The announcement of treachery spread through Nandigram's palace like wildfire. Courtiers who had moments ago traded polite words now whispered in corners, their faces pale with fear or flushed with suspicion. Every gesture, every glance suddenly seemed dangerous, as though daggers might leap from shadows at any moment.
But at the heart of the storm, Shaurya remained composed, his hands clasped behind his back as he stood before the Queen-Mother's dais. His stillness was more unnerving than panic; it was the silence of the ocean before a storm.
---
The Queen-Mother's Summons
Queen-Mother Padmavati's face was carved from marble, but her eyes glittered dangerously.
"Summon every noble whose lands touch the southern borders. None shall leave the palace until this matter is laid bare."
Her command rippled through the hall. Guards thundered away, while the gathered ministers shifted uneasily.
Shaurya inclined his head slightly. "Maharani, secrecy is poison. If word spreads that treachery festers in this court, the smaller kingdoms circling Nandigram will move like vultures. We must act swiftly, but we must also act unseen."
Padmavati studied him a moment, then gave a single nod. "You speak truth. Then tell me, Lord Shaurya — how would you find the traitor?"
All eyes turned to him.
Shaurya's voice was calm, deliberate.
"By letting the serpent believe it still slithers unseen. Fear forces mistakes. A guilty hand cannot remain steady in fire. Allow me to conduct this inquiry… quietly, but thoroughly."
The chamber buzzed. Some nobles murmured approval, others bristled. For Shaurya to take control of such an investigation was bold — too bold, in their eyes.
Padmavati's lips curved faintly. "Very well. The matter is yours. But remember, Shaurya… a serpent may bite even as you reach for its head."
Shaurya bowed, his expression unchanged. "Then I will seize it so firmly that even its venom turns back upon itself."
---
The Closed Council
The following night, the council chamber was sealed. Only the Queen-Mother, Shaurya, and the four principal ministers sat at the long carved table. Scrolls of troop deployments and trade ledgers were spread before them, lit by flickering oil lamps.
Shaurya unrolled a map of Nandigram, his finger tracing the southern border where the garrison had fallen.
"Here — Fort Chandrakund. A stronghold controlling three trade routes. For it to fall without battle means the gates were opened willingly."
Minister Harivansh leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "The governor there was Lord Vashisht's cousin. He has always been loyal—"
"Loyalty is an easy mask to wear," Shaurya interrupted softly. His eyes swept across the table. "We must examine motive. Coin, ambition, revenge. Who stood to gain?"
Treasurer Devdatt cleared his throat, his jeweled fingers drumming nervously. "The merchants of the south have long pressed for lighter tariffs. With the fort fallen, trade caravans could be redirected—"
Shaurya's gaze fixed on him, sharp enough to still his tongue. "You speak quickly of tariffs, Minister. But we seek a traitor, not excuses."
Devdatt swallowed, lowering his eyes.
Commander Viyom struck the table with his fist. "This reeks of noble politics. I say we seize every southern lord until one breaks."
Shaurya shook his head. "To seize blindly is to blind ourselves further. No. We will draw the serpent out."
---
The Gathering of Nobles
By dawn, the accused nobles were summoned into the great hall. They arrived in silks and jewels, their faces carefully composed — but sweat glistened on brows, and their eyes darted like startled deer.
Shaurya stood before them, dressed not in finery but in his simple royal black, his presence commanding.
"My lords," he began, his voice carrying through the chamber, "a fort has fallen by treachery. One among you bears blood upon his hands. Yet I will not accuse blindly. Instead, I offer a chance: speak truth, and the Queen-Mother may show mercy. But lie, and your falsehoods will bury you."
The hall was deathly still. Nobles shifted, some muttering prayers, others tightening their grips on their robes.
Shaurya let the silence stretch before continuing.
"I will ask three questions of each of you. Your words, your eyes, your breath — all will answer. Truth has a sound. And lies… have a stench."
---
The First Interrogations
The first noble, Lord Raghuvir, stepped forward. His voice trembled as he answered Shaurya's questions about troop movements and supplies. His hands shook, but his words matched the records. Shaurya let him step back.
One by one, the lords came. Some sweated, others snarled. Shaurya's questions were deceptively simple:
Where were your men stationed on the night the gates opened?
What tribute did you send to Fort Chandrakund this season?
If the Queen-Mother commanded, would you raise your banners tomorrow?
To the courtiers, they seemed ordinary inquiries. But each was a blade testing for weakness.
At last, Lord Vashisht stepped forward. His broad shoulders and silver-threaded beard marked him as one of the elder nobles. He bowed stiffly, his eyes cold.
Shaurya's gaze locked onto him.
"Tell me, my lord. What news did your cousin, the governor, send before the fort's fall?"
Vashisht's jaw tightened. "None, my lord. The last letter spoke only of repairing the western wall."
Shaurya's expression did not change. "Strange. For I have that very letter here… and it speaks of dwindling grain, not walls."
Gasps echoed through the hall. Vashisht's face blanched, but he forced a scowl. "Then it seems I was misinformed by my steward."
Shaurya stepped closer, his presence looming though his voice remained calm. "Or perhaps, Lord Vashisht, you never read the letter because you knew well enough what was to come."
The hall buzzed with murmurs.
---
The Trap Springs
Later that evening, Shaurya convened a private supper with the nobles. Golden platters of rice, roasted lamb, and saffron sweets filled the table. Servants poured wine, and laughter — thin and forced — echoed under the carved ceiling.
Shaurya raised his cup. "To loyalty," he said, his eyes never leaving Lord Vashisht.
The others echoed the toast nervously.
As the meal wore on, Shaurya asked idle questions about hunting, trade, family — yet always his words circled back to loyalty and betrayal. The nobles sweated under the weight of his gaze.
Then, when the cups were refilled and the lamps burned low, Shaurya spoke softly:
"Tell me, my lords. If one among you had betrayed us all… would you dine with him still?"
The question struck like thunder. Nobles froze, glancing at one another. Some muttered denials, others swore oaths.
But Shaurya's eyes never left Vashisht.
The older noble's hand trembled on his goblet. A bead of sweat traced down his temple. His lips parted, but no words came.
And in that silence, Shaurya's calm smile returned.
---
The Cliffhanger
The Queen-Mother rose from her seat at the head of the table, her eyes narrowing. "Lord Vashisht… your silence condemns you more than words ever could."
The nobles gasped, some leaping to their feet. Guards moved swiftly to seize him.
But before they could, Vashisht hurled his goblet to the ground, wine splashing crimson across the marble. His voice thundered, raw with fury:
"You think Nandigram is yours to command, boy? You think Padmavati's court bends to your will? You will choke on your own arrogance before the year is done!"
With a shout, he drew a dagger from within his robes — but not toward Shaurya. Instead, he plunged it into his own chest.
Chaos erupted. Nobles screamed, guards surged forward, the Queen-Mother's face twisted in shock.
Shaurya alone did not move. He merely watched as Vashisht fell, blood soaking the golden carpet, his final words gurgling from his lips:
"The serpent has more heads than you know…"
And with that, silence.
But the court knew — this was no end. This was the beginning of something far darker.
To be continued....