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The City in Murmurs
The morning after the Festival of Lights should have been a time of joy. Instead, whispers crept through Nandigram's streets like smoke after a fire.
"Did you see? The prince killed a villager."
"No—he saved the boy. My cousin saw it with her own eyes."
"But where was the dagger?"
"They say the Queen-Mother herself doubted him…"
Every market stall, every temple courtyard, every tavern buzzed with divided voices. Trust had not crumbled, but it trembled, fragile as a lamp-flame in the wind.
Shaurya knew it as he walked through the city with no guards, only the people's stares as his escort. He kept his head high, his pace unhurried. He would not hide from their doubts.
Children waved timidly. Some elders bowed. But others drew back, their eyes filled with unease. The serpent faction had not won—but they had planted their venom deep.
---
The Queen-Mother's Chamber
By midday, Shaurya was summoned. The Queen-Mother's private chamber was dim, perfumed with sandalwood smoke, its carved pillars depicting gods and demons locked in eternal battle.
She sat upon a low throne, veiled as ever, though Shaurya could feel her gaze like the weight of a blade on his neck. Around her stood the inner council—ministers, generals, and nobles. The air was taut with expectation.
"Shaurya," the Queen-Mother said, her voice calm but cold, "last night you stood before the people with blood on your sword. Some cheer your name still. Others whisper betrayal. I ask you now—before this council—what truth should I carry to my people?"
The nobles leaned forward. Some eyes glittered with malice, others with curiosity. Lord Samudra's allies whispered among themselves, eager for weakness.
Shaurya did not bow. His voice was steady as stone.
"The truth is simple, Mother. A dagger flew toward a child. My blade struck the hand that carried it. The serpent faction tried to twist the moment. But I will not let lies grow roots in this soil."
A ripple of voices stirred. One minister scoffed openly. "Convenient, is it not, that the dagger vanished into thin air?"
Another added slyly, "Perhaps it was never there at all."
The Queen-Mother raised her hand, silencing them. Her tone sharpened.
"Then prove it, my son. Hunt these shadows that coil through my city. Tear the serpent from its den—and bring me their fangs."
---
The Silent Councilor
After the council dispersed, one figure lingered at the edge of the chamber—Minister Dharmesh, an elder with silver in his beard and eyes that gleamed with quiet wisdom. He stepped forward once the Queen-Mother withdrew.
"You carry yourself well, Shaurya," Dharmesh said softly. "But know this: truth is not enough in a court of serpents. Proof must be louder than whispers."
Shaurya inclined his head. "And where do whispers gather loudest, Minister?"
The old man's lips curved faintly. "In the wine halls… and in the prisons. The serpent's tongue cannot resist wagging when it thinks itself hidden."
Shaurya's eyes hardened. "Then I will seek both."
---
The Hunt Begins
That night, Shaurya left the palace with only Rajnandini and a handful of loyal guards. He moved through the city in plain robes, his royal bearing cloaked but never diminished.
At the taverns, he listened. He heard drunken boasts of men who claimed the prince's sword was cursed, paid voices that seeded doubt among the crowd. He memorized faces.
At the prison, he spoke with a captured thief—one caught days earlier carrying coded scrolls. The man trembled under Shaurya's gaze, but stubbornly bit his tongue. Only when Rajnandini leaned close, her voice honeyed and sharp, did he break.
"They meet," the thief gasped, "in the ruins beneath the old amphitheater… a place of shadows where even guards fear to tread."
Shaurya's jaw set. The serpent's den had shown itself.
---
The Trap Unfolds
By dawn, Shaurya stood at the palace gates, armored and resolute. His declaration spread through the halls like wildfire:
"I ride to tear the serpent from its pit. Any who wish for truth may ride with me. Any who wish for lies may stay behind."
Some nobles sneered, dismissing it as reckless bravado. But others—captains of the guard, younger lords hungry for honor, villagers who had seen his shield raised in their defense—flocked to his banner.
By the time he mounted his horse, a force of hundreds followed. The Queen-Mother watched from her balcony, her veil unmoving.
Was she testing him again, or silently approving? Shaurya could not tell. But he felt her eyes linger long after he rode into the dawn.
---
The Cliff's Edge
As the company neared the amphitheater ruins, the sun bled across the horizon. The stones loomed black and broken, ancient pillars jutting from the earth like the teeth of a fallen titan.
Shaurya dismounted, his gaze scanning the shadows. The air was too still.
Rajnandini's hand tightened on her bowstring. "It feels like a trap," she murmured.
Shaurya's voice was calm, steady, a mountain unmoved.
"Of course it is."
From the ruins came the sound of hissing laughter. Dozens of hooded figures emerged, their blades gleaming. At their center, a tall figure in a serpent-mask raised a curved staff.
"You come seeking truth, Prince of Ashes?" the masked leader taunted. "Then bathe in it—blood is the only truth this land knows!"
Shaurya stepped forward, unflinching, his voice carrying like thunder.
"Then tonight, serpent, you will learn another truth—that your venom cannot kill the heart of this kingdom."
The clash was inevitable.
To be continued....