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The Dawn of the Trial
At the break of dawn, the palace of Nandigram thundered with sound. Conch shells blared, drums rolled, and the long courtyards blazed with the rising sun. Every noble, merchant, and soldier of consequence had gathered in the Hall of Banners, the vast ceremonial square where the fate of rulers was often sealed.
The Hall was no ordinary courtyard. Carved marble pillars, etched with epics of kings and gods, ringed the space. Above, balconies spilled with nobles draped in silks and turbans of house colors. Hundreds of banners—long, silken standards marked with family crests, colors, and emblems—hung from poles, each awaiting the moment when their bearers would raise or lower them in allegiance.
In the center, upon a dais, sat the Queen-Mother, regal in crimson robes embroidered with gold. Her crown of pearls shimmered as she leaned upon an ivory staff. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, swept the hall like a hawk's gaze, searching for weakness.
At her right stood Princess Rajnandini, serene and unreadable, her eyes occasionally drifting toward Shaurya.
And at the far end, the guest of the trial, stood Shaurya, King of Ashval, flanked by his ministers. His face was calm, his shoulders straight, his presence as steady as a mountain.
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The Queen-Mother Speaks
The Queen-Mother raised her staff, and the drums silenced.
"Today," she declared, her voice carrying through the hall, "we hold the ancient Rite of Banners. By this rite, loyalty is proven not in battle or coin, but in choice. Each noble, each house, each guild shall raise their banner. Whom they honor, they serve. Whom they deny, they resist."
She leaned slightly forward.
"Two banners may rise today: one for Nandigram's throne, and one for the guest king of Ashval. Let all witness where loyalty lies."
A hush fell. The trial had begun.
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The First Banners — Uncertainty
The first to step forward was Lord Rudrapal, the haughty noble who had threatened Shaurya the night before. His banner was black with a golden trident.
All eyes watched.
Rudrapal smirked as he strode to the dais. Without hesitation, he raised his banner high toward the Queen-Mother.
A roar of approval burst from half the court. The Queen-Mother's lips curved faintly.
Shaurya's expression did not change. His ministers exchanged glances, but their king remained still as stone.
Next came a merchant guild leader, sweat beading his brow. He hesitated between the two poles — the Queen-Mother's and Shaurya's. His hand wavered.
The hall whispered like rustling leaves.
Finally, with trembling hands, he raised his banner toward Shaurya.
Gasps echoed. The Queen-Mother's eyes narrowed, though she said nothing.
Shaurya inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, his calm presence alone enough to steady the merchant's trembling.
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The Procession of Choices
One by one, houses and guilds stepped forward.
Some, bound by bloodline, raised banners for Nandigram's throne without pause.
Others, restless under the Queen-Mother's iron grip, raised them toward Shaurya, eyes gleaming with the hope of change.
A few hesitated, whispering with advisors, trembling as they made their choice.
The hall became a storm of murmurs, gasps, cheers, and curses. Each banner raised was not just cloth but allegiance, future, and risk.
By midday, the division was clear: the court was split, nearly half for the Queen-Mother, half for Shaurya.
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The Queen-Mother's Trap
At this moment, the Queen-Mother rose again. Her voice cut like a blade.
"Loyalty, it seems, is easily swayed. But let us not forget — loyalty must be tested. Words and banners are wind unless proven with tribute."
Servants wheeled out chests filled with jewels, grain, weapons, and scrolls of land rights.
"Those who raise banners for Ashval," she declared, "must pledge not only their voices, but their resources. Let us see if loyalty is more than mere defiance."
The nobles froze. This was the Queen-Mother's gambit: to force Shaurya's supporters to sacrifice wealth and power, risking ruin if he failed.
Murmurs of doubt spread. Some lowered their banners, retreating to safety.
Varun's jaw tightened. "A cruel move. If they falter, Maharaj, your support dwindles."
Acharya Govind whispered, "This is her true test — whether you inspire sacrifice, not just words."
All eyes turned to Shaurya.
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Shaurya's Response
Slowly, Shaurya stepped forward, his cloak brushing the marble. The murmurs silenced as his calm, resonant voice filled the hall.
"You ask them to pay," he said, "but they already have."
He gestured toward the merchants, soldiers, and common guild leaders who had raised his banners.
"They have paid with the courage to stand against fear. They have paid with the risk of ruin, for daring to choose change. And I tell you this — Ashval does not take from those who trust it. Ashval gives."
He turned, his voice rising.
"Let every man who raises a banner for me know — their grain shall feed twice as many mouths, their swords shall guard not only their houses but their sons' sons, and their wealth shall flow not into coffers of vanity but into the lifeblood of their people."
The court buzzed. Shaurya's calm fire was undeniable.
Then, with deliberate motion, he drew a pouch from his belt and cast it onto the tribute chests. Gold spilled across the marble.
"Ashval does not ask for loyalty empty-handed. Here is my pledge: I invest first. Who will follow?"
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The Turning Tide
For a heartbeat, silence. Then, a merchant stepped forward, emboldened, and threw a necklace of pearls into the chest.
"I follow," he said firmly.
Another noble, face pale but resolute, tossed a scroll of land deeds.
One by one, others followed, each contribution louder than the last. Soon, the hall thundered with declarations as Shaurya's supporters not only raised banners but filled the tribute chests.
The Queen-Mother's eyes narrowed — her trap had backfired.
Instead of bleeding Shaurya's support, she had made his loyalty visible, tangible, undeniable.
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The Queen-Mother's Last Gambit
But she was not defeated yet. Rising to her full height, her voice boomed:
"Very well. The Rite of Banners is nearly complete. But let one last challenge decide. If the banners truly honor you, King of Ashval — let them prove it here and now."
She raised her staff, and the great doors of the hall swung open.
Soldiers marched in, carrying an enormous standard: the Royal Banner of Nandigram, embroidered with gold and gems, symbol of the throne itself.
"Whichever side this banner joins," the Queen-Mother declared, "shall hold the victory."
Gasps erupted. This was unprecedented — the trial's rules rewritten in her favor.
The standard bearer, a grim knight clad in silver armor, strode forward. His loyalty was to the Queen-Mother — yet tradition now demanded he choose.
The hall held its breath.
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Shaurya's Calm Defiance
Shaurya did not move. He stood still, calm as a monolith, his eyes fixed on the knight.
When he finally spoke, his words carried like thunder.
"You hold a banner of cloth. But loyalty is not cloth. It is not stitched with thread, nor dyed with color. Loyalty is born of trust."
He raised his hand slowly, palm open.
"If you believe in chains, raise it for her. If you believe in freedom, raise it for me. The choice is not between thrones — it is between fear and faith."
The knight trembled. The hall watched.
Then, with sudden force, he thrust the Royal Banner into the ground — not beside the Queen-Mother, but behind Shaurya.
The hall exploded. Nobles shouted, merchants cheered, and soldiers stamped their spears in thunderous rhythm.
Shaurya's calm figure stood tall, framed by the banners of Ashval and now the throne's own.
The Queen-Mother's eyes burned with fury — yet even she could not deny the will of the banners.
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Closing Scene
As the drums rolled and conch shells blared, the herald announced:
"By the Rite of Banners, the guest king of Ashval has won the loyalty of Nandigram's houses and guilds!"
But beneath the roar of triumph, Shaurya's eyes lingered on the Queen-Mother. She sat still, her lips curved faintly. Not in defeat, but in calculation.
For though Shaurya had won the banners, he knew: her true game was only beginning.
To be continued....