✦𑁍 Chronicle Note 𑁍
Timeframe: Late 1830s CE, a few years after the Great Southern War
State of the Realm:
Under Narasimha's rule or solid control:
Entire Southern Confederated Kingdom
Rayalaseema
Andhra
Tamilakam
Karnataka
Kerala
Goa and much of the Konkan coast
Most of modern Maharashtra's Deccan
Roughly half of modern Chhattisgarh
Over 80% of modern Odisha, including its coastline
Deep into central India, touching the borders of:
modern Gujarat in the west
modern Madhya Pradesh in the north
Hyderabad was fully subdued and integrated as a restructured province
The centre and south of the subcontinent, once a patchwork of Company territories and native states, was now a continuous belt under the Lion Banner.
The British still held:
Bengal and the Gangetic plains
Delhi and its puppet throne
Remaining central provinces
Pockets of western and northern India
But the age of unchallenged red on the map was gone.
I. The Map of a New Bharat
In the great council hall of Kesarinagara, late afternoon light fell across a map that had taken three months to draw and six centuries to make possible.
It was the first map of Bharat commissioned fully by Narasimha's court:
free of British lines,
free of the Company's smug notations.
Sri and a team of scholars and engineers had overseen its creation:
hand-measured routes from Rayalaseema to Odisha,
coastal soundings from Malabar to Goa,
notes taken from old Maratha archives and new Dakshina surveys.
Now that the map lay unrolled across a long teak table.
The Lion Banner's colour washed over:
the southern peninsula
the Deccan plateau
The Coast Arc of Kalinga–Odisha
Hyderabad's once-proud domains
central provinces reaching up to new frontier forts near Gujarat and Madhya Pradesh.
A faint line, drawn with a different ink, marked the current northern limit of Dakshina Rajya.
Narasimha stood at the table's head, hands resting on the wood.
Ayyappa, Sri, Venkanna, Kaveri, and a few select ministers gathered around.
Ayyappa let out a low whistle.
"If some bard had sung this to us when you were just the heir in Uyyalawada," he said, "I would have called it a drunk man's prophecy."
Venkanna's gaze moved slowly across the map.
"You have:
freed the South from the Company's grip,
taken Goa from European claws,
turned Hyderabad from a British spear into your shield,
linked east and west coasts under one dharmic crown,"
He said quietly.
Kaveri's finger traced from Kurnool—now Kesarinagara—to the new outposts near the Narmada.
"And you have stopped here," she said, tapping the faint northern line. "For now."
Narasimha nodded.
"Yes," he said. "For now.
Every step north from this line would:
stretch our supply lines,
test our administrators,
risk turning liberators into mere conquerors."
He pointed to various regions:
"Hyderabad needs:
courts purged of old corruption,
new schools planted like seeds.
Odisha's coast must:
be woven into our maritime network,
protected against pirates and smugglers loyal to the old order.
The Deccan:
carries memories of Maratha glory and British betrayal, both.
If we rush further north before these lands breathe fully, we build an empire on sand."
Sri added, voice measured,
"Our scribes report that:
local elites are still adjusting,
villagers are only beginning to trust that our taxes are different from the Company's extortions,
Children in Deccan and Kalinga have only just started entering our schools."
She looked up.
"A kingdom can be taken in a season," she said. "But a civilisation needs generations."
Outside the hall, rumors already ran:
"The lion has stopped advancing because he wishes to strengthen his lair."
In London and Calcutta, they chose a different interpretation.
They called it:
"The lion has stopped because he cannot go further."
They would soon learn how wrong that was.
II. Panic and Scheming – British Eyes on the Lion 1. Calcutta – The Edge of Admittance
In Calcutta, humid air and the stink of the Hooghly did nothing to cool tempers.
The Governor-General stared at the latest situation map, his fingers digging into its edges.
"Hyderabad," his military advisor said flatly, "is gone.
Not just rebellious—integrated.
Our banners:
have disappeared from most of the Deccan,
are being torn down in Odisha's coastal towns,
are nowhere to be seen south of the central belt."
"And he has halted?" the Governor-General asked.
"Scouts report," the advisor answered, "that he's fortifying the new boundaries.
No major offensives since the last wave.
He's building roads, canals, and schools.
He's not resting.
He's entrenching."
The Governor-General's thoughts churned.
"If he had overreached," he said, "we could wait for him to overstretch.
But he is doing what we do:
stabilise,
reorganise,
move from raw conquest to administration."
The word he did not say was "Empire".
But the map said it for him.
2. London – The End of Comfortable Illusions
In London, the East India Company's palatial boardroom felt smaller than ever.
The directors stared at a redrawn India: south and centre washed in another colour, marked with lion symbols.
"Look at this," one director snarled. "That swathe—Rayalaseema, Deccan, Goa, Kalinga, Hyderabad.
All that revenue, all those ports, gone."
"Not gone," another corrected bitterly. "Transferred—from our ledgers to his treasury."
"You told us," a third rounded on an older member, "that this was a 'contained rebellion'."
"That was before he beat a joint British–Hyderabadi force," the man shot back. "Before he took Goa."
Anger rippled.
But beneath it was fear.
Ellington, the Foreign Secretary, stepped in.
"This is not just about revenue," he said tightly. "If one Indian power can hold:
both southern coasts,
the Deccan heartland,
central arteries…
Then in a few decades, they can:
build a fleet larger than our Eastern Squadron,
decide which European nation gets access to which Indian port,
choke or favour trade routes as they please."
A silence settled.
No one in that room liked imagining a future where European powers had to beg permission from an Indian court to move goods across Indian waters.
"We can't simply launch another war," one minister said. "We barely survived the last.
Our finances, our politics—our people are tired of endless Eastern adventures."
"Then we don't fight him alone," Ellington said.
"We make the rest of Europe see him as a problem for them, not just an English embarrassment.
We show them a map of the Indian Ocean and ask:
'Do you want this king deciding how your ships move?'"
And so, letters went out to:
Paris,
Vienna,
Berlin,
Lisbon,
Amsterdam,
St. Petersburg.
A "Conference on Eastern Stability and Maritime Trade" was called.
Everyone knew what it really was.
III. The Concert of Crowns – Europe Gathers
The hall in London was decorated with maps, charts, and paintings of sea battles.
Officials and diplomats arrived from:
France – amused, wary
Austria – cautious
Prussia – calculating
Portugal – humiliated and angry over Goa
The Netherlands – mercantile and pragmatic
Russia – observant and silent
Smaller German and Italian states – curious
At the far end stood a massive map of Asia.
This time, the British had been forced to update it:
The southern half of India was not red.
It was coloured in a new shade, with a stylised lion sigil.
Ellington addressed the gathering.
"Gentlemen," he said, voice-controlled, "we are not just here as Englishmen, Frenchmen, Austrians, or others.
We are here as states whose access to India and its seas underpins much of our trade."
He gestured to the map.
"The Dakshina Kingdom, under Narasimha Reddy, now controls:
all of the southern peninsula,
Goa and much of the western coast,
Hyderabad,
most of the Deccan,
the coastline of Odisha,
and reaches into central India, almost touching Gujarat and deep near the Narmada."
A murmur.
A French representative frowned thoughtfully.
"And he has stopped?" he asked. "He is not marching further?"
"For the moment," Ellington replied. "He consolidates.
That is the danger.
He is not a mad conqueror burning out in his own flames.
He is building a stable power."
He let that sink in.
"If he goes further," Ellington continued, "he can:
control nearly all Indian ports,
dominate the Indian Ocean trade,
choose which of you gets favourable access and which does not."
"You mean," the Frenchman said mildly, "you fear one Indian king might do to you what you once did to the Mughals."
The Portuguese envoy, tight-lipped, added,
"He has already humiliated us at Goa.
If he consolidates, he becomes not just a local king, but a maritime empire.
Then our days of easy ports in India are over."
The Austrian delegate, ever cautious, spoke.
"A single strong Eastern empire," he said, "might upset the balance of power far more than a dozen British-shaped protectorates.
Today it pinches England.
Tomorrow, it may pinch all of us."
The Russian observer said nothing. But in his calm eyes, a thought lingered:
"A British Empire checked in India… is not altogether bad for Russia."
Ellington pressed the moment.
"We propose," he said, "not a crusade, but an equilibrium:
We recognise his current territories de facto. We accept that we cannot push him back without ruinous cost.
In return, we force him into a Treaty of Long Peace:
No further military expansion for seventy years.
Guaranteed access for all European powers to the Indian seas and Dakshina ports.
A halt to any ambition to unite the entire subcontinent under his banner.
If he refuses, we retain the option of:
joint pressure,
economic sanctions,
naval demonstrations,
under the banner of protecting 'freedom of trade'."
Slowly, reluctantly, most of Europe agreed:
Britain could not be allowed to fall entirely in India.
Nor could a single Indian power be allowed to dominate the Indian Ocean unchecked.
And so, they drafted what they thought would be a clever cage made of polite words:
The Treaty of Eastern Equilibrium.
IV. The Message and the Lion's Council
Back in Kesarinagara, months later, an envoy stood before Narasimha's council.
He bore letters carrying the seals of multiple crowns.
Sri broke the seals and read aloud.
The offer was generous on the surface:
Europe would recognise Dakshina Rajya's current borders and sovereignty.
They would treat Narasimha as a legitimate Eastern monarch, not a rebel.
In return:
Narasimha would agree not to expand by war into British or allied Indian territories for seventy years.
He would guarantee open ports and fair treatment to European merchants.
He would "avoid acts likely to destabilise" British-ruled provinces.
He would "consult" with European powers on major external treaties.
Ayyappa snorted.
"So," he said, "they admit we exist, but want our sword wrapped in a seventy-year cloth, and our tongue tied to their approval."
Venkanna's brows knitted.
"Seventy years," he said, "is more than a man's lifetime for them.
For you, Maharaja…" he trailed off.
Kaveri finished softly,
"For him, it is just one long heartbeat."
Narasimha's eyes stayed on the parchment.
"If I were only a conqueror," he said quietly, "I would reject this and march north.
But I am not only that.
Our new provinces need:
laws,
canals,
schools,
factories,
trust."
He looked at Sri.
"If Europe truly locks its cannons away for seventy years," he said, "our gurukulas and foundries, our shipyards and spy networks will grow in peace.
When those seventy years end…" his gaze turned distant, "the world itself will be different."
Sri nodded slowly.
"But," she said, "if we accept as-is, we accept:
their right to define 'destabilising',
their right to choke our goods quietly,
their right to demand that we stay mute while others in Bharat suffer."
Ayyappa leaned forward.
"So we reject it?" he asked.
Narasimha shook his head.
"No," he said. "We do not reject.
We reshape.
If Europe wants me to sheath my sword in one direction, then they will pay:
with recognition that cannot be undone,
with free arteries through the rest of Bharat,
with tariffs that do not treat us as less than their pale cousins."
He looked around the table.
"Prepare," he said.
"We will not argue only on paper.
We will meet them on the ground where neither side can pretend to be the host."
V. The Meeting on Neutral Waters
After much back-and-forth, a compromise was reached:
not London,
not Kesarinagara,
but a Mediterranean island port, under a minor European crown, accessible to all.
Narasimha sailed there on one of his finest ships.
His flagship entered the harbour under full sail, lion emblem snapping in the sea breeze.
European onlookers watched:
drilled deck crews,
disciplined marines,
cannons that were no longer borrowed Western pieces, but hybrids refined in Dakshina's foundries.
He came ashore in simple, regal attire:
no ostentatious jewels,
a lion-headed torque at his neck,
Kaveri at his side, eyes steady,
Sri and Venkanna are just behind.
In the summit hall, the tables were set with care:
British and Allied foreign ministers on one side,
Narasimha's delegation opposite,
other European representatives positioned between and around.
No raised dais.
No throne.
Just a level floor and maps on the walls.
Ellington began with smooth courtesy.
"Your Majesty Narasimha Reddy," he said, "Europe acknowledges your strength and achievements.
We seek:
not renewed chaos,
but a framework where your realm and our interests can coexist."
Narasimha inclined his head slightly.
"In the last decade," he replied, "your 'interests' burned our villages and marched through our fields.
Coexistence was not your first thought then.
But I did not come here to argue history.
I came because I, too, want my children to see fewer widows on our roads."
He gestured.
"Speak your terms. Then you will hear mine."
1. Europe's Cage, Polished in Diplomacy
Ellington outlined the European conditions:
Dakshina's current borders would be recognised by signatory powers.
For seventy years, Narasimha would:
not initiate wars to annex more Indian territories from British rule or allied Indian states,
avoid military actions that could "threaten the stability" of British India,
guarantee non-discriminatory treatment for European merchants and ships in his ports,
coordinate on any major treaty affecting wider Eastern trade.
"The seas," Ellington said, "must remain open.
No single power should be able to close the gates of India's oceans at will."
He did not say, "No single non-European power," but that was the line ringing in many minds.
2. The Lion's Terms – A Different Kind of Empire
Narasimha listened.
He let silence stretch for a heartbeat too long.
Then he spoke.
"Sri," he said, "read our counter."
Sri stepped forward and unrolled a second scroll.
Her voice was calm, but each clause struck like a measured drumbeat.
a) Sovereignty Without Euphemism
"You will not," Narasimha said, "call my lands 'rebellious territories' or 'temporary occupations.'
You will:
recognise Goa, Hyderabad, Deccan, Odisha, and all lands under my banner as permanent parts of Dakshina Rajya,
cease efforts to restore any of your pet dynasties there,
instruct your governors and captains:
that my envoys are to be treated as representatives of a sovereign state, not a gilded vassal of your company."
A murmur.
b) True Mutual Non-Interference
"For seventy years," Narasimha continued, "I will not:
march my armies to seize Bengal,
put Delhi to siege,
cut your caravan lines with open banners.
In return, you will:
not send your fleets against my ports,
not mass your regiments on my borders under flimsy excuses,
not sponsor open invasions against my allies.
If you break this with:
artillery,
blockades,
or invasion,
then the treaty is broken by you, and I owe you nothing but resistance."
c) Unhindered Passage Through Bharat
"My merchants," he said, eyes steady on Ellington, "are Bharatiya.
Just as much as the peasants in Bengal or the weavers in Agra.
You will:
allow Dakshina goods, caravans, and pilgrims to pass through British-held territories,
impose no special bans or extra taxes on Dakshina goods beyond what you impose on your most favoured European nation,
not try to strangulate us economically while pretending peace."
"If you block us selectively," Sri added, "do not expect us to pretend the treaty stands."
d) Freedom to Speak with the North
"I accept your wish that I will not take the north by sword in this span," Narasimha said.
"But my tongue is my own.
I will retain:
the right to send and receive embassies from Lahore, Rajputana, Satara, Awadh, Kathmandu, Thimphu, and others,
the right to sign peaceful trade and cultural treaties with them."
"Bharat's soul," he said quietly, "cannot be cut along red lines drawn in London.
We are one civilisation with many crowns.
I will not pretend my brothers do not exist because it is convenient for you."
e) I Am Not Your Policeman
"Understand this well," he continued.
"If, in the future, your misrule sparks rebellion in your provinces, this treaty does not bind me to:
crush those rebels,
Send my soldiers to die for your order,
Act as your imperial constable.
I reserve the right:
to stay neutral,
to offer refuge,
or to support ideas that favour freedom.
This treaty is about swords, not about shackling thought."
f) Trade, Yes. Submission, No.
"You will have access to my ports and markets," he said.
"But:
You will not demand extraterritorial courts on my soil,
you will not insist your merchants be exempt from my laws,
you will not dump goods solely to destroy our crafts without expecting countermeasures."
"If you truly believe in this word 'fair' that you put in your documents," he finished, "let it apply to brown hands as much as to white ones."
The hall was very still.
Some Europeans felt shocked.
Others, a strange flicker of respect.
It was one thing to face an Indian king on a battlefield.
Quite another to face him on a treaty table, and realise he understood:
balance of power,
optics,
and economics,
as well as any European minister.
VI. The Treaty of Eastern Equilibrium
Negotiations did not end in a day.
There were:
drafts,
counter-drafts,
late-night arguments in side rooms,
whispered consultations in French, English, German, and Persian.
But slowly, a shape emerged.
The final Treaty of Eastern Equilibrium contained:
Recognition of Dakshina Rajya's borders as they stood, including Goa and Hyderabad.
A seventy-year mutual non-interference clause between Dakshina Rajya and European powers in military terms on Indian soil:
No European invasions or blockades of Dakshina.
No Dakshina offensives against British-held or allied Indian territories.
Clauses ensuring:
Dakshina merchants could trade through British India without targeted discrimination.
Tariffs on Dakshina goods in European ports would not exceed those on other favoured nations.
Dakshina retained the right to sign peaceful treaties with other Indian states.
No obligation on Dakshina to suppress uprisings in British territories.
Both sides knew:
This would not end espionage,
nor stop cultural and religious influence games,
nor kill ambition.
But it wrapped large-scale war in layers of parchment.
When Narasimha finally pressed his seal onto the treaty, Ellington watched him.
"You have won much," Ellington said quietly. "Land, power, recognition."
Narasimha replied just as quietly,
"I have bought time.
Time is where real empires are made or broken."
VII. The Deccan's Smile – Maratha Responses
News of the treaty and the final borders spread across the Deccan.
In Satara, an elderly Maratha sardar traced the new lines.
He saw:
much of the old Maratha Deccan—now under a Bharatiya king who did not answer to London.
British power pushed back behind new frontiers.
"So," he murmured, "the south lion has not come to erase us.
He has:
taken the weight of the Company's boot off our necks,
kept our language and local sabhas alive,
invited us into a larger Bharatiya fold instead of being his vassals in name only."
Younger Maratha nobles debated.
"Are we not under his shadow now?" one asked.
An elder answered,
"Better a shadow that:
prays where we pray,
eats what we eat,
and sends his children to learn Sanskrit and Persian both,
than a shadow from far lands that calls our gods devils and our customs filth.
He calls it a confederation.
We send troops to his wars; we get:
trade routes,
schools,
and a voice in a larger Sabha."
Gradually, agreements were made:
Maratha chiefs accepted integration as confederated provinces with considerable autonomy.
Their sons rode south to be trained in Rayalaseema academies.
Their merchants joined the Dakshina Merchant Alliance, now reaching from Oman to Kalinga.
For the first time since the Peshwa's fall, Deccan Marathas could breathe as something more than anxious tenants of a foreign Company.
VIII. The Northern Gaze – Sikh, Rajput, Delhi, and the Hills 1. Lahore – Lion Recognises Lion
In Lahore, Maharaja Ranjit Singh listened as his vakil summarised the treaty.
He heard:
that Europe had formally recognised Dakshina Rajya,
that British armies could not march south for seventy years without breaking their own word,
That Narasimha had secured free movement of his people across parts of Bharat, he did not rule.
Ranjit Singh chuckled, his one good eye gleaming.
"So," he said, "the English, who came with:
muskets in one hand,
doctrines of superiority in the other,
have been forced to:
sit at a table,
bargain as equals,
and sign a document admitting there is at least one Eastern king they cannot bully."
An advisor asked,
"Does this southern expansion threaten us, Maharaj?"
Ranjit shook his head.
"Today, he does not march north," he said. "Today, we both:
keep the Firangi at arm's length in our spheres."
He raised a cup.
"To Narasimha Reddy," he said. "Who forced the English to taste the medicine they fed others?"
He sent a letter south:
"From one lion to another:
You have not traded Bharat's future for your safety.
When I join our ancestors, I will tell them that in the south, one like them walks again."
2. Rajputana – Stone and Sand Think
In Rajputana, desert kingdoms watched carefully.
A Rajput ruler in Udaipur examined the map.
"Our neighbours to the south," he said, "are now:
one realm,
strong,
and bound by treaty not to march armies our way—for seventy years."
"That gives us," a minister said, "two or three generations to:
strengthen our forts,
modernise our own forces,
choose our alliances."
Some Rajputs opened discreet channels:
trade missions to Kesarinagara,
offers to exchange military trainers and scholars,
trial treaties for caravan protection.
The Thar and Aravallis, used to being crossed by anyone with ambition, found that for once, someone else had taken the brunt of foreign fire.
3. Delhi's Fading Peacock & Old Sultanate Echoes
In Delhi, the nominal Mughal emperor, more figurehead than sovereign, sat in his diminished court.
Poets, as always, adapted quicker than politics.
One wrote, quietly:
"In the south, a lion raises schools and arms in equal measure.
Here, the Peacock Throne gathers dust beneath strange boots.
Perhaps Takht-e-Hind has not moved to London.
Perhaps it is being reforged in Kesarinagara."
The old Delhi Sultanate remained a memory, but among scholars and Sufi circles, a new idea took root:
"The English are not invincible. They can be:
– defeated in battle,
– forced into treaties,
– made to share space."
In the shadows, young men whispered:
of Narasimha's victories,
of Ranjit Singh's defiance,
of a subcontinent no longer entirely bent under one foreign will.
4. Nepal & Bhutan – Mountains Watch
In Kathmandu, Nepalese advisors studied the news.
"With the British checked in the south," one said, "their gaze is split.
They must guard both:
their northern frontier,
and this lion-ruled south."
The king nodded.
"Good," he said. "We will:
fortify,
modernise where wise,
watch both English and Dakshina envoys.
If either slips, we'll be ready."
In Bhutan, smaller but equally proud, councils reached similar conclusions.
The Himalayas had seen many empires rise and fall in the plains.
This was another turn of the wheel.
IX. Europe and America – Calculations and Opportunities 1. Europe's Adjusted Lens
In Paris, the foreign minister read the final treaty with wry satisfaction.
"So the English," he remarked, "have had to:
acknowledge a powerful Indian state,
bind their own hands in its direction,
promise fair treatment in trade.
How… novel."
An aide commented,
"And the Dakshina ports, Minister?"
The minister smiled.
"We will send our ships," he said. "We get:
access to Indian goods,
a partner who resents English arrogance,
and we don't have to fire a single cannon for it."
In Lisbon, Portugal mourned Goa formally, but clung to treaty clauses that preserved trading rights under Dakshina law.
In Vienna and Berlin, the treaty was one more sign:
the old model of colonial domination was cracking,
new kinds of powers—non-European, organised, modernising—were entering the game.
In St. Petersburg, a Russian strategist remarked,
"With the English constrained in one part of India and embarrassed in another, their attention is divided.
If we move in Central Asia later, their hands will not be entirely free."
2. Washington – A Future Partner
Across the ocean, in Washington, US officials updated their reports.
"Dakshina Rajya," one memo stated,
"is now recognised as an independent Eastern power with:
– considerable territory,
– internal stability,
– treaty-defined peace with Europe,
– open trade commitments."
"That," an American diplomat said, "is:
a potential ally against European monopolies,
a direct trade partner for Indian goods,
and, in time, perhaps a strategic counterweight."
No one there yet imagined:
vibranium debates,
Sokovia Accords,
interstellar crises.
But they already saw the outline of a world where not every major player was European.
X. The Lion and the Horizon
When Narasimha returned to Kesarinagara, the signed treaty was placed in the archives beside:
war banners,
early school charters,
the first sketches of universities and factories he hoped to build.
In a smaller chamber, he sat with Sri, Venkanna, and Kaveri.
Rudrama Devi and Rajendra were allowed to sit in a corner, quiet as mice, ears sharp.
Sri summarized the essence.
"For seventy years," she said, "no European power may:
openly invade,
blockade,
or attack us without betraying their own signatures."
Venkanna added,
"In that time we can:
deepen our schools,
spread our trade,
expand Trinetra's web even beyond the seas,
build fleets the world has not yet seen."
Kaveri looked at the treaty, then at her husband.
"You have tied your sword with your own hand," she said. "Does it not chafe?"
Narasimha smiled faintly.
"It does," he admitted. "But I have freed other limbs.
They cannot:
blockade us casually,
pen us in economically,
split us from the rest of Bharat with simple edicts.
Instead of fighting them every decade with steel, we fight them every day:
with trade,
with ideas,
with hidden eyes and patient hearts."
Rudrama piped up, unable to hold it in.
"Nanna," she said, "if you cannot fight them for seventy years, what will we do when we grow up?"
He laughed softly.
"You," he said, "will:
run councils,
argue in sabhas,
build schools and fleets,
so that if battle comes later, it will be on our terms, not theirs."
Rajendra frowned at the map.
"And when those seventy years are over?" he asked.
Narasimha's gaze lifted, seeing not just 1900s, but:
steam,
telegraphs,
rifles,
strange future metals and heroes.
"Then," he said quietly, "a new era will stand at the door:
men in costumes calling themselves heroes,
shadows named Hydra and worse,
beings from other worlds.
By then, if I do my work—
Bharat will not be a sleeping land they can ignore.
She will be:
educated,
armed,
alert,
with roots deep enough that even cosmic storms cannot rip her easily."
Far above, the Trimurti and Tridevi watched.
Lakshmi said,
"He could have tried to take all Bharat now, to burn bright and break."
Saraswati added,
"Instead, he chooses:
consolidation,
treaties,
long games.
He thinks in yugas of history, not just years of reign."
Parvati's eyes softened.
"He is still our first child," she murmured. "Not perfect. Not a Manu yet.
But closer now than he has ever been."
On the mortal plane, Narasimha rolled up the map of his realm and placed it beside the treaty.
"War gave us land," he said.
"This pact gives us time.
Land can be lost and regained.
Time, once wasted, never returns.
We will not waste it."
Beyond Kesarinagara's walls:
forges burned in Deccan,
ships took shape in coastal yards,
children recited lessons in Tamil, Telugu, Kannada, Marathi, Odia.
The lion had stopped advancing for now.
But in that pause, his kingdom began to grow in ways no artillery could measure—and no European treaty could truly contain.
✦ End of Chapter 49 – "The Lion, the Map, and the World" ✦