ᴅɪʟ ᴋɪ ɴᴀʏɪ ᴅʜᴀᴅᴋᴀɴ

c h a p t e r 3

In the grand hall of the Rajputhana palace, Vikram, adorned in regal attire, sat upon his throne, surrounded by his advisors, their voices echoing off the ornate walls as they debated the fate of the conquered kingdom of Paudhagarh. Vaibhav and the others offered their perspectives, some advocating for a renaming to solidify their dominance, while others argued for keeping its name intact as a symbol of their conquest.

As the discussion unfurled like the delicate petals of a flower, Vikram's keen eyes swept across the expansive hall, taking in every detail. He was well aware of the return of the remainder of his army, led by none other than the esteemed general, whose triumphant arrival had echoed through the corridors mere hours ago. Which is why, the absence of his childhood friend, whose expertise in matters of conquest and plunder was unparalleled, stirred Vikram's suspicions. Yet, he set aside his concerns momentarily, choosing to focus on the pressing matters before him.

Just as the decision to maintain Paudhagarh's name was settled, Suraj, the messenger, stepped forward with a scroll in hand, seeking permission to present the gathered data and spoils from the conquered lands. Vikram's narrowed eyes betrayed his caution as he awaited the general's delayed arrival, a nagging sense of unease settling over him amidst the grandeur of the royal chamber. With a gesture, he signaled for Suraj to proceed, though his mind remained preoccupied with the mystery of his friend's absence.

Surat's voice rang out, listing the spoils and resources garnered from the conquest of Paudhagarh. Each item spoken was a testament to their victory: gold gleaming in abundance, horses standing strong in the stables, craftsmen and farmers now under their banner. His recitation continued, voice steady despite the weight of his words. "As we speak, 56 healthy young boys are being enrolled into training camps, and 43 women, both widows and virgins, have been relocated to the servant quarters temporarily."

But as Surat reached the final item on the list, his voice faltered, and he paused, a frown creasing his brow. "Rajkumari Parwati Verma is..... is being held in the dungeons" he concluded, his discomfort evident as he folded the scroll in his hands.

"Parwati," Vikram murmured, the name rolling off his tongue with an air of indifference. "Will you not explain why she is in the dungeons?" he inquired, his tone betraying little emotion.

Surat swallowed visibly, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead as he struggled to find the right words. "Maharaj, I-I..." he stuttered, his voice trailing off under the weight of Vikram's scrutiny.

But before Surat could offer a response, Vikram's patience wore thin, his temper flaring at the apparent insubordination. "Who put her in the dungeons!?" he demanded, his voice rising with authority, a stark reminder to his men that disobedience would not be tolerated under his rule.

The general choose that moment to make his entrance into the throne room, his presence commanding attention despite his slow and unsteady gait, a result of his lingering wound. Vikram, rose from his throne, striding purposefully towards his friend, concern etched on his features as he reached out to grasp a shoulder.

"Who dared to strike you, Ajay?" Vikram asked, his gaze fixed on the bandaged wound.

Ajay's response came through clenched teeth, the pain evident in his strained voice. "That woman, Parwati," he muttered, his words heavy with accusation.

"Parwati" Vikram echoed, his tone laden with hatred as memories of her stoic demeanor in the face of her husband's demise flooded his mind. Anger simmered beneath the surface as he clenched his fists, his grip tightening on Ajay's shoulder.

"I sent her to the dungeons for her crime, Vikram," Ajay explained softly, mistaking the fury in Vikram's eyes for condemnation directed at him. "Did I do anything wrong?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Vikram released his hold and patted Ajay's shoulder reassuringly. "You did the right thing, brother," he affirmed, before retracing his steps to the throne, his mind ablaze with thoughts of retribution against the woman who dared to defy them.

Leaning back against the grandeur of his throne, Vikram issued his decree with an air of authority that brooked no dissent. "See to it that the young recruits are nourished and honed into formidable warriors. I demand nothing short of excellence in our ranks."

His gaze swept across the assembled advisors, each meeting his stare with a mixture of deference and apprehension. With unwavering determination, Vikram laid out his directives without hesitation. "The widows shall find refuge within the servant quarters, while the virgins shall be auctioned off to the brothels to serve their purpose. As for the Rajkumari, let her face the consequences of her crimes within the confines of our palace dungeons."

A palpable tension hung in the air as Vikram challenged any who dared to oppose his edicts. Yet, none dared to speak against him, their silence a testament to the power he wielded. With a wave of dismissal, Vikram rose from his throne, his regal demeanor unyielding as he departed the hall, leaving behind a lingering aura of authority and resolve.

~✦✼✦✼✦~

After being treated by the medic, the general had woken up to find Parwati tied to a tree, where she had spent the entire night. He had sneered down at her, questioning why she had shouldered the blame for Titli as well, and Parwati could only plead with him to leave Titli out of it, explaining that the young woman had acted only to protect her queen. But her pleas had fell on deaf ears as the general, with a dismissive chuckle, had told her, that Titli would be leading a life of slavery regardless of his involvement. His tone had then turned sinister, as he had expressed his intent to exact revenge on Parwati instead, for being the first to challenge him.

So, Parwati now laid trembling on the cold concrete floor of her prison cell, as the memory of the general's forceful grip on her chin sent shivers down her spine. His haunting whisper, "I'm going to enjoy breaking you" echoed in her mind as she tried to push away the fear that threatened to consume her.

With a heavy sigh, Parwati glanced outside her cell, meeting the eyes of the other prisoners who eyed her with a mixture of curiosity and lust. Though she was grateful to not have a cell-mate for now, she couldn't shake the unease of how long that solitude would last. Locked away in the palace dungeons by the general's order, Parwati could only hope that her new king would be just and fair enough to grant her a trial before finalising her punishment.

Later that night, Parwati stirred from her fitful sleep and noticed a shift in the prison guards. The new nighttime sentry outside her cell was young, barely older than herself, and she observed as he frowned disapprovingly at her expensive attire before returning to his post without uttering a word.

"Does the Maharaj know I've been locked up here?" Parwati questioned the guard, but he remained silent, offering no response.

But her answer came soon after, as the general staggered into view, leaning heavily on his right foot. Parwati pulled herself into a sitting position, meeting his smirk with an appalled gaze. "You're at my mercy now, Rajkumari" he taunted, his words dripping with disdain for her former title. And as the young guard stationed outside her cell inhaled sharply, Parwati realized with a sinking feeling that none of them knew she was the former queen of Paudhagarh. Alone in her predicament, she understood that her past status offered no protection within the confines of her prison walls.

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ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠᴏᴛᴇ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ
ɪᴛ ᴋᴇᴇᴘs ᴍᴇ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴀᴛᴇᴅ.
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ!