Published on:- 5/1/25 [Sunday]
...

The night was quiet, with the moonlight softly lighting up the Sheesh Mahal.

The white flowers in the garden swayed gently in the cool breeze and filled the air with their sweet scent.

Inside, Samanvitha lay on her bed on the floor while staring at the glittering ceiling above her.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't sleep. Her mind was filled with painful memories - the burning palace, her parents and the screams of her people. Every time she closed her eyes, it all came rushing back.

She sighed deeply, sitting up and wrapping her arms around her knees.

Her eyes wandered to the pond outside, where golden and orange fishes swam peacefully, unaware of her troubles. She looked at the white flower garden which was full Night-flowering jasmine, Jasmine, Arabian Jasmine, Mogra and all white tiny scented flowers.

Samanvitha took a deep breath as her nostrils were filled with sweet scents of flowers.

After what felt like hours, her exhaustion finally caught up with her. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she started to drift off.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. A faint sound had startled her - a soft rustling noise. She sat up straight, her heart pounding.

Looking around the dimly lit hall, her eyes scanned the shadows on the walls. But one shadow stood out. Someone was moving near the entrance of the Sheesh Mahal.

Her body stiffened, every sense on high alert.

"Ish pahar ko kaun ho sakta?" she wondered.

'Koi daashi? Ek ghusapaithia... Ya kahin koi hatyaara, humey chot pahuchane ke liye?'

She clutched the edge of the bedding tightly and her breathing was quick and shallow.

The shadow grew closer, its movements deliberate. As the figure stepped into a sliver of moonlight, Samanvitha held her breath and ready for whatever or whoever was approaching.

Her eyes darted around the room and searched for anything she could use as a weapon. Her gaze landed on a copper pot sitting on a nearby table.

Without a second thought, she reached for it and her fingers were gripping it tightly. The cool metal felt reassuring in her trembling hands.

Her mind raced with possibilities.

"Jo bhi ho. Itni ratri ko hamare kashsha me aney ka dussahas karne wale ko hum nahi chodenge". She thought and her jaw tightened in determination.

The shadow paused just outside the room. The faint creak of the door being pushed open sent a chill down her spine.

Samanvitha raised the pot slightly, ready to swing it with all her strength if necessary.

As the figure stepped into the moonlit chamber, Samanvitha didn't wait for confirmation of who or what it was. Acting on instinct, she swung the copper pot with all her might.

The metallic clang echoed through the Sheesh Mahal as the pot collided with the intruder's head. The figure staggered back, letting out a low grunt of pain.

Samanvitha's chest heaved as she prepared to strike again but her grip tightening on the pot. But before she could raise it, a deep, familiar voice broke the tension.

"Bas, Rajkumari! Kya mujhe mrityu dene ka irada hai?".

Her eyes widened as the shadowy figure stepped further into the light, revealing Shivaal Samaiyar.

His hand rubbed the side of his head where the pot had struck and his expression had a mixture of irritation and amusement.

'Ati Sundar....' He thought while looking at her face.

Her hair was open, tangled and fallen on her shoulder. She was wearing simple embroidery design clothes. There was no make-up, no hair accessories or ornaments on her body. She was barefoot and was sleeping on the cold floor of the palace.

"Tum?" Samanvitha gasped and her voice was laced with both relief and fury.

"Ha, main," Shivaal replied as his dark eyes were narrowing.

Samanvitha straightened but still holding the pot defensively. "Kyun aayein hai yahan?"

Shivaal chuckled softly, the sound sending an unexpected shiver down her spine.

"Yeh Sheesh Mahal hamara hai. Yahan aney janey ke liye Shivaal ko kisi se aagya lene ki jarurat nahi hai" He said in a taunting tone.

She glared at him but said nothing, the tension between them thick in the still night air.

"Itni ratri ko yahan aney ka karan?" Samanvitha demanded as her voice was steady despite the rapid beat of her heart.

She still held the copper pot in her hand and was ready to defend herself if needed.

Shivaal took a step closer while his lips were curving into a faint smirk.

"Tumhari chinta kar raha tha," he said casually, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Chinta?" she shot back, narrowing her eyes.

"Chinta ka ye tareeka hai tumhara? Bina aagya ke pravesh karna?", She said in a cold tone.

Shivaal leaned against a nearby pillar while his gaze never left her.

"Rajkumari, tumhare ish tarike se swagat karna toh... yaadgar rahega." he replied smoothly as he did not reply to her first question.

His long fingers rubbed the red, swollen area on the head.

Samanvitha's grip on the pot tightened as she looked away, "Yadi hume pata hota ki tum ho, toh yeh patra tumhare sar par nahi lagta."

Shivaal chuckled and the sound of his chuckle was deep and unsettled in the quiet room.

"Achha? Toh kis par lagta?", He asked while staring deeply at her bare face.

"Jo bhi is Sheesh Mahal mein bina anumati ke aayega ushke sar pe, " she retorted sharply, her chin lifting defiantly. Her voice broke his trances.

"Toh main sabak le leta hoon. Agli baar anumati lekar aaunga" Shivaal said with mock seriousness.

"Agli baar ki baat mat kijiye. Abhi aney ka karan bataiye - Itni ratri ko yahan kyun aaye hai?" she snapped while her eyes were flashing with open dare and fury.

Shivaal straightened and his expression softened slightly as he took in her fierce stance.

"Tum thik ho yeh dekhne ke liye. Aur shayad tumhare sath kuch baatein karne ke liye." he said, his voice lower now, almost sincere.

Samanvitha stared at him and caught off guard by his sudden change in tone. "Humse baat karne ke liye? Wo bhi ye samay chuna hai?"

Shivaal smirked again, his enigmatic eyes holding hers. "Raat ka samay gehra hota hai, Rajkumari"

Samanvitha's brows furrowed deeply as she said, her voice laced with sarcasm, "To shayad tum bhool rahe ho.... Shivaal Samaiyar, ki Rajdhara rajya ka Yuvraj yahan bandi hai. Na ki shair pe aya hai"

Shivaal's ears tingled the way she said his name in one breathe.

His smirk didn't falter; if anything, it deepened. He took a slow step toward her, the dim moonlight reflecting off his sharp features.

"Shivaal ko bhulne ki aadat nahi hai, Rajkumari... ya.... Yuvraj, jo bhi tum khud ko kehna pasand karti ho." His voice was too deep while he looked into her amber eyes.

Her grip on the copper pot tightened and her jaw clenched as she stood her ground.

"Hum nahi jante tum humse kya chahte ho lekin ek baat hum yaad dila dete hai ki hum bandi ho sakte hain, par apni shaan nahi khona seekha. Ishliye aadhi raat ko yahan akar tumne accha nahi kiya" she said coldly.

Shivaal tilted his head slightly, his gaze never wavering from her fiery eyes. She did not like to see his face in the middle of the night.

It was prohibited to meet a man at night. She did not want anyone to point at her. It was her strict rule to stay away from men and maintain a safe distance from them. Even when she grew up between the men and think, act and behave like the a man.

"Shan ka maamla toh samajh gaya, Par ek baat samjh jao, Rajkumari. Tum ab mere mahal mein ho, mere niyam ke tahat, aur Shivaal ki baat ko koi kaate ya naa mane, Shivaal ko ye pasand nahi" he said softly and his tone was almost mocking.

She stepped closer while her anger was flaring. She understood that he was talking about the materialistic things, food, medicine, clothes and those maids she didn't accept.

It was his command and she did not accept it.

"Aur tumhare niyam yahan hamare swabhimaan ko tod nahi sakte, Samaiyar. Kyunki Gayasen ab bhi wahi hain jo hum hamesha se the - Rajdhara ke Yuvraj, apne rajya ke gaurav ka pratik."

The tension between them was palpable, her defiance clashing with his control.

For a moment, neither moved, their gazes locked in a silent battle of wills.

Shivaal finally chuckled softly and his chuckling sound sent a chill down her spine.

"Achha hai. Yeh junoon hi tumhe alag banata hai, Rajkumari Samanvitha," he said and her name rolling off his tongue like a challenge.

Her heart drummed as she looked straight at his face.

"Lekin yaad rakhna... junoon aur zid mein ek rekha hoti hai. Aur wo rekha todna mujhe aata hai."

Shivaal said, and a straight and clear threat was visible in his words.

Samanvitha's heart pounded, but she refused to let him see her fear.

"Toh tumhe bata dete hai, Senapati Shivaal, ki hum us rekha ko jodna aur badalna bhi jante hain." she said sharply and her words ignited a storm in his chest.

"Tumne bhojan, vastra, shringar, aushadhi tak ko mana kiya. Bhoomi par sona pasand kar rahi ho lekin saahi bistar par nahi," Shivaal said, his voice low and controlled, though the fire in his eyes betrayed the rage simmering within.

Samanvitha remained silent while her gaze was drifting away and refused to meet his piercing stare.

His jaw tightened as he took a step closer. "Theek hai," he continued, his tone turning colder, "toh aaj se tumhe koi bhojan, vastra, shringar, aushadhi aur bistar nahi milega."

Her eyes snapped back to his, a flicker of shock crossing her face, but she quickly masked it with defiance.

"Bandi ho, Bandi ki tarah hi jeevan jeena padega." He declared with finality as his voice was as hard as steel.

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

Samanvitha's fists clenched and her pride and resilience refused to crumble under his dominance, even as her heart raced with anger and unease.

"Sainikon! Ishi chhan is bandi ko kalkothari mein dala jaye," Shivaal's voice boomed with authority while his piercing gaze swept over the soldiers standing nearby.

Samanvitha's eyes widened momentarily, but she quickly masked her shock with a fierce glare as her pride was refusing to bow.

Shivaal turned sharply as his cape was swishing behind him as his long strides echoed through the chamber.

Without sparing her another glance, he exited, leaving her standing in the cold grandeur of the Sheesh Mahal as the weight of his command was sinking in.

The soldiers hesitated for a moment, glancing at each other before stepping toward her.

Samanvitha straightened her posture while her head held high and refused to show an ounce of fear.

"Le chalo. Yuvraj taiyyar hai"

Her heart raced, but her resolve was unshaken. If she was to be thrown into the darkness of the karagrah, she vowed to emerge stronger, unbroken, and ready to fight once more.

....

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ShineeSunshine ❤️