---
The Morning Proclamation
The drums of Nandigram thundered again at dawn, rolling through the tiled rooftops like the heartbeat of the city itself. From the balconies of palaces to the crowded lanes of the bazaar, the news spread swiftly:
"Three days hence, the Rite of Coin and Sword! All lords, ministers, and noble guests must pledge their wealth and strength before the Queen-Mother's throne!"
Hawkers shouted the proclamation as they carried scrolls inked with the royal seal. Children ran barefoot to repeat the words. Priests of the great temples murmured the decree into their prayers.
And in every corner, the same whisper rose:
"This is no festival. It is a reckoning."
---
Inside Shaurya's Chambers
Shaurya sat cross-legged on the carpet of his guest chambers, incense burning in a brass holder shaped like a lotus. Ananta stood watch near the window, arms folded, while Minister Varun unrolled a map of the city before them.
Varun's voice was tense.
"The Rite is always dangerous, but this time… it is a blade in disguise. The nobles will not only pledge wealth — they will compete to outshine one another. Whoever gives least risks humiliation, whoever gives most gains dominance. And you, Shaurya, are the wild card."
Ananta scoffed. "A game of coins to decide loyalty? Foolish."
Varun shook his head.
"No, Captain. Coins buy grain. Grain feeds armies. Armies win wars. In Nandigram, coins are sharper than swords."
Shaurya's eyes remained half-lidded, calm.
"Then let them sharpen their coins. The true test lies not in wealth, but in how one spends it. A king who hoards is no better than a thief. A king who wastes is no better than a fool."
Varun's brows furrowed. "And what of a king who pledges more than he has?"
Shaurya looked up, his faint smile carrying no warmth.
"Then he is not a king at all. He is a beggar, dressed in silk."
---
The Queen-Mother's Hidden Hand
In her private garden, the Queen-Mother walked among jasmine vines with Prince Rajendra at her side. Veiled in crimson, her steps were deliberate, her voice measured.
"The Rite will do more than test Shaurya," she said softly. "It will expose his allies. Varun, Devyani, perhaps even Govind. Those who rally to him will reveal themselves."
Rajendra frowned. "And what if he outshines us all? His words sway people like rivers bend to the moon. Already, villagers whisper his name as though he were sent by the gods."
The Queen-Mother's hand touched a jasmine bloom, then crushed it lightly between her fingers.
"Then let him shine. The brighter a lamp, the longer its shadow. And in shadows, serpents wait."
---
The Marketplace Pulse
The next two days transformed Nandigram into a cauldron of schemes.
In the bazaar, merchants displayed their wealth, each hoping to catch noble favor. One paraded a cart of gold ingots, another draped elephants in silver chains, while jewelers offered pearls the size of plums.
Caravans brought grain sacks to be tallied, artisans sharpened swords to be gifted, and mercenary companies marched, hoping to pledge their service under the right banner.
Shaurya walked among them, not as a king, but as a man in simple indigo robes. Wherever he passed, murmurs followed:
"That is the Ashval king…"
"The one who faced Samrat Mahadevan's envoys without flinching…"
"He does not wear gold, yet he carries himself as though the earth itself bends to him."
At a spice stall, the merchant bowed deeply.
"Great one, taste this saffron from Kalinga! Let it sweeten your offerings at the Rite!"
Shaurya accepted a pinch, tasting it calmly.
"Good saffron," he said, "but too much gold spent on saffron feeds no soldier. Sell it wisely, merchant. Not all wealth belongs in the court."
The man blinked, then bowed again, touched as though blessed.
---
A Meeting of Nobles
That evening, in the House of Banners, a gathering of nobles was held. The chamber was long, lined with silken pennants of every clan. Candles flickered, shadows stretching across the high ceiling.
Lord Darpan, a lean figure with hawk-like eyes, raised his voice first.
"This Rite will prove who among us still holds the Rajmata's favor! Those who stumble will be forgotten!"
Lady Devyani, her jewels glittering, countered with a sly smile.
"And those who pledge beyond their means will drown in their own debt. Wealth, my lords, is not only what you show, but what you can still hide."
Some laughed. Others nodded grimly.
Then Bhaskar Rao, Minister of War, slammed his fist upon the table.
"Coins mean nothing without swords! I will pledge three hundred soldiers to the Queen-Mother, and let any man outmatch me if he dares!"
The nobles muttered approval — until Lord Varun, calm and sharp, said aloud:
"And yet, soldiers must eat. Who will feed them when the harvest fails? Who will clothe them when winter bites? War bleeds without grain, Rao."
The room stiffened.
And then, as if on cue, the doors opened. Shaurya entered, silent as the tide.
---
Shaurya's Quiet Challenge
The nobles turned, whispers spreading. Shaurya did not speak immediately, but walked slowly to the center, where a brazier burned low. He looked at the flame, then raised his voice just enough to carry.
"You speak of wealth as though it is coin alone. Yet true wealth is not what a man gives in gold, but what remains standing when gold is gone."
Lady Devyani arched a brow. "And what remains, O Ashval king?"
Shaurya turned to face her, his calm presence filling the chamber.
"Trust. Grain. Iron. Words that bind men's hearts more than chains bind their ankles. A king who wins loyalty without emptying coffers holds wealth that cannot be stolen."
Some nobles scoffed, others shifted uncomfortably. But a few — the younger, the sharper — listened intently.
Bhaskar Rao growled. "Fine words, but words do not stop blades."
Shaurya's faint smile returned.
"No, General. But words choose where blades fall. And that decides kingdoms."
---
Adhipatya Stirs
As he spoke, the System of Adhipatya whispered in his vision again:
[Court Influence: Rising]
Noble Opinion Shift: 3 Lords Curious, 2 Lords Resentful, 1 Lady Swayed.
New Passive Unlocked: Voice of Rajadharma
Your words, when calm and precise, bend councils more easily. Diplomacy skill increased.
Shaurya's gaze remained serene, though inside he acknowledged the system's gift. The court was shifting, stone by stone.
---
The Queen-Mother Watches
Unseen from the balcony above, veiled in silks, the Queen-Mother watched through the lattice. Her eyes gleamed.
"He bends words as though they were steel," she murmured. "And the steel does not break."
Rajendra, beside her, clenched his fists. "Mother, if you let him keep swaying them, soon half the court will turn to him."
The Queen-Mother's answer was cold, sharp.
"Then let the other half sharpen their knives. The Rite will cut him one way or another."
---
Closing Scene
The drums rolled again as the nobles dispersed, each plotting deeper into the night. Some planned gifts of gold, others mustered soldiers, others whispered bribes to merchants.
Shaurya returned to his chambers, where Ananta and Varun awaited.
"Tomorrow," Varun said gravely, "the pledges begin. And every coin spent will weigh against you, Shaurya."
Shaurya looked out the window, where the moonlit banners of Nandigram fluttered. His voice was quiet, steady.
"Then let them weigh. A throne built only on coin is already bankrupt."
The night thickened with intrigue. The Rite of Coin and Sword loomed closer, not as a festival — but as a battlefield.
To be continued....