CHAPTER 69 The New Heartbeat of Nabhgadh and the Silk Bond
On the high ramparts of Nabhgadh, saffron flags were waving today with full pride, as if declaring freedom itself. After seven months of black fog, when the air was filled with only the smell of ash and death, today the golden rays of the sun were falling directly on the grand square of the palace. The same square where Andhak Void dark power had once cracked the stones, today children were playing there. The deep echo of drums was patting the air, and the fragrance of saffron and rose perfume was floating in the air.
At the huge window of the highest chamber of the palace, Akshansh stood. Today he had worn royal attire. A deep red tunic with fine gold thread embroidery, every leaf and flower so lifelike that it seemed they would move any moment. On his broad shoulders was a heavy royal shawl, with small pearls stitched on its border, moving gently in the light breeze. On his feet were leather shoes with silver gems.
But his real beauty was on his face. There was no longer that old restlessness, that fire ready to burn everything. In its place had come a serious stability. A peace that comes only after passing through deep pain. The line between his brows, the dark circles under his eyes, all reminded him of his father, Maharaj Prakash. But in his eyes there was a new spark. The spark of hope.
Just then, at the door of the chamber, there was a rustle of silk garments. A delicate, sweet sound, like leaves rubbing against each other. Akshansh turned and looked, and a spark came in his eyes that was reserved for only one person. A smile bloomed on the corners of his lips that could light up the entire chamber.
Vedika was entering. She was wearing a deep blue lehenga. That blue which was like the clear sky of Nabhgadh, when after rain the clouds clear and the blue becomes so deep that eyes want to drown in it. On the lehenga was star like embroidery with silver threads, shimmering with every step. Over it was a light blue dupatta with gold zari on its edges. Around her neck was a double string of pearls, and a small maang tika on her forehead was shining like a dot. Her black hair, which usually remained tied in a bun, was open today and waving on her back, only some strands tied with pearls.
But her greatest beauty was the strength hidden in her eyes. Those large, brown eyes that did not fear even on the battlefield, that had held Akshansh in his injured state, in which the same determination was shining today.
Maharaj is still not ready, Vedika came near and teased, her voice having the same old playfulness that used to drive Akshansh crazy. But now a queen dignity had also blended in that playfulness. A sweetness that was both powerful and gentle.
Akshansh smiled, a soft sparkle in his eyes. He held Vedika hand. Her hand was soft, but strong, fingers long and artistic, but small marks of sword fighting on her palms. He gently pressed her fingers, a silent communication.
The affairs of the palace and files have surrounded me so much, Akshansh said, tiredness in his voice but no complaint, that I lost track of time. Today we have to visit those villages that were most devastated in the war. Shyampur and Neergadh. Their crops burned, houses collapsed.
Vedika placed her hand on his chest, on his tunic. The coolness of her hand, the softness of her fingers, calmed all the turmoil inside Akshansh. We will do it, Akshansh. Together. This morning itself I arranged grain and new clothes from the storehouse. Five hundred sacks of wheat, two hundred sacks of chickpeas, and a stock of woolen blankets are ready. The people will not face shortage of food, nor fear of cold.
Akshansh pulled her slightly toward him, looking deep into her eyes. In those deep brown eyes where his own reflection could be seen. You know, Vedika, he said softly, his voice becoming a whisper, sometimes at night when everyone is asleep, I get scared. Will I be able to become a great king like my father? Will I be able to turn the ashes of this kingdom into gold again? Will I be able to uphold that justice for which they gave their lives?
Vedika placed her other hand on his cheek, her fingers lightly touching his skin. In her touch was that coolness that calmed every storm, every doubt, every fear inside Akshansh. You are Akshansh. You have done what seemed impossible. You have defeated Andhak Void. The power that everyone thought was invincible. A kings job is not just to build palaces or expand borders, Akshansh. A kings real job is to win the trust of his people. And you have already won that. When you sat on the throne for the first time after the war, the hope in peoples eyes. That you have won.
In the afternoon, Akshansh and Vedika went out into the streets of the city without any heavy retinue, only four trusted guards. Akshansh had taken off his heavy royal attire and worn a simple saffron tunic, and Vedika had put a simple white dupatta over her blue lehenga. They wanted people to see them with trust, not fear.
They saw that people were decorating their houses with lime and colors again. Every wall with new colors, every door with new torans. Markets were regaining their shine. Vegetable sellers were arranging their baskets, potters drying new pots in the sun, and the sound of hammer strikes was echoing from the blacksmith shop. Life was returning.
In the main square of Shyampur village, an old woman, whose age marks were visible in every wrinkle on her face, came to Akshansh. She knelt, then held his hands and kissed them. Her hands were trembling, and tears were in her eyes.
Maharaj, her voice was cracked, filled with emotions, you returned. Our happiness returned. My three sons were martyred in the war, my house burned to ashes. But today. Today I have lit the hearth again. Because you returned.
Akshansh became emotional. He bent down and lifted that woman, placing his hand on her head. A gentle, father like touch. Then he took out a gold coin from his neck. The same coin his father had given him on the day he became king, with the symbol of Nabhgadh carved on it. He placed that coin in the old woman hand.
This is your sons sacrifice, Akshansh said, his voice firm but filled with emotions. Keep it carefully. Whenever you feel alone, it will remind you that your three sons were martyred for this land, and their king can never forget you.
He looked at Vedika, who was standing a few steps away watching this scene. There were tears of pride in Vedika eyes. The pride a queen feels for her king, and the pride a woman feels for her husband.
In the evening, when they returned to the palace, both were physically tired, but mentally filled with a strange peace. The sun was setting and such a beauty of orange and purple colors was spread in the sky, as if someone had set fire to an ocean of colors. The mountain peaks were shining like gold.
In a secret gallery of the palace, where only royal family members could reach, Akshansh had arranged a small table for Vedika. This gallery was in the eastern part of the palace, and from here the entire valley was visible. The silver like stream of the river, the green ocean of forests, and the twinkling lights of distant villages. On the table were only fresh fruits. Grapes, pomegranates, apples. A bowl of honey, and two lamps burning, their flames dancing in the light breeze.
Thank you for today, Vedika said, sitting near the table, adjusting her dupatta slightly. She rested her head on Akshansh shoulder, the warmth of her breath touching his skin.
Akshansh tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers lost in her soft hair. I should be the one thanking you. You are not just my queen, Vedika. You are my strength. When I lay bleeding on the battlefield, when Andhak Void dark energy was poisoning my veins, it was your voice that made me stand again. Get up, Akshansh. Get up and fight. Your voice kept echoing in my ears.
Vedika closed her eyes, a faint smile floating on her lips. I remember, Akshansh. That night when we thought we would never meet again. When you were brought to the palace injured, and the healer said you had no hope of survival. I spent three days and three nights by your bed, holding your hand. I prayed that if there is a god, let him return you to me. And look. Today we are together. We have a new kingdom, a new future. In our hands is a heritage that we can nurture.
Akshansh kissed her gently. A soft, deep kiss containing all the love, all the gratitude, all the promise. Then he held her tight in his arms, pressing her soft body against his. I make you a promise, Vedika. As long as my breath lasts, as long as my heart beats, I will not let any harm come to this Nabhgadh and to the smile in your eyes. I will keep every morning of this earth safe for you, and every night peaceful for your dreams.
Just then, a sudden, strong gust of wind came. So strong that one of the lamps on the table went out, smoke rising. Vedika shivered slightly, tightening her grip on Akshansh, her fingers digging into his tunic.
What happened, Akshansh asked, concern in his voice. He looked at Vedika face. It had turned a little pale, eyes wide.
Vedika looked toward the distant horizon, where darkness was deepening and the shapes of mountains were looking like black demons. I don't know. Just for a moment it felt as if someone was watching us. Someone very far away, but still very close. A very old and heavy power. As if something had awakened.
Akshansh comforted her, stroking her hair. It is just your tiredness, my love. It was a long day. We have ended the darkness. Nabhgadh is safe now.
But inside Akshansh too, a small pang rose. A worry, a memory. He remembered the message from Prakashgadh in which Acharya Neer had mentioned the imbalance of the void, about that mysterious power that could come to fill the space left by Andhak Void. He decided that he would not spoil this moment of happiness, this peaceful evening, for Vedika. Tomorrow he would send a message to Acharya Neer. For today. Today this moment was enough.
In the peace of the night, both held each other hands and kept admiring that view. Nabhgadh was now sleeping. A deep, peaceful sleep, like a child sleeping in its mother lap. The lights of far spread houses were going out one by one, and stars had appeared in the sky. Countless, bright, peaceful.
But above that sleep, behind those peaceful stars, the stars of destiny were weaving a new story. A story in which the test of love and loyalty was yet to come. And the young king and queen of Nabhgadh, hands in hands, were waiting for that future. Fearless, united, and bound in the bond of their love.
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