The grand court of Suryagarh was in session the next day. As Maharani, Viddhi sat on a throne slightly smaller than Vidhaan's, a position of power that felt like a gilded cage. Chacha Veervar Singh was also present, a steady, calming presence. The proceedings were interrupted when guards ushered in a poor farmer, his clothes torn and his face etched with despair.
"Maharaj," the farmer pleaded, joining his hands, "My entire crop has burned to ashes. I have nothing left to feed my family. I have come to seek your shelter."
Vidhaan listened with a grave intensity that surprised Viddhi. He then turned to his treasurer. "From the royal coffers, grant this man one hundred gold coins so he may restart his life."
Tears streamed down the farmer's face as he fell at the King's feet. "Maharaj! You are a god on earth! A million thanks to you!"
Viddhi watched the entire scene in silence, a storm of confusion raging within her. 'Is this the same man who murdered my parents? The one so ruthless he didn't spare an old king's head? Why is he so compassionate towards his subjects today?'
🤔The Paradox of the Tyrant
Back in the solitude of her chamber after the court adjourned, Viddhi stood by the window, her mind a battlefield. The image of the grateful farmer clashed violently with the phantom screams of her mother.
'Is it all an act? A performance to appear noble before his people? Or...' she allowed the treacherous thought to form, 'does he genuinely have two faces? One that would do anything for power, and another that truly cares for his people?'
She remembered the night he had placed the necklace around her throat, the concern in his eyes when she had stumbled. She recalled Chacha Veervar Singh's words: "Vidhaan has suffered a great deal of pain..."
But then, she forcibly summoned the memory of her mother's last, gasping breath. The image of her father's severed head, a memory that would forever be seared behind her eyelids.
'No! How can I forget! This is all a pretense! A cruel ruler's way of charming his subjects!' she scolded herself, her internal voice sharp and unforgiving. 'Perhaps he loves his people, but he showed no love for my family. He showed no mercy when he beheaded my father. He showed no pity when he struck my mother down from behind.'
The fire of vengeance rekindled in her eyes. 'No matter how great he appears to the world, to me, he will always be a murderer.'
The Unmasking Resolve
Viddhi solidified her resolve. She would not fall for this illusion. She thought to herself, her determination hardening like diamond:
'The more magnanimous you appear before your people, the more I will know you are a magnificent fraud. Your kindness cannot wash away your crimes.'
'You think you can wear two faces? One for your people, and one for your enemies? But I will show the world your third face—that of a murderer, an arrogant usurper, and a throne thief.'
She clenched her fists. 'And the day this false mask of yours falls, the entire kingdom will see who you truly are.'
Viddhi now understood that her battle was not just against Vidhaan, but against the false image he projected. And in this battle, her first and most difficult fight was to convince herself that Vidhaan's benevolent side was merely a mirage.
The Riding Lesson: An Invitation
The next morning, as Viddhi gazed out of her chamber window, her eyes fell upon the royal grounds. There, Raja Vidhaan was astride a magnificent white stallion, his riding skills so masterful and graceful that Viddhi found herself momentarily captivated. The early sun gleamed off the horse's coat and the King's regal attire, creating a picture of perfect royalty.
Just then, Vidhaan looked up and saw her at the window. A warm, spontaneous smile broke across his face. He immediately dismounted and gestured for her to come down.
Within minutes, he was at her chamber door. "Maharani, you saw me riding? Would you perhaps like to learn?"
Viddhi declined humbly, "No, Maharaj, I do not know how to ride."
"No matter, I will teach you myself!" Vidhaan said with genuine enthusiasm.
"But Maharaj... I... I am afraid of horses," Viddhi fabricated a fear, her voice trembling slightly.
Vidhaan's smile was encouraging. "Come now, Maharani, nothing will happen. I will keep you safe. Trust me."
The Irony of Trust
The word 'trust' from Vidhaan's lips sparked a wave of bitter, ironic laughter within Viddhi. 'Trust? And in you? My God! What a colossal irony this is!'
But she let none of it show on her face. Externally, she remained the picture of a timid, hesitant new bride.
"Maharaj... I..." she hesitated, her eyes wide.
"Come on, Maharani," Vidhaan said softly, taking her hand. "Just give it one try. If you feel scared, I will bring you back immediately."
Viddhi finally nodded in assent. 'Very well, Vidhaan. I will play your game. Let's see how long you can keep up this act of the doting lover.'
The First Lesson
Viddhi descended to the grounds with Vidhaan. A gentle, brown mare named Mehndi was waiting for them.
"She is very calm," Vidhaan introduced her. "She would never harm anyone."
Vidhaan led Viddhi to the horse with infinite patience. "First, befriend her. Pat her."
Viddhi tentatively patted the mare's neck. Vidhaan stood close, watching over her every moment.
"Now, I will teach you to mount," Vidhaan said.
Viddhi observed that he was, in fact, a patient and excellent teacher, attentive to every small detail. 'If only... if only this were real. If only you were truly the man you appear to be.'
But then she steeled herself. 'No, Vidhika! This is all a tactic. This is the act of a tender heart to make you let your guard down.'
After an hour of practice, Viddhi said, "Maharaj, let us stop now. I am tired."
Vidhaan immediately agreed. "As you wish, Maharani. You did very well today."
As Viddhi walked back towards the palace, Vidhaan called out from behind, "Shall we try again tomorrow, Maharani?"
Viddhi turned back, offering a slight smile and a nod. But her mind held only one thought: 'Yes, we will meet again tomorrow, Vidhaan. And each day, I will grow stronger at dismantling this web of your false love.'
The Sunrise Ride
The next morning, with the first rays of the sun, Vidhaan was at her chamber door. "Maharani, shall we begin today's lesson?" There was a different, brighter gleam in his eyes today.
Viddhi nodded. Today, he led her to the vast gardens behind the palace, where the sun's rays glittered on the dew-kissed grass.
"Today, I will teach you to ride on your own," Vidhaan announced.
The Shelter of His Arms
Vidhaan helped Viddhi onto the horse, but today, he decided to mount behind her. "Do not be afraid, Maharani, I am right behind you."
As Vidhaan took the reins, Viddhi found herself enclosed within the circle of his arms. His voice was soft near her ear. "Hold the reins like this... with my hands."
His hands were over hers, his breath warm against her ear. Viddhi's heart began to pound—whether from fear or some other emotion, she could not decipher.
A Romantic Moment
The horse began to walk at a gentle pace. "Look, Maharani," Vidhaan murmured, "what a beautiful sight. All of Suryagarh lies before us."
Viddhi looked. The sun's rays bathed the golden domes of the palace in a heavenly light, and birds chirped in the trees. Vidhaan continued, his voice low and intimate, "I always thought... whenever I would share this view with someone, she would be my life partner."
Viddhi remained silent, but a tempest raged within her. 'Why? Why are you speaking with such affection? Is this real, or just another one of your ploys?'
An Emotional Confession
A little while later, Vidhaan halted the horse and helped Viddhi dismount. "You learned very well today, Maharani."
"Your teaching method is very good, Maharaj," Viddhi thanked him.
Vidhaan's expression grew serious. "Viddhi... may I say one thing?"
Viddhi looked at him, surprised. It was the first time he had addressed her by her name instead of 'Maharani'.
"Whenever I am with you," Vidhaan said with a tenderness that felt devastatingly real, "it feels as if every sorrow of my life has vanished. A single smile from you means everything to me."
The Heart's Conflict
Unwanted tears welled in Viddhi's eyes. His words, so full of love, reminded her of her husband, Ayaan, who used to speak to her in the same way.
"What is it, Maharani? Did I say something wrong?" Vidhaan grew concerned.
"No... no, Maharaj," Viddhi wiped her tears hastily, "It's just... the sun is in my eyes."
Vidhaan reached out and wiped a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Let's go back to the palace."
All the way back, Viddhi's mind was a whirlwind. 'This man cannot be the one who destroyed my family. Or perhaps... perhaps people can change? But no... I cannot forget. I can never forget.'
A Night of Reckoning
That night, Viddhi stood by her window. Vidhaan's loving words echoed in her ears. 'Can someone really act this well? Could the concern in his eyes, the love... could it be fake?'
But then she remembered her brother Veer's words: "It was someone from within who attacked, Vidhika."
Viddhi closed her eyes, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. 'No, I cannot afford to be weak. No matter how much love he shows, I must not forget my goal.'
: As she turned from the window, her eyes fell on the magnificent necklace he had given her, lying on her dresser. In the moonlight, she noticed something she hadn't before. Etched into the central diamond's setting, almost invisible to the naked eye, was a tiny, intricate symbol—the same secret royal insignia her father used to mark all his personal belongings. A sign meant only for his children. The necklace wasn't just a gift from a husband; it was a message. Her father's spirit was somehow, impossibly, reaching out to her from the past, confirming her path. The game had just become infinitely more complex.