a man of wisdom and diplomacy, took a deep breath, his fingers trembling slightly as he unscrolled the letter bearing Kundarastra's royal seal.

His voice echoed in the silent chamber as he read the contents aloud.

"Kundarastra rajya ke Maharaj Abhisaar Samaiyar se, Varnanpura Rajya... Amrit Sarovar ke badle kuch bhi mang sakte hai."

A chilling silence followed his words, broken only by the Samrat’s deep chuckle. His lips curled into a wicked smile that sent shivers down the spines of everyone present.

Samrat Ratanveer said, "To fir, Samrat... Amrit Sarovar ke badle, Rajdhara rajya ki Yuvrani Samanvitha Gayasen, jo ki Kundarastra rajya ke kalkothari me band hai - ki mang karta hai."

Acharya Vishnu's eyes widened in shock, and the scroll slipped slightly from his grasp. For a moment, he stood frozen, struggling to comprehend the audacious demand.

Acharya Vishnu stammered, "Yuvrani Samanvitha... lekin, Samrat Ratanveer ye to --- "

Samrat Ratanveer Varn raised a hand, silencing the Acharya with an authoritative gesture. His voice was calm, yet laced with an ominous finality.

Samrat Ratanveer said, "Amrit Sarovar ke badle yeh meri shart hai. Kundarastra ko faisla lena hoga. Ab wapas jao aur mera sandesh pohcha do. Aur keh dena ya to Rajkumari Samanvitha ya to Amrit Sarovar, warna ek aur yudh ke liye taiyyar rehna hoga".

Acharya Vishnu bowed hesitantly, his mind reeling with the implications of this demand.

As he exited the hall, the Samrat leaned back on his throne, his eyes gleaming with ruthless determination, plotting his next move in this dangerous game of power, possession and obsession.

"Ab to tum prassanna hoge, mitra Priyam", Samrat Ratanveer said and a young boy around seventeen years old appeared before him.

"Mujhe bas Rajkumari Samanvitha chahiye. Aur kuch nahi".

Priyam, a scholar son of a royal minister of Rajdhara Kingdom stood confidently before Samrat Ratanveer whose eyes were glistening with wickedness.

....

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