Barat

Sree’s POV:

I kept running until my breath failed me and I reached a deserted corner of the palace. There was an old balcony there from which all of Ashoknagar was visible. Down in the city, people were lighting lamps, but inside me, there was only darkness.

"Did you not look for me even once, Manveer?" I leaned my head against the wall. "Was the news of my death so comforting to you that you didn't even try to find out the truth once?"

I wiped my tears with my palm. I tied my disheveled hair tightly.I picked up the soil that had clung to my hands from outside the palace and applied it to my forehead like a tilak.

"You have chosen your 'Diya'... so now, this Princess Rajsree must also choose her new form."

I let my veil fall over my face again. Now I had to go back to Gurumata,I was on my way when I saw the palace soldiers opening the massive gates for the wedding procession to depart. The sound of the shehnai began to echo.

"Celebrate, Manveer, "Because this celebration is not of your wedding, but the beginning of your destruction."

the sound of the shehnai from the main courtyard grew louder. The drums began to beat. This was the signal that the Prince's wedding procession was about to depart.

I pulled my veil deep again and stood in a corner of the main gate, blending into the crowd.

Everywhere, people were chanting, "Victory to Rana Manveer Singh Chauhan!"

In the main courtyard stood a massive, pale-white elephant, adorned with gold and silver ornaments. It looked as towering and majestic as a mountain.

First, the royal priests performed the worship of the elephant, applying a vermilion tilak to its forehead and decking it with flower garlands. The entire atmosphere was filled with the scent of fragrant incense and the sound of the shehnai.

Then, Manveer descended the palace stairs. There was a new sense of pride in his every step. The Queen Mother stepped forward, holding a golden platter with flickering lamps. With deep affection, she performed the aarti for Manveer, applied the mark of victory on his forehead, and warded off the evil eye.

"Victory to Rana Manveer Singh Chauhan!" The sky echoed with the chants.

Manveer mounted the white elephant. His face held the same pride as that of a conqueror. The sound of the shehnai grew even louder and more powerful. The wedding procession slowly began to move out of the palace gates.

I noticed a large group of maidservants preparing to follow the procession, carrying wedding gifts and other materials to Bundelkhand.

This was the chance.

Avoiding Gurumata’s gaze, I pulled my veil even lower and stealthily joined the ranks of those maidservants. I took a heavy platter in my hands so that no one would suspect me.

The procession had now crossed the borders of Ashoknagar. The clouds of dust and the blare of the shehnai announced to every passing village that their future King was on his way to fetch his new Queen.

Walking amidst the crowd of maidservants, my feet began to ache, but the pain in my heart was far greater than that exhaustion. I looked up; Manveer, seated atop the elephant, was occasionally laughing and talking with his friends. That laugh... it was the same laugh I was once mesmerized by, but today, it was tearing me apart.

Along the way, we reached a dense forest where the procession was halted for a brief rest.

"Hey Kashi! Pick up this water pot and take it to the Prince," an older maidservant said to me. "He must be thirsty."

My throat went dry. What irony—the same Manveer for whom I had sacrificed myself , I was now carrying water for him as an anonymous servant. I bowed my head and reached the elephant with the water.

Manveer had dismounted and was standing under a massive banyan tree. He had pushed his wedding veil (sehra) back slightly. His face was glistening with perspiration.

As soon as I offered the glass of water, he took the glass, but his fingers brushed against mine. For a moment, it was as if time had stood still.

Manveer was about to say something when a general’s voice came from behind, "My Lord, the border of Bundelkhand is in sight. Princess Diya’s brothers are coming to welcome us."

Manveer abruptly pulled his hand away. as if he had turned his back not just on me, but on every memory and every bit of my love. He took a deep breath and, without looking at me again, moved toward his horse.

"Move quickly, everyone!" the maids shouted.

The procession picked up speed again. Now, from a distance, the torches of the Bundelkhand palace were visible.

I kept walking behind the maidservants, my head bowed, but my eyes measuring every movement. At the main gates of the Bundelkhand palace, the torches blazed so brightly it was as if the entire sky had descended to the earth.

At the gate, Princess Diya’s brothers welcomed Manveer. A rain of flowers began, and the air was thick with the scent of attar. Manveer dismounted the elephant; people bowed and saluted his every step.

"Look, how fortunate the Prince is," a maidservant walking beside me whispered. "Princess Diya’s beauty is talked about across the country. They will look exactly like Shiva and Parvati together."

I kept walking behind the maidservants with my head bowed, but their words began to pierce my ears like arrows.

"No, no, no one could be more beautiful than Princess Rajsree," an old maidservant said with a heavy sigh. "I had seen her... she was the very embodiment of Goddess Lakshmi. She had such a kind heart, and her voice... it was as if Goddess Saraswati herself were speaking. She was blessed with every virtue. Poor soul... may God grant peace to her spirit."

Hearing her words, my steps faltered for a moment. Tears welled up in my eyes. Today, these very people were praying for the peace of my soul, not knowing that I was standing right beside them—alive, yet in a state worse than death.

"Yes... you are absolutely right," the other maids agreed with sorrow in their voices.

But in the next moment, the direction of their conversation shifted.

"But hey, our Prince is no less either!" another maid chirped. "A man as handsome and radiant as him wouldn't be found in all of Hind, or even beyond. He is an Emperor... Princess Diya is incredibly fortunate to have our Prince."

Hearing this, my blood boiled. Fortunate? Could these people not see the ruthless face hidden behind Manveer’s beauty? A scream remained suppressed in my heart. The Manveer they considered a 'God' was the same man who had trampled over my Lakshmi-like virtues and my Saraswati-like purity.

I swallowed my tears and clenched my fists. The maids' chatter was breaking me, yet those very words were fueling the fire of my vengeance.

If I was Lakshmi, then from this day forth, I am the Kaali who will destroy this 'fortunate' union.

We reached the palace courtyard. Splendor was everywhere, but my eyes were fixed on that high balcony where Princess Diya must be watching the procession.

Just then, the maidservants were ordered to take the wedding gifts and materials inside toward the Antahpura (the ladies' quarters). I took a deep breath. This was the chance to see the woman who had stolen everything from me.

I followed the maids into the heart of the palace. We reached the part of the palace where only women were allowed—the Antahpura. The air here was so thick with the scent of sandalwood and jasmine that my head began to spin. The maids were talking in low voices.

"Stop!" the head maid ordered. "Place all these items outside Princess Diya’s dressing room. She has just returned from her bath."

"Jiji," I said, keeping my voice humble, yet a strange glint danced in my eyes. "If you permit, may I go inside? Back in Ashok nagar, I was specially called to adorn brides.

She nodded and handed over the precious ceremonial ornaments to me.

I entered the room. It was crowded with maids, and in the center sat Diya.

"Salutations, Princess," I bowed with deep respect. My tone was so refined that no one suspected the volcano of hatred ready to erupt in my chest.

"Are you new?" Diya looked at me through the mirror. There was an innocence in her voice that irritated me.

"Yes, My Lady. I have been graced with the opportunity to serve you today," I said, arranging the henna and jewels. I subtly nudged the other maids aside and began detangling Diya’s hair myself.

Prince Manveer is exceptionally glorious and handsome,"The whole country speaks of his valor."

A shy smile drifted across Diya’s face. "Yes... as brave as he is, he is equally tender-hearted. I am very fortunate to become his better half."

📚🙏....... continue......