The Cursed Princess of Suryagarh: Book 1

40. Bad news

Jagjeevan Singh was busy enjoying his day off, and he chose to spend the tranquil morning inside his home in the staff quarters. His wife had gone off to meet her mother, and she had taken their five-year-old daughter along. Much to Jagjeevan Singh's pleasure, they weren't going to return home soon. That meant he could peacefully prop his legs on the centre table in the drawing room, put on a nice Rajasthani movie, and sip his morning cup of tea.

With the freshly brewed tea strained into a cup and placed on the table, he propped his feet on it—something his wife despised—and turned the television on. It was muted, and before he could unmute it, the doorbell rang.

He groaned at the intrusion. If this was Balwant Singh, asking him to cover one more day of his duties, Jagjeevan Singh was going to revolt. As much as he adored the princess, she always found ways to give him the slip outside of the fort, and he didn't wish to be on the receiving end of the prince's ire that morning.

With a grimace on his face, rolling the ends of his thick moustache, he trudged up to the door, readying his mind to scold Balwant Singh for always heaping more responsibilities on him, but when the wooden panels swung open, his anger ebbed away, and he was highly surprised because of the person standing at his doorstep.

"Your Highness?" His eyes widened, and he was rendered a stuttering mess. "Pl... wh-wha... Pl... Please come in, Your Highness." He bowed his head and gave way for the royal to enter.

The royal walked past the man and glimpsed around as his lazy gait took him to the centre table. A small and stuffy living room with a television set embedded in an entertainment cabinet and a very old and musty sofa set. Bare walls. Dark corridors leading to the other sections of the house. "Nice place you have got here. Neat."

"Thank you, Your Highness." Jagjeevan Singh grinned and shut the door. "Any special reason you came to the humble abode of this servant?" He bowed deeply again.

"Hmmm." The royal heaved a sigh before his indolent fingers curled around the remote of the television. "I think it's time."

Jagjeevan Singh tilted his head to the side in puzzlement. "F-For?"

The television was unmuted, and the volume was increased to the maximum, piercing the servant's eardrums and coercing him into shutting his ears with his palms.

"It's time... for you to die, Jagjeevan Singh."

***

Aarush was on a recce around the fort with Aakarsh and Jagdish in tow. The high priest had finished his daily duties of offering a veneration at the oldest temple inside the fort and was back to being an advisor and counsellor to the crowned prince as he absorbed the scenes of devastation and destruction from the previous evening.

The prince peered at the demolished wall on the western edges of the fort. The bastions and fortifications were a part of the original layout from 900 years ago, and these structures were a matter of tremendous pride for the Chauhans. It was a living legacy of what power the royal family held once upon a time and the sheer size of the city that once thrived inside the citadel. Hence, watching the wall crumbled and broken, the stones lolling on the hard ground and the massive cracks developed on the adjoining walls that were somehow still intact were a source of immense discomfiture for Aarush. The enemies had managed to demolish an entire section of the ancient wall with their explosives.

The rest of the fort had sustained extensive damages too. The fountain at the resort's foyer had developed cracks, the old temple that Jagdish just came from had one of the stairwells crushed to dust, there were numerous potholes across the roads of the town, and many citizens complained of their ceilings having formed crevices and ruptures.