Words - once spoken can only be forgiven. The irreversible nature of them have always made the oldest caution the young lest they carry the regret like their ancestors. Alas! No one learns this lesson until it is too late.
(Blurb to be edited)
Vāc i...
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The study was dark, save for the soft flicker of a dying oil lamp. The scent of old parchment and ink lingered in the air, mingling with the faint trace of sandalwood-a fragrance Atulya favored. Everything in this room was meticulously arranged, yet tonight, an intruder moved through it, careful and deliberate.
A figure, dressed in the muted, coarse fabric of a maid, stepped past the threshold. The veil draped over her head was not meant for modesty-it was for concealment. Leelavati's breath was steady, but beneath her calm exterior, her heart pounded. She had only moments before the guards made their next round.
Her fingers traced along the wooden desk, feeling for the slightest irregularity. Atulya was careful, but careful men had habits, and habits could be read. Her eyes flitted to the cluster of neatly stacked scrolls-official missives, trade agreements, reports. All expected. She shuffled through the contents, careful to place anything back to its place that was pulled out. Again nothing.
For one morbid moment, Leelavati wondered why she hadn't involved herself more into these matters. Perhaps then she wouldn't be here clueless, scanning over records and documents.
Where could it be? A ledger? A letter? Something. Anything she could get her hands on. Anything she could use to protect Ahim and her son. Her husband seemed already a lost cause while her father was apathetic- everything rested on her shoulders.
She scanned the room for any clues when her eyes fell on a dent on a cupboard. Despite its innocent appearance, the dent had definitely occurred due to too much pressure being put at the ply at the back of the cupboard. Heart at her throat, ahe tried to pry the piece open but only resulted in getting splinter in her finger. Hastily, she rubbed away any blood, her mind too occupied to focus on the pain. She tried once again
There, slightly misaligned from the rest, was a single letter inside a ledger, its edges worn from repeated handling.
With practiced ease, she unfolded it.
The message was short, written in a cipher she had seen before. But she could still extract its meaning. The words were vague yet unmistakable-a directive, an instruction from someone. It was however the symbol that caught her eye. She pulled out the ledger, flipping through its contents and what she found sent chill down her spine.
Leelavati's breath caught. She had expected secrets, but this was deeper than she had anticipated.
She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the parchment. Who could she trust? Jatashya? No-he refused to save his own son. Abhijishya? The thought lingered. She was sharp, unpredictable and dangerous in her own way. But could she be an ally? Maharani Draupadi was out of the question. Her temper was no less than the legendary fire she was born from.
Uncertainty crept into Leelavati's mind. She had found something valuable, but a blade in the wrong hands could turn against its wielder.
She slipped the letter into the folds of her garments and placed the ledger back covering it with the ply. A single letter would not be missed. Quickly, she made her way back into her quarters. Whatever it be, she would not let her brother and son sink in the quick sand of her husband's ambition. She would make sure of it.
