ᴅɪʟ ᴋɪ ɴᴀʏɪ ᴅʜᴀᴅᴋᴀɴ

c h a p t e r 2

Parwati had been ushered off the wagon alongside the other women what felt like hours ago. Now, amidst the chaotic flurry of activity, she sat quietly observing her companions dutifully carrying out their assigned task, of preparing dinner. Some were still grappling with the anguish of losing their husbands, their faces etched with sorrow, while others trembled with fear of the unknown that awaited them in enemy territory. As the soldiers bustled about, erecting tents and preparing the campsite for the night ahead, Parwati couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation settle over her. The men, weary from battle, spoke in hushed tones about the long journey that lay ahead—a grueling 9-hour trek on horseback to Rajputhana.

Parwati knew they were, Maharaja Vikram Singh Rathore's men. Though she had never laid eyes on him, the tales of his brutality echoed through her mind, instilling a deep-seated fear within her. The mere mention of his name sent shivers down her spine, for she knew all too well of his infamous deeds, including the harrowing tale of how he had ruthlessly ended his own wife's life. Parwati pondered whether he walked among his men at this very moment, or if his shadow loomed over them from afar. The uncertainty gnawed at her, fueling her dread of what fate awaited her under his rule. She offered silent prayers for any woman who may have unwittingly become the king's second bride, knowing all too well the horrors that awaited her behind closed doors—the same horrors Parwati would have faced had her kingdom emerged victorious in battle.

Brushing aside her thoughts, Parwati glanced around the bustling campsite, her heart pounding with the irrational fear that Maharaja Vikram Singh Rathore's piercing gaze might be fixed upon her at that very moment. She scolded herself for entertaining such terrifying notions, yet found it impossible to banish him from her mind. Her surroundings offered little respite from her torment, as every corner of the camp seemed to whisper his name, reminding her of the perilous grip he held over her fate. The memory of her late husband, though momentarily comforting, quickly dissipated, replaced by the grim realization that she had merely exchanged one form of torment for another. Still, Parwati clung to the belief that no torment could surpass the hellish existence she had endured before, finding solace in the certainty that she had already weathered the worst that life could offer.

"Rani' Sa, what do you think they are going to do to us?" A woman next to Parwati posed the haunting question.

Parwati, recognizing the woman before her as Titli from the palace kitchens, couldn't suppress a pang of irony at being addressed as "Rani' Sa" a title she had never truly possessed. She glanced up to find other women turning expectantly towards her, their eyes brimming with hope and desperation. Parwati grimaced, realizing that they still looked up to her as their leader, their queen, even in the face of defeat.

With a heavy sigh, Parwati understood that she couldn't afford to sugarcoat the truth or offer false hope to her companions. They needed a stark dose of reality, however grim it may be. Summoning her resolve, she met their gaze and delivered her sobering response. "Your young boys will likely be forced into the army or face execution. As for us women, we may be subjected to unspeakable horrors—rape, murder, or being sold into slavery. We must prepare ourselves for the worst."

Gasps of horror rippled through the group, interrupted by the clatter of a dropped spoon as one woman recoiled in shock, only to be met with a sharp reprimand from a passing guard. "Hey, watch it!"

"Count your lucky stars and pray they find use for maids and servants," Parwati remarked with a resigned shrug, her gaze drifting upwards to the vast expanse of the starry sky. With a heavy heart, she whispered into the night, "I'm sorry" her words carrying the weight of their uncertain future on the gentle breeze.

~✦✼✦✼✦~

As the night settled over the camp, most of the women and children retired to their assigned tents, seeking refuge from the darkness that enveloped them. Even some of the weary soldiers sought solace in the embrace of sleep, their exhaustion outweighing the allure of the crackling bonfire.