Empire of Ash and Silk

Chapter 29

Chapter 29: The Weight of the Crown

Zahir's heart tightened as the gates of his father's palace loomed ahead, each step heavier than the last. He had arrived at Delhi, the city where his future would be decided. The heavy, oppressive air of the palace seemed to mirror the storm brewing inside him. As his horse carried him toward the courtyard, Zahir was met with a sight that only deepened the sense of loss.

His mother, Queen Nur Jahan,  stood at the palace entrance, her eyes red from weeping. Behind her, Zahir's three other stepmothers lingered in the background, their faces marked by a mixture of sorrow and anticipation. Among them stood Aarav's half-brother, Shahbaz, who had always been a shadow in Zahir's life. His smile was too wide, his posture too perfect as he approached.

"Welcome home, brother," Shahbaz said, his voice smooth but laced with an underlying tension. He placed a hand on Zahir's shoulder, leaning in a little too close, an act of warmth that felt unnatural.

Zahir stared at him, feeling the weight of his half-brother's eyes on him. "It's good to be back," he replied, his words as cordial as he could muster, despite the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. He nodded curtly at Shahbaz but kept his distance, a silent understanding passing between them—the throne was his, and Shahbaz would not get it without a fight.

As Zahir dismounted, his mother stepped forward, her delicate features pinched with grief. The moment she embraced him, the tears flowed freely. "Zahir, my son," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I never wanted this for you, not so soon. I never thought I would see the day when your father was no longer with us. You must be strong now... for the sake of the kingdom."

Zahir held her tightly, feeling the weight of her sorrow mix with his own. It felt surreal to be here, to have the title of Sultan thrust upon him when Malik had barely been gone long enough for his death to feel real.

"I will do what must be done, Mother," Zahir promised, though the words felt hollow. He didn't yet know how he would rise to this challenge. He only hoped he could be half the ruler his father had been.

As the family shared their quiet moments of grief, the Royal Council assembled nearby. The men and women who governed the kingdom were already discussing the immediate steps to take. Sardar Aslam, the head of the council, stepped forward, his dark eyes scrutinizing Zahir carefully.

"Your Highness," Aslam said, bowing respectfully. "The time has come for preparations to begin. The people will expect the coronation to take place immediately after your father's funeral. The transition must be swift. We cannot afford delay."

Zahir swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wasn't ready for the responsibility of ruling, not like this. But there was no turning back now.

"We will begin immediately," Zahir replied, his voice firm despite the uncertainty gnawing at him. "The funeral and the coronation are the priorities. Let us not delay any longer."

The council nodded in agreement, and Aslam continued, "The king's body will be kept in the royal chambers until the funeral rites can be performed. We will need to organize the procession and invite the emissaries from the neighboring states. Word has already spread that Raja Bhaskar is on his way. His presence will be crucial."

At the mention of Bhaskar, Zahir felt a small flicker of hope. Bhaskar's arrival meant that he would have his allies nearby, that perhaps his support would not waver in the face of the challenges ahead.

On the Road to Delhi

Meanwhile, back at Bhaskar's palace, the preparations for departure were underway. Raja Bhaskar stood on the balcony, his eyes tracing the horizon. His mind was already calculating the route, his thoughts turning toward the political landscape that awaited him in Delhi.

Beside him, Rani Meera, his wife, was adjusting the final details of their journey, ensuring everything was in order. Anaya, eager and restless, stood at the doorway, waiting for the moment they could leave.

"I can't wait to get to Delhi," Anaya said, her voice filled with excitement despite the solemn occasion. "Not only have I never been, but I also want to be there for Zahir. He'll need me."

Her father, Bhaskar, turned to her with a knowing look. "Zahir will have to face this on his own, Anaya. It's a heavy burden, but he is the Sultan now."

"I know, Father," Anaya replied, her gaze wistful. "But he's still my friend. I've seen the weight of this crown on him already. I don't want him to feel like he's alone."

"We all have our roles to play in this," Bhaskar said quietly. "And for now, we need to stay focused on the journey. The people will need their king, and we need to ensure Zahir's claim remains solid."

Anaya nodded, but her thoughts were already with Zahir. She had seen the conflict in his eyes when they spoke last. The pressure of leadership was something none of them had truly understood until now.

As they began their journey, they encountered people along the road—soldiers from different provinces, merchants traveling for trade, villagers eager to know of the king's arrival. The roads were bustling with activity, and Anaya couldn't help but be awed by the vastness of it all.

"I can't believe we're actually on our way," Anaya whispered to herself. "Everything is changing."

Her father, hearing her, placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Things always change, Anaya. The only thing we can do is ensure those changes are for the better."

Back at Delhi's Palace

In the palace, Zahir and Aarav stood in front of the royal throne room. Zahir felt the cool stone beneath his feet, but his mind was elsewhere. His father's funeral would take place soon. His coronation would follow. His entire life had been leading up to this moment, and yet, nothing could prepare him for the reality of it.

Aarav, standing by his side, gave him an encouraging smile. "You can do this, Zahir."

Zahir nodded but remained silent. The door to the throne room creaked open, signaling that the council had arrived. His first real test was about to begin.