The echoes of last night's feast still lingered in the air of Nandigram's palace. The Gate of Wealth trial had ended with Shaurya emerging calm and unshaken, but he knew—so did the Queen-Mother—that victory in one round did not end the game.
The following morning, the sun fell like molten gold across the marble courtyards. The royal court was being convened again, but this time in the Inner Sabha Hall—a chamber reserved only for the highest matters of state.
The hall was a masterpiece of Nandigram's wealth and culture. The pillars were carved from single blocks of rose quartz, each entwined with golden filigree depicting the kingdom's myths. Ceiling panels, lacquered in deep indigo, shimmered with inlaid mother-of-pearl constellations. And at the far end, upon a dais draped in silver silk, sat Queen-Mother Rajashri Devi, flanked by her most trusted ministers.
Unlike the warmth of the previous feast, today's court had a deliberate chill. Every noble, minister, and envoy had been summoned. Even the city's guildmasters were present—each a power in their own right.
The Subtle Opening Moves
As Shaurya entered, his measured steps drew every eye. His attire was deliberately understated: a deep blue kurta embroidered in black thread, accented with a single silver clasp shaped like the trident of destruction. It was not opulence—it was presence.
The Queen-Mother's voice rang clear.
"Lord Shaurya, yesterday you were tested on resource distribution in the guise of a feast. You passed with… commendable calm. But in Nandigram, wealth is not only about food or gold. It is the lifeblood of power. Tell me—"
Her eyes narrowed slightly, "—if tomorrow our grain reserves fell short due to a poor harvest, yet the merchants demanded payment in full, and our soldiers' pay was delayed, what would you do first? The merchants, the people, or the army?"
The court murmured at the bluntness of the question.
Shaurya didn't answer immediately. He simply looked at her, and then at the assembly, letting the silence stretch just enough to make everyone lean in.
"The merchants can be persuaded with terms. The soldiers can be rallied with loyalty. But a hungry people become desperate. Feed the people, and the merchants and army both will see reason. Secure the foundation, and the pillars will stand."
The Queen-Mother's lips curved slightly. It was neither approval nor mockery—it was simply the acknowledgment of a worthy reply.
The Game Within the Game
Minister Devkant, a hawk-eyed man draped in crimson, seized the opening.
"Fine words, my lord, but such decisions require resources. If you choose the people first, the merchants may flee with their goods. Without trade, what will you feed them with? Without soldiers' pay, what if they turn to mutiny?"
Shaurya's gaze turned to him.
"If a kingdom depends on merchants who would abandon their own homeland, it has already failed in leadership. As for the soldiers—if they fight only for coin and not for the land they protect, then you have no army, only hired blades. The first task of a ruler is to build loyalty deeper than gold."
A ripple went through the court. It wasn't the answer many expected—it was a strike at the very roots of power politics in Nandigram.
The Queen-Mother's fingers tapped the armrest slowly. This was no longer about a hypothetical scenario—this was a debate on state philosophy, in front of every influential figure in the capital.
The Second Net Springs
The Queen-Mother leaned forward.
"Very well. Let us make this more… tangible."
She clapped her hands once, and servants brought forth three chests. One filled with gold coins, another with sealed scrolls bearing merchant contracts, and the third with tokens representing food stores.
"You have one day to allocate these among three cities—Balipur, Jhansar, and Kanchal. Balipur is our grain source, Jhansar is our trade hub, and Kanchal houses the main garrison. But there is a catch—"
Her tone sharpened.
"Your allocation will be recorded and announced to the people tomorrow morning. And each city's delegation is here, listening."
It was a perfect trap. If he favored one, the others could turn against him before his alliance with Nandigram was even secured.
Shaurya's eyes swept the room, resting briefly on each delegation. He did not smile, but his voice was calm as flowing water.
"Then my answer is simple. I will not divide these as they are. I will combine them."
The hall stilled.
"Gold will be sent to Kanchal, but in payment for grain from Balipur, not in wages. Grain from Balipur will be sent to Jhansar as trade goods, and contracts from Jhansar will bind both cities in shared profit. Thus each city's strength becomes the other's supply."
For a moment, silence reigned. Then murmurs erupted—some admiring, others clearly unsettled. He had taken the Queen-Mother's rigid framework and bent it into a circle of mutual dependency.
Aftermath of the Move
The Queen-Mother's eyes were unreadable.
"An elegant answer, Lord Shaurya. But remember—when you bind cities together, you also bind their fates. If one falls, all will tremble."
Shaurya inclined his head slightly.
"Then I shall make certain none fall."
The court session closed, but the true battle had only deepened. Outside the hall, whispers spread through the corridors like wind through dry leaves. Nobles wondered if Shaurya was a shrewd ally or a dangerous mind to keep too close.
From the dais, the Queen-Mother watched him leave with that same faint smile. This was not a loss for her—no, this was exactly what she wanted. A mind that could see the threads behind the tapestry. Whether she would weave him into her designs or cut him from them entirely… that remained to be seen.
To be continued....