A Brother's Embrace and a Father's Lie
The morning after the Surya Mela, a soft, golden light filled the guest wing of the Suryapuri palace. The time for departure had come. Devansh and Mrinal stood in the main courtyard, their chariot ready.
Devansh bowed respectfully to Maharaja Viraj. "We must take your leave now, Maharaj. We have seen the magnificent Surya Mela and have been honored by your hospitality. It is time for us to return to Chandrapuri."
Mrinal's gaze drifted towards Virendra, who stood with a composed yet noticeably attentive expression. Devansh's own eyes met Aaditya's, a silent conversation passing between them in that single glance.
Aaditya nodded, his voice firm but carrying a subtle weight. "Of course, Rajkumar Devansh. We will meet again soon."
"Absolutely," Devansh replied, a gentle smile touching his lips. "You must all visit our kingdom, Chandrapuri. We will be waiting."
Maharaja Viraj beamed. "Certainly, certainly! It would be our pleasure."
"Then, we should be on our way," Devansh said, turning to leave.
Mrinal offered a final, warm smile to Virendra, who returned it with a slight, respectful bow of his head. Aaditya stepped forward. "I will escort you to the gates."
As they walked ahead of the others, Aaditya moved closer to Devansh, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur meant only for his ears. "Dev... take care of yourself." The words were simple, but the intensity in his fiery eyes conveyed a depth of concern that went beyond mere politeness.
Devansh's serene composure softened. He looked at Aaditya, a silent understanding flowing between them. He gave a slow, deliberate nod. "I will. And you... be safe, Adi."
They reached the chariot. Mrinal, along with her handmaidens, ascended. With a final exchange of glances filled with unspoken promises and newfound connections, the chariot bearing the moon-and-star standard of Chandrapuri rolled out of the Sun Palace's gates and began its journey home.
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Back in Chandrapuri, the royal family was reunited with open arms. Maharaja Rohit and Maharani Revati enveloped their children in a warm embrace.
"How was your journey, my dears?" the Maharani asked, her eyes scanning their faces.
"It was wonderful, Ma," Mrinal replied, her eyes holding a new, thoughtful light.
Maharaja Rohit smiled, relieved. "Good, good. Now, you both must be tired. Go, rest in your chambers. The night is upon us." Devansh and Mrinal retired to their respective rooms, the events of the festival and the quiet moments of connection playing in their minds as they drifted into sleep.
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In Himgiri, the atmosphere was thick with a different kind of anticipation. Prince Yuvraj, his heart a turbulent sea of the secret he had discovered, was summoned to his father's chamber late in the evening.
Maharaja Rohan's face was unreadable, a mask of royal authority. "Yuvraj, there is something important we must discuss with you tomorrow."
Yuvraj's blood ran cold, but he kept his voice even. "Yes, Pitashree? What is it?"
"Tomorrow, in the royal court, a significant revelation will be made. Be prepared." The King's tone offered no further clues.
Yuvraj bowed his head, hiding the storm in his eyes. "As you command, Pitashree." He retired to his room, but sleep was a distant stranger. The words from the hidden letter burned behind his eyelids. 'A child... a boy named Karan... I cannot acknowledge him...' What game was his father playing?
The next morning, the Raj Sabha of Himgiri was packed. The air hummed with curiosity. Maharaja Rohan sat upon the Sun Throne, Yuvraj standing stiffly at his right side.
"Noble subjects of Himgiri," the Maharaja's voice boomed through the hall. "For many years, due to certain... circumstances, I kept one of my sons hidden from the world. His education and upbringing are now complete. The time for secrecy is over."
A wave of shocked whispers rippled through the court. Yuvraj felt his nails dig into his palms.
"Let him come forward," the King commanded.
The grand doors of the hall opened. A young man walked in. He was tall, with a quiet dignity, and bore a striking, unsettling resemblance to a younger Maharaja Rohan. His eyes, however, held a gentle humility unlike Yuvraj's confident blaze. The court fell into a stunned silence.
Yuvraj's world tilted. It was true. Every word of the letter was true. He stared at his father, his mind screaming with betrayal. Why are you lying? Why say he was 'hidden' when you abandoned him? Why this charade?
Maharaja Rohan continued, his voice echoing in the silent hall. "This is Karan. My son. And from today, he shall reside in the palace as a Prince of Himgiri."
All eyes turned to Yuvraj. This was the moment of test. Could the rejected prince accept a rival?
Yuvraj took a deep breath, burying the maelstrom of hurt, anger, and confusion deep within. He forced his lips into a brilliant, convincing smile. He stepped forward and opened his arms.
"Karan!" he exclaimed, his voice dripping with brotherly warmth. "What is there to be upset about, Pitashree? We understand you must have had your reasons." He turned to Karan, pulling him into a tight, public embrace. "I am just happy to have found an older brother! Welcome home!"
Karan, seemingly overwhelmed by the gesture, returned the embrace tentatively. "Brother... I am also happy. I never dreamed..."
Yuvraj held the embrace for a moment longer, his face buried in Karan's shoulder so no one could see the cold, calculated fury in his eyes. When he pulled back, his smile was still perfectly in place. "Come, as the elder brother, you must guide me." He looked at the King. "Pitashree, let us all have a meal together today. A celebration for our reunited family!"
Maharaja Rohan's stern expression finally broke into a look of profound relief and joy. "A wonderful idea, my son! Let it be done!"
The court erupted in cheers, celebrating the King's wisdom and the princes' apparent brotherly love. As they walked out of the Sabha, Yuvraj with his arm draped casually over Karan's shoulders, the picture of fraternal harmony, no one could see the poison festering in Yuvraj's heart. He had played his part perfectly. But as he glanced at his father's pleased face, a single, chilling thought solidified in his mind.
You lied to your kingdom. You lied to me. You hid a son and now you parade him as a secret prince. You have made a fool of me for the last time, Pitashree. But its ok
The family meal was a lavish affair, filled with laughter and conversation expertly orchestrated by Yuvraj. But beneath the surface of this happy reunion, the first stone of a future rebellion had been laid.
The air in Maharaja Rohan's private study was heavy with the scent of old scrolls and beeswax. The King sat at his large, oaken desk, the weight of the day's revelations evident in the slight slump of his shoulders. The "successful" introduction of Karan had been emotionally draining.
A soft, almost soundless knock preceded the entrance of Mantri Shamsher. He glided into the room, his expression a mask of humble servitude.
"Pranipat, Maharaj," Shamsher said, bowing deeply.
"Rise, Mantri ji," Rohan said, looking up. "What brings you to me at this hour?"
"Maharaj, with your permission, I seek leave to visit the city of Mayapuri for a single day," Shamsher stated, his voice smooth as silk. "I wish to meet my younger brother. It has been many years."
Maharaja Rohan's brow furrowed slightly. Mayapuri? The name was a whisper, a place of legend spoken of in hushed tones, known for its mystics and secrets. He studied his minister. The request seemed simple, personal. After the emotional turmoil of the day, the idea of a minister tending to family ties felt almost comforting.
"Very well, Mantri ji," the King agreed, a trace of weariness in his voice. "Family is important. You have my permission. But..." he added, holding up a finger, "only for one day. The affairs of the kingdom cannot spare you for longer."
A glint of triumph, quickly veiled, shone in Shamsher's eyes. He bowed again, lower this time.
"As you command, Maharaj. I am grateful for your grace."
With those words, Mantri Shamsher turned and left the chamber, his footsteps silent on the marble floor. The moment the door clicked shut, a slow, calculated smile spread across his face, unseen by the King. The first pawn had been moved. The journey to Mayapuri was not for a familial reunion, but for a far more sinister purpose. The game was truly afoot.
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