The Darsha Estate dining hall was abnormally celebratory that evening.
The roasted boar (yes, from Sharath's ice boar hunt), fresh bread, hearty mushroom stew, and dessert platter so massive it could've been enough for an army (or, more likely, Sharath alone) were all laid out.
Lady Ishvari sat at the head of the table, smiling weakly. Lord Darsha was in a remarkably fine mood, Bassana had his teacup as per usual, and even the princess seemed less prepared to scowl at Sharath for being.
During dinner halfway through, Lady Ishvari cleared her throat.
"There's something I need to tell you all."
The table fell silent. Even Sharath, who had just been preparing to take a bite of his third helping of boar ribs, froze in mid-motion.
"I am… three months pregnant."
For an instant, there was only the quiet clink of Bassana's teacup as it rested into its saucer. Then the whole table exploded.
Lord Darsha leapt from his seat, beaming from side to side.
Bassana laughed warmly, extending congratulations.
The princess squealed in delight and clapped her hands.
Sharath froze, rib still in hand, eyes wide. Then, slowly, an almost childlike grin spread across his face.
Thermo: "Oh great, now you're going to start designing baby battle armor, aren't you?"
Neuro Boop: "No, he's too sappy right now. I'm predicting plushies. Lots of plushies."
The Toy-Making Frenzy
That evening, as the rest of them were out partying, Sharath was already in his workshop, slumped over a workbench strewn with cloth, thread, stuffing, and sketch pads.
"This time," he growled to himself, "no cheap market trash. No badly sewn faces. No nightmare in the guise of a teddy bear."
In his head, he still recalled the "orr loin" toy — the poor market-bought plushie that was meant to be a cute lion but turned out to look like a diseased potato with button eyes. He'd promised himself never again.
He started making slime plushies first — ideal spheres, mushy and soft, with small embroidered faces.
Then variously colored slime plush toys — green, blue, pink, yellow — all lined up like a rainbow of snuggly destruction.
Teddy bears with sewn-on smiles and small bows next.
Then rabbits, cats, even a small boar plush (less fearsome than the actual boar).
His lab was a plushie factory for ten days. There were mounds of fabric shreds on the floor, cotton stuffing rolls piled high like snow. There was a faint scent of fabric dye and determination in the air.
The Family Reaction
On the tenth day, Sharath showed his work to his parents with pride.
Lord Darsha blinked. "Why… exactly… have you made a battalion of plush toys?"
Lady Ishvari smiled but cocked her head. "You know we could just purchase toys at the market."
Sharath's face fell. "The toys at the market are rubbish. I didn't even appreciate the ones you got for me when I was little."
Neuro Boop: "Translation: childhood trauma from off-brand plushies."
Thermo: "Imagine being emotionally scarred by a wonky bunny."
Sharath picked up one of the slime plush toys. "These are soft, well-sewn, and comforting to cradle. These are nice toys."
Lady Ishvari extended her hand, brushing one of the plush slimes with it. Her eyes grew softer. The princess, who'd entered during their conversation, picked up a pink slime and hugged it.
"May I have some for myself?" the princess asked.
"Me too," Lady Ishvari said with a smile.
Sharath blinked, surprised. "…Sure," he replied with a bit of awkwardness.
Bassana Smells Business
That evening, Sharath's grandfather Bassana walked into the workshop in a carefree manner. He picked up a green slime plush and mashed it for experimentation.
"Sharath," he started, "how soon can these be mass produced?"
Sharath stopped mid-stitch. "Depending on the tools. Why?
Bassana smiled. "Because I can smell money. These might sell higher than the city's best imports. If we produce, we own the market."
Thermo: "Oh no. Grandpa's going into 'Merchant Mode.'"
Neuro Boop: "Monopoly mode incoming."
Sharath shrugged. "A-okay by me. If it pays for the territory, I'm in."
The Territory Name Problem
That's when Lord Darsha came in, picking up the conversation.
"If this money is going to go towards your territory, have you named it yet?"
Sharath stiffened. "…No."
The princess cocked her head. "We can't just keep calling it 'Sharath's Territory.' That doesn't sound… right."
Sharath facepalmed. "Give me two days."
Two Days of Naming Hell
The next 48 hours were hell.
Sharath barricaded himself in his lab with a notebook, muttering like a madman.
Attempt #1: "Slime Haven."
Princess: "Sounds like a swamp."
Thermo: "Also makes you sound like a slime cult leader."
Try #4: "Boarville."
Neuro Boop: "Congratulations, you've named it after a roadside barbecue restaurant."
Try #9: "Progressia."
Princess: "Too modern."
Thermo: "Too boring."
Try #14: "Sharathland."
Neuro Boop: "Sounds like a failing amusement park."
Thermo: "With zero safety inspections."
After day one, Sharath had 37 rejected names and an ever-twitchier left eye.
The Breakthrough
On day two morning, after his 52nd rejected name ("Iceboaria"), Sharath rested his head in his chair and let out a groan.
Then, suddenly.
"Unnatirajya."
Unnati (उन्नति) = Progress, advancement, prosperity.
Rajya (राज्य) = Kingdom, realm, dominion.
It was beautiful. Poetic. Regal.
Even Thermo was quiet for a moment.
Neuro Boop: "…Not bad."
Thermo: "Still think 'Boarbecue Nation' had potential."
The Big Reveal
That night, Sharath gathered the family around him.
"My land shall be known as… Unnatirajya."
The princess smiled. Lady Ishvari nodded in approval. Lord Darsha patted him on the back.
Bassana grinned. "Good. Now we can label the plushies 'From the Heart of Unnatirajya.' That'll sell."
Sharath groaned. "I just came up with the name, and you're already putting it on merchandize."
Bassana sipped his tea. "Business waits for no one.".