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The Return to the Palace
The gates of Nandigram opened slowly as Shaurya rode through with his battered but unbroken company. Their armor was scorched, their banners torn, but their formation remained proud.
Behind them, wagons bore the bodies of the fallen—and bound prisoners, serpent acolytes dragged from the tunnels beneath the amphitheater.
The city buzzed like a hive. People lined the streets, staring wide-eyed as the column marched past. Some whispered prayers of thanks. Others gaped in shock at the sight of noble insignias among the captured traitors.
"Lord Varunesh…? Impossible…"
"He sat beside the Queen-Mother herself!"
"If a noble can be serpent, who can be trusted?"
The whispers spread faster than fire on dry grass. Shaurya neither smiled nor frowned. His gaze stayed forward, unflinching, his calm presence anchoring his men against the tide of murmurs.
But inside, he knew the battle of blades had been only the prelude. The true storm waited in the Queen-Mother's court.
---
The Court Summons
By evening, the summons arrived.
The Hall of Ancestral Veils, the great chamber where generations of queens and regents had presided, glowed with golden oil lamps. Its walls were draped with silken banners, each bearing the sigil of a ruling line long past.
At its heart sat the Queen-Mother, veiled in crimson, her posture regal and unreadable. Around her stood the council: ministers, generals, nobles. But their whispers were no longer casual court gossip—they were sharp, hungry, filled with fear.
The chamber doors opened, and Shaurya strode in, armored still, Varunesh's broken mask held in his hand. His very presence silenced the hall.
He bowed once—short, deliberate. "The serpent has been unmasked. And it wore the face of Lord Varunesh."
Gasps rippled. Several nobles turned pale. Others glanced nervously toward the Queen-Mother, as though seeking protection.
Shaurya tossed the mask at the foot of the throne. It clattered on the marble, a hollow sound that rang like judgment.
---
The Queen-Mother's Probing
The Queen-Mother's voice was calm, though beneath it lay something unreadable.
"So it is true. A lord of my council—a serpent in noble robes. Tell us, Shaurya—did he speak before his death? Did he reveal how far the corruption spreads?"
Her words were a knife wrapped in silk. Some nobles stiffened, afraid their names might be next.
Shaurya's tone was measured, his calm charisma filling the silence.
"He revealed enough. Enough to know this is not one man's treachery, but a web woven deeper. He named no allies, but his venomous words pointed inward—toward these very halls."
A murmur of outrage erupted.
"Lies!" one noble spat.
"Convenient that the prince accuses the council now that his blade silenced the only witness," another sneered.
The Queen-Mother raised a single hand. Silence fell again. Her veiled gaze lingered on Shaurya.
"And you, my son? Would you claim that serpents still sit among us? That my court is their nest?"
Shaurya met her eyes without hesitation. "I do not claim. I know."
The chamber froze.
---
The Nobles' Division
The words split the court like a thunderclap.
Some ministers leaned forward, their faces pale but resolute. "If Lord Varunesh was corrupted, others may be as well. We must root them out."
Others recoiled. "This is madness! To question every noble is to tear the court apart!"
"Or is that what the prince wants?" one sneered openly. "To break our unity and seize power for himself?"
A dangerous murmur of agreement rippled through the dissenters.
Rajnandini, standing at Shaurya's side, stepped forward, her voice sharp. "You speak of unity when your own ally's mask was found in serpent blood? Is that unity—or treachery hiding behind silk?"
The court erupted again, voices clashing like swords.
---
The Queen-Mother's Test
The Queen-Mother's hand struck the throne's armrest. The sound cracked across the hall.
"Enough."
Her voice carried steel. The chamber stilled, though tension hummed like a bowstring.
She leaned forward, veil shifting slightly. "If Shaurya speaks true, then we must know the depth of this corruption. If he speaks false, then he risks sowing discord to his own gain."
Her tone sharpened.
"Thus, I decree a trial—not of blades, but of loyalty. Every noble, every minister, every general will submit their households to examination. Records, accounts, servants—all will be searched. And you, Shaurya, will lead this purge."
Gasps filled the chamber.
To put a prince in charge of investigating the nobility—this was no small move. It was both trust and trap, a crown of thorns.
If Shaurya succeeded, he would win the people's faith—but earn the hatred of every noble he exposed. If he failed, he would stand accused of weakness… or worse, ambition.
The Queen-Mother's voice lowered, heavy with meaning.
"Do you accept this burden, my son?"
---
Shaurya's Calm Oath
The hall held its breath.
Shaurya stepped forward, his presence filling the chamber. His calm voice carried the weight of a mountain, unhurried, undeniable.
"I accept. Not for power, not for ambition. But because no throne built on poison can stand. If serpents hide in silk, then silk must burn until only truth remains."
His words rolled like thunder. Ministers bowed their heads. Generals struck their fists to their chests. Even some nobles could not meet his gaze.
But in the shadows, others glared with venom, their lips tight with silent rage.
The Queen-Mother reclined once more, unreadable. "So be it. Let the serpent hunt begin."
---
The Silent Aftermath
As the court dispersed, Shaurya and Rajnandini walked the palace corridors in silence. Outside, the city torches burned, but within the palace shadows stretched long and dark.
Rajnandini finally spoke. "She gave you both sword and snare in one breath. The Queen-Mother trusts you—or she seeks to test whether you can survive being hated."
Shaurya's expression was calm, his eyes steady.
"It does not matter. Serpents do not care for trust or hatred. They care only for power. And so long as I stand, power will not belong to them."
From a balcony, a pair of watching nobles whispered together, their words carried away by the night breeze.
"He hunts serpents now."
"Then we must strike before his blade finds us."
In the darkened halls of Nandigram, the war had only begun.
To be continued....