Empire of Ash and Silk

Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Duel

Two weeks had passed, and the Mughal delegation settled comfortably into the palace, enjoying the gracious hospitality of Bengal. Each day was filled with shared meals, quiet exchanges in the hallways, and, above all, the budding friendship between Aarav, Zahir, and Azeem. They roamed the palace together, explored the gardens, and practiced swordplay each morning under the watchful eyes of their guards.

When the Peshwa finally arrived, he was received with due ceremony. In the grand hall, the courtiers of Bengal and the Mughal council met to formalize their alliance. Scrolls were unfurled and meticulously scribed with agreements—a contract that bound their kingdoms by terms of trade, mutual protection, and diplomatic cooperation. For the adults, it was a momentous occasion, one that could shape the future of both lands.

But for the young ones, that day was as ordinary as any other—filled with morning swordplay and shared laughter. In the palace courtyard, the boys were locked in their daily practice, training with wooden swords under the gaze of palace guards. Laxmi and Anaya watched with rapt attention, occasionally cheering or laughing when one of the boys landed a particularly well-aimed strike.

But watching wasn't enough, not for Laxmi.

"I've had enough of standing around!" she exclaimed, her voice rising over the clatter of wood against wood. She marched forward, her arms crossed defiantly. "Aarav, I want to practice too! You boys don't have a monopoly on swordplay."

Aarav smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Oh really? You think you could hold your own against us?"

Laxmi narrowed her eyes. "I know I could."

Emboldened by her friend's challenge, Anaya felt a surge of courage. She stepped forward, looking her older brother straight in the eye. "And I could beat you, Aarav. Easily."

The courtyard went still, the boys exchanging amused glances.

"You think you can beat me?" Aarav chuckled, eyeing her from head to toe. "Alright, Rajkumari Anaya. Prove it."

Anaya picked up a wooden sword, testing its weight in her hand. She positioned herself, recalling everything she had learned from watching Aarav and the guards over the years. Across from her, Aarav took a mockingly relaxed stance, grinning as if to say this was all a game.

But Anaya was determined.

The onlookers gathered around, sensing the tension in the air. Aarav moved first, his sword sweeping towards her with a playful ease. Anaya blocked his strike, her feet steady on the ground, her arms strong. She shifted her weight, parrying his next move and countering with a swift thrust.

Aarav's eyes widened in surprise as her wooden sword clashed against his with unexpected force. They circled each other, exchanging blows with increasing intensity, Aarav's playful smile fading as he realized Anaya wasn't holding back.

The duel felt timeless—a moment of pure challenge and exhilaration that marked Anaya's spirit. With a final, strategic move, she knocked Aarav's sword out of his hand, the wooden blade clattering to the ground as the onlookers burst into laughter and applause. Laxmi clapped her hands, her eyes gleaming with pride.

"See, Aarav? She can beat you!" Laxmi cheered, rushing forward to give Anaya a hug.

Years passed, and the playful rivalry between Anaya and Aarav grew into a fierce sibling bond, strengthened by countless moments like that first duel. They spent every Durga Puja and every royal celebration together, with Zahir, Azeem, and Laxmi by their side, creating memories that wove their lives together.

Now 17, Anaya stood tall and poised, no longer the little girl who had been content to stand on the sidelines. In her hand, she held a real sword, its blade sharp and gleaming under the morning sun. Aarav, five years her senior, faced her with a look of determination, his own sword raised. They had sparred together every year, but today, for the first time, they would duel with real weapons.

"Are you ready, little sister?" Aarav taunted, though his eyes held respect.

Anaya's gaze was steady. "I was born ready."

They moved in unison, each step and swing precise and calculated. Anaya's heart raced as they clashed, the swords singing as metal met metal. She matched Aarav's strikes with a confidence born of years of practice, weaving through his defenses and testing his skill.

The world around them blurred, the audience's applause fading into the background as they sparred. Aarav pressed forward, attempting to overwhelm her with his strength, but Anaya was agile, dodging his strikes and countering with swift, precise movements. She saw an opening and took it, her sword tapping against his wrist—a clear victory.

Aarav laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine! You win, Anaya. Again."

Around them, the spectators clapped, with Laxmi and Mira cheering the loudest. Anaya smiled triumphantly, lowering her sword and giving a small bow.

"Once again, you're no match for me, Aarav," she teased, and he gave her a playful shove.

Laxmi stepped forward, her eyes bright with joy. "I'm just glad that after all these years, we still get to come together for our festivities."

Mira nodded in agreement. "Durga Puja has brought us together once again, and there's no place I'd rather be than here with all of you."

The group shared a quiet, joyful moment, their hearts filled with the warmth of friendship and family. The celebrations would continue, and new challenges would come, but for now, they were together—and that was all that mattered.