When Aastha met Veer, she knew they had a connection.
However, the connection would be from two centuries ago, she never could have imagined.
A love story that remained unfulfilled, broken by evil, and destroyed to ashes - whose reference hide...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Where are we going?" Aastha asked, her brow furrowed as Saanvi led her toward the back wing of Shakti Mahal.
"You'll find out soon, jiji!" Saanvi replied with a grin, her voice light.
Aastha glanced around in confusion as they ventured deeper into the palace. The grandeur of the familiar halls faded, and they entered a dimly lit corridor. As they walked further, the palace's lavishness gave way to something more forgotten. Aastha caught glimpses of the sprawling golf course through the windows. It was private property reserved only for the privileged few. It had a separate entrance and exit, hidden away from the public eye.
When they reached a curve in the hallway, Aastha spotted the stonewalled entrance to the elephant stables at the end of the corridor. It had been years since she'd visited this side of the palace. The stables were rarely used, and there were talks of renovation that never saw the light of the day. Aastha tugged at Saanvi's arm, but she only raised an eyebrow in return. "Why are we here? Didn't you say there is a brunch party?" Aastha asked.
"Uffo! You ask too many questions, jiji! Just follow me," Saanvi said, exasperated.
Aastha sighed deeply, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn't fully process. She decided to silence them for now, focusing on her surroundings instead. The stables stood in solemn silence, their grand arches echoing a past long gone—of warriors who once rode elephants into battle.
As they moved past the stables, the corridor opened into a small training ground. The space was built with exclusive stones, and its domed roof created a sense of vastness. The room bathed in sunlight pouring through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, filling the air with a warm glow. One end of the ground connected to the corridor, while the other led to a small pathway that opened into one of the palace courtyards.
Every stone here was a witness of the past —the warriors, practicing their skills, preparing for battle, and teaching soldiers to control elephants and horses. The cracked stone floor was marked with the remnants of history—hoof prints, sword cuts, and fading footsteps, all of which seemed to tell the story of forgotten battles. The walls were adorned with intricate designs, and several portraits still hung, reminders of an era long gone.
As they walked down the corridor, Aastha stopped in front of one of the portraits. Saanvi, sensing the shift in Aastha's mood, halted beside her. The oil painting depicted a majestic elephant with a middle-aged woman sitting atop it. The woman exuded an air of pride and power, her expression both commanding and alluring. Nearby, several talwars were arranged neatly, leading up to the next portrait.
Aastha's gaze remained fixed on the painting, a sense of unease creeping over her. "What is it, jiji?" Saanvi asked, her frown deepening as she watched Aastha.
Aastha didn't answer immediately, her mind whirling. This painting wasn't from Roopgarh; she was certain of it. There was something about it—that tugged at her heart. The woman's face was blurred as the painting had slightly faded its luster long gone. Yet, it felt familiar, though Aastha couldn't place where she had seen her. The pride in her posture, the mysterious aura—it felt as if she were staring at someone who had once played a pivotal role in history, but whose story had long been forgotten.
