𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧

55⚚ Ruhi?!

Author POV:

Veer's voice oozed with smug satisfaction as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled as if he were narrating some glorious legend, not the destruction of lives and legacies.

"I planted men," he said proudly, "inside both Kshathriya and Rajvanshi kingdoms. Quiet ones. Loyal only to me. Spies dressed as ministers, guards, even farmers—people no one would ever suspect."

"I waited patiently, years even, until they earned trust from your noble courts. I made sure they blended in like shadows—because shadows, dear Amaira," he smirked, "are the first thing people forget to fear."

Amaira said nothing, but her blood boiled beneath her skin. Her fists clenched tighter in her lap.

"I was the one who stopped the river," Veer said, shrugging like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"The lifeline of your kingdom. I made your father believe that Ekansh had betrayed him—cut the water supply out of jealousy or arrogance. And he believed me, of course he did. Because I was his friend. His trusted ally."

Her heart twisted painfully at the thought. Her father had been foolish, yes. But he had been played. All of them had.

"And Ekansh?" Veer laughed dryly. "He never even knew your father had come to visit him. I bought off his head guard—his most trusted man—and fed him lies to feed back to your father."

"'He's too busy.' 'Come another time.' Over and over. While Ekansh waited in his court for a friend who never arrived. Beautiful, isn't it?" His voice dripped with venom.

"A tale of miscommunication, carefully orchestrated by me. I didn't just separate two kingdoms, Young lady. I severed a bond of brotherhood."

Amaira's jaw clenched.

"And in that chaos," he continued, "while the two greatest rulers of our age stewed in betrayal and confusion, I made my move. I began smuggling. Illegal trade routes. Weapons. Rare stones. Even lives. Right under their noses."

"I looted the royal kingdom and funneled its treasures into my own. I corrupted ministers, bribed guards, and made sure every wrong move they made led back to each other."

He leaned forward, grinning like the devil himself. "They say war is a game of power. I say it's a game of perception."

"You break perception—you win everything."

Amaira's entire being trembled with barely-contained fury. He had orchestrated it all. The drought. The distance. The betrayal.

The bloody foundation upon which this twisted man now sat—built from her mother's pain, her father's broken trust, and a bond her husband had every right to inherit and protect.

But Veer didn't see any of that.

All he saw was victory.

And he had no idea... just how fast it was about to crumble.

Amaira's stomach churned with unease. The depth of Veer's cunning and cruelty was staggering. He had orchestrated the downfall of kingdoms, betrayed friendships, and caused untold suffering—all for his insatiable thirst for power.

"But your mother was smart," Veer said, his voice tinged with resentment. "She gathered evidence and sent it to Sindhu through letters. Ekansh found out and was furious. He wanted to declare war on me."

"A war on me?" He chuckled, a sound that made Amaira's blood boil.

She closed her eyes, fighting back tears. The pain of her mother's sacrifice, the betrayal of her father, the destruction of her kingdom—it was almost too much to bear. But she knew she had to stay strong, to honor their memories by seeing this through.