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The Morning Assembly
The Queen-Mother's court was an ocean of color and noise. Banners of Nandigram, embroidered with lotus and peacock motifs, hung from the carved stone pillars. The nobles filled the floor with their silken robes, each shade marking a different house. Priests stood near the altar, merchants near the outer ring, soldiers in polished armor along the walls.
At the dais sat the Queen-Mother herself, resplendent in her crimson-and-gold sari, a jeweled crown resting lightly on her head. Her eyes, sharp as blades, swept the chamber.
Beside her throne sat Princess Rajnandini, quiet yet observant, her features unreadable as she scanned the assembly.
The conch horns sounded. The herald stepped forward.
"Presenting Maharaj Shaurya of Ashval, sovereign of the southern marches, claimant of banners, keeper of Adhipatya."
Shaurya entered with deliberate calm. His robes were deep indigo, lined with silver threads, and at his waist gleamed the Trinetra blade, a symbol of his rising stature. Behind him walked his ministers: Varun the Treasurer, Devdutt the Scholar, and Rajendra the Minister of Arms.
The court buzzed at his entrance — some whispers admiring, others suspicious.
---
The First Whisper
Before Shaurya could even take his seat among the guest rulers, a noble of House Vaidya stepped forward, bowing to the Queen-Mother.
"Your Majesty, forgive my boldness. But word comes from the bazaars this morning. It is said that the King of Ashval has begun hoarding grain in secret, while Nandigram's people pay dearly for each sack of rice. Is it not dangerous to trust such a man?"
A ripple of murmurs surged through the court.
Shaurya's ministers stiffened, Devdutt nearly rising in protest. But Shaurya lifted a hand, silencing them. His calm presence alone quieted much of the chamber.
He turned, his voice steady, resonant.
"My lords, the markets often chatter faster than truth walks. If Ashval hoards grain, then why did your merchants leave my feast with wagons full of surplus rice, freely bought and fairly weighed?"
He gestured toward the merchant's ring.
"Ask them, not whispers. Grain speaks through bellies, not gossip."
The merchant leaders nodded reluctantly, and the court murmurs subsided. The Queen-Mother's eyes gleamed — she had seen his composure, and perhaps, approved.
---
The Second Test
Another noble rose, this one from House Karnik, his tone more aggressive.
"Your Majesty, the serpent whispers of another danger. They say Ashval's king wields sorcery, powers unblessed by gods. Should we not fear a man who bends the winds of war and the will of men alike?"
The court tensed. Even Rajnandini's eyes flicked toward Shaurya, measuring his answer.
Shaurya did not flinch.
"Power is not in sorcery, but in its use. Fire burns, but fire also cooks grain. A sword kills, but a sword also defends the helpless. Tell me, lords — do you fear the river that floods fields, or do you also praise it when it waters your crops?"
He spread his hands lightly, his expression calm.
"If I wield strength, it is not to enslave, but to protect. And unlike whispers, my actions are open. If any here believe otherwise, step forward, and I shall show you the strength of Ashval — not in destruction, but in loyalty."
Silence. No noble dared rise.
---
The Queen-Mother Speaks
The Queen-Mother leaned forward, her voice soft, yet carrying across the hall.
"Such words are fine, Maharaj of Ashval. Yet Nandigram does not live on words alone. My people demand proof — proof of generosity, proof of wisdom, proof that your strength is not a cloak for ambition."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"So I ask you: what gift will you leave Nandigram, that we may believe Ashval's king is more than whispers?"
The court held its breath. This was no simple request; it was a trap, a test. If Shaurya gave too little, he would seem selfish. If he promised too much, he risked his kingdom's stability.
---
Shaurya's Answer
Shaurya stepped forward, his gaze calm as still water.
"Your Majesty, Ashval is young, but it does not come empty-handed. Grain we already shared. Soldiers I will not give, for they guard my people. But there is one wealth Ashval has in abundance — knowledge."
He turned to Devdutt, who produced a scroll.
"This is the Ashval Codex of Irrigation, compiled from the trials of our farmers. With these methods, Nandigram's dry fields can drink again, and barren soil may yield double. I place this in your hands, not as tribute, but as partnership. For a kingdom's strength lies not in gold or swords, but in the well-fed joy of its people."
The chamber stirred. Farmers among the audience brightened, merchants nodded, and even some nobles looked thoughtful.
The Queen-Mother's lips curved faintly — not quite a smile, but close. Rajnandini's gaze lingered on Shaurya, as if reassessing him.
---
The Shadow Strikes Again
But just as the court began to sway in Shaurya's favor, a voice rang out from the far end.
It was a cloaked figure, standing among the lesser attendants. His voice was sharp, oily.
"Knowledge is but paper. Paper does not feed mouths. And what if the King of Ashval uses such gifts only to bind Nandigram in debt? Today irrigation, tomorrow chains!"
The chamber erupted. Nobles shouted, merchants argued, soldiers tightened grips on their spears.
Varun whispered urgently to Shaurya, "Maharaj — that man is no courtier. He reeks of Vishragarh!"
Shaurya lifted his hand again, silencing all. His voice rang clear, unshaken.
"Chains are forged in silence, not in open gift. If any believe Ashval seeks to bind, then bind us also in witness — let this codex be copied freely for all houses, all farmers, all temples of Nandigram. No debt. No hidden hand. Only growth."
The crowd gasped. The cloaked man faltered, retreating into the press of attendants.
And though he vanished swiftly, Shaurya knew: the serpent had struck openly, and failed.
---
The Court's Verdict
The Queen-Mother rose.
"Enough. This trial is not ended, but today, the King of Ashval has shown more than whispers. His words stand, his gifts stand. Let all houses record it."
The conch horns blew, ending the assembly. Nobles bowed, merchants murmured approval, and the people dispersed, buzzing with Shaurya's name.
But in her high seat, the Queen-Mother's mind churned. He had faced whispers and turned them into applause. Yet she wondered — what kind of man could remain so calm when serpents struck from every side?
---
Foreshadowing
In the far corners of the court, unseen eyes watched. A servant slipped a note beneath his cloak:
"Phase one failed. Shaurya weaves the court itself into his banner. We must escalate."
The message would find its way back to Vishragarh.
And in the quiet that followed, Shaurya stood at his balcony, gazing out across the city.
"Nandigram's court may be calmed," he murmured, "but the serpent's nest grows restless. And soon… they will strike not with whispers, but with war."
To be continued....