Early Morning.
Capital: Vala.
Royal Palace.
The capital was slowly coming to life, and the Royal Palace was no different.
It had been only a few days since the firstborn son of Raja Indra Deva Varma had taken his first breaths, and the city was still caught in the festive mood surrounding the birth.
And there was much to come in the following months, from the infant Rajkumar's ear-piercing ceremony to his naming ceremony.
Simply put, Vala had plenty to look forward to.
But beneath the celebrations, other things were taking shape as well.
Courtesan houses and various hideouts had begun to see an increase in activity, as people across the city sought to take advantage of the opportunities created by the birth of a royal heir. Rumours travelled, plans were made, and those with an interest in the future of the kingdom began quietly considering what the prince's birth might mean for them.
For the Royal Palace, however, matters were considerably less pleasant.
Yes, an heir to the throne had been born.
But Mahadevi Savithri, daughter of the Maharaja of the Ranga, had died in childbirth.
Her death had cast a shadow over the palace, and beneath its otherwise orderly surface was a quiet uproar over what the future now held for the kingdom.
MC POV
I have been awake since before the sun came up.
And... THIS IS SO GODDAMN BORING!
I screamed internally, trapped in my own little world of problems.
Well, you can't really blame me.
Until recently, I had been a big shot in my country.
Now I had been reduced to this pathetic, constantly poo-ridden mess.
And it was humiliating to no end.
I wake up, they feed me, and then they put me back to sleep. Bathing and having my clothes changed are also part of the routine.
Again, humiliating, considering I'm twenty-three. Almost twenty-four, goddammit.
But the worst part was nursing.
Hell, I would rather go back to my teenage years and suffer through all of that again than have to drink from the breasts of some woman I don't even know.
Yet the moment feeding started, this pathetic body of mine simply lost control.
Actually, this body doesn't listen to me in the slightest.
Haaa...
I sighed, though even that came out as some strange baby noise.
Then I heard voices and footsteps approaching.
I would have turned around to look, but... well, I don't think I need to mention it again.
I AM A LITERAL BABY!
"Rajkumar. It is morning and time for your feeding."
I heard a woman's voice.
From their appearance and the way they conducted themselves, I assumed they were dasis. Why? Simple. I still couldn't understand a word they were saying.
All I had to rely on were visual cues and whatever memories I possessed.
As I thought about this, I was picked up again.
"It is so strange. When I heard we would be assigned to care for the Rajkumar, I did not expect it to be this easy."
They're talking again.
God, what wouldn't I give to understand what they're saying.
The women continued talking while I simply stared at whatever happened to be in front of me, limited by whichever direction my head had been placed and how far my eyes could move.
"I mean, he doesn't cry or throw tantrums... It's like caring for an old person."
One of them said something else while gently swinging me up and down, making exaggerated faces that were clearly meant to get a laugh out of me.
"He doesn't even laugh or smile either."
The woman made a somewhat sad face.
Damn it.
Now I feel bad!
I immediately started flailing my arms and legs, trying my best to imitate whatever I thought a happy baby would do.
That seemed to work.
At least, the women started smiling again.
This continued for a while, until the older of the two women took me and began feeding me.
Right on cue.
I thought to myself as this body of mine latched onto her like a parasite.
Well... until this humiliation is over—
I might as well go over everything I remember and know so far.
So, let's sta—
I stopped.
Wait.
Why the hell am I talking like some kind of character about to give his introduction in a story?
Ahh, fuck it.
Well, my confusion aside, let's start with my name.
Raj Sharma.
Or, well... it was.
Oh, yeah. I should probably mention that I've accepted the reincarnation hypothesis by now.
Now, back to the matter at hand.
I was born in 21XX and died in 21XX, just days before my twenty-fourth birthday.
I lost my mother when I was around eight, though I hardly remember anything about her. Not her face, not her voice, not even much about what she was like.
My father...
Well, we had an estranged relationship.
He was never around for anything. He was more like a machine that gave me whatever I asked for.
I asked for control over the family's assets and connections.
He said yes.
I said I wanted to join the armed forces.
He said yes.
I failed.
I went on to become an important bureaucrat, working within the government while also maintaining the family influence over the state apparatus itself.
And still nothing.
During his final years, before he died in an ambush attack in the special-status state of Pastustan, I proposed my plan to drag our country into the war.
I was still naive back then. It was only later that I realised how much more difficult it would be than I had initially thought.
But I digress.
What did my father say when I told him?
He asked me some questions.
I answered them.
Then he simply said, "Okay."
So I hope you understand when I say he was a machine.
Well, putting that aside, I did have friends.
A whole bunch of them, actually. Men and women.
Most of them eventually ended up marrying one another, which created an entirely different set of problems, considering I was more like the chaperone—or perhaps the parent—of the group.
So, yeah.
There was that.
But in the end, even that was gone.
As for dating...
I'm happy to say there was nothing.
Well, that's probably supposed to be a sad thing, but after everything I've come to understand about myself, I don't really mind that part.
Hookups were all I had.
And, unfortunately, I'm kind of okay with that.
And now on to this life.
I can tell this much: I am rather important here.
I have caretakers around me twenty-four hours a day, along with people in uniform who are armed.
Not to mention the man I think is my father and several others who visit me from time to time. They all give off this weird sense of high status.
Like royalty or something.
Then, moving on to the place itself...
How do I put this?
IT'S SO GODDAMN COOL!
From the little I can see, it seems Indian. Northern, though not eastern. Maybe central or western India, judging by the use of stone, the decorations and the architecture.
Apart from that, the white marble-looking stuff reminds me of Rome or Greece.
So my best comparison to my old world would probably be northwestern India, somewhere around western Sindh or Gandhara.
Like the period after Alexander's time in those regions.
Apart from that, there is only one other thing I can go on.
The language.
To me, it sounds like Sanskrit.
I say sounds because I don't know Sanskrit well enough to make a definite judgement. I know quite a few languages, both native and foreign, but these old ancient languages were more of a hobby for me.
So Sanskrit is my best guess for now.
----
But all that aside... what am I going to do?
That thought had been sitting at the back of my mind ever since I first realised—and eventually accepted—that this really was reincarnation.
As I thought about it, my current humiliation—which, I had to admit, was necessary—finally came to an end.
Feeding was over.
I was laid back down on the bed. And with that came the dread.
I had developed a particular fear of being put to sleep, is it because of having experienced death once or is it because I feal anxious as being unable to do anything, especially while sleeping.
I don't know.
With that I immediately started flailing around, doing my best impression of a crying baby, almost on impulse I might add.
"He's moving around a lot now," the younger woman said.
"Well, whenever we put him to sleep, he does this," the older woman replied, folding her arms.
"Why don't we take him for a walk?"
"The weather is rather chilly outside, so I don't think we should. Just let the Rajkumar tire himself o—"
The older woman suddenly stopped and the air in the room became somewhat stiff.
I tried to figure out why and managed to turn my head slightly.
That was when I saw a woman.
She was someone who visited me more often than anyone else.
I didn't think she was my mother. She showed no signs of having recently given birth, and I had never seen her being treated like a mother by the people around me.
Perhaps she was a relative.
Maybe my father's sister or another close family member.
Whatever the case, everyone around her treated her with the same quiet respect I had seen them show my supposed father.
As I was trying to figure all this out, the woman approached and took me into her arms.
She gently rocked me while walking around the room.
I might not know who she was, but one thing was for sure.
She was beautiful to look at.
Her skin was a light brown, and from the few times she had held my hands or gently squeezed my cheeks and limbs, I could tell it was soft.
Her hair was long enough to fall past her waist.
Her facial features were an interesting mix of round and sharp at the same time, with her nose being the sharpest feature I had noticed.
She also appeared to have a fit build. Not particularly thin, nor heavy. Just... well proportioned, at least from what I could tell.
Though her belly was a little fat compared to what one would think of looking at her for the first time.
She always wore a saree, and judging by its material, embroidery and overall quality, it would probably have cost several lakhs in my old world.
And that wasn't even counting the gold and other jewellery she wore.
Yeah.
Whoever this woman is, she is definitely not ordinary.
As those thoughts circled through my mind for what felt like the millionth time, another familiar feeling returned.
Except...
It wasn't familiar at all.
It was something I had never really experienced in my previous life.
Comfort.
Being held by her felt... comfortable.
I didn't know why.
I didn't even know what this feeling actually was.
But if I had to put a name to it, then perhaps this was what having a parent...
A mother... was supposed to feel like.
As those thoughts continued, I didn't even realise that my eyes had already grown heavy.
Before long, I was dozing off in her arms.
-------------------
Third Person POV
"Devi Bhadra, you put the Rajkumar to sleep so easily. We do our best, and it still takes us far longer than it does you," the younger dasi said.
"Well, I did make his mother a promise," Devi Bhadra replied calmly as she lowered the baby into a wooden cradle.
As she tried to pull her hand away, however, the child suddenly latched onto one of her fingers, gripping it tightly.
Devi Bhadra looked down at him.
"It seems I will have to spend more time here," she murmured.
Then she slightly turned to a Dasi that had come with her and spoke.
"Lata, inform His Majesty that I will not be attending today's session."
Lata hesitated.
"But isn't today the day you were supposed to be made Mahadevi? Is it really wise to be away from His Majesty at a time like this?"
"Lata."
Devi's voice remained calm.
"Don't make me repeat myself."
Lata hesitated once more before bowing her head.
"Yes, Devi Bhadra as you wish"
She turned and left.
The two other dasis followed her, leaving the inner chamber and taking their positions outside the inner doors, between them and the outer chamber.
Soon, Devi was alone with the child.
The room became quiet.
Only the gentle rustling of the wind from outside and the soft breathing of the sleeping infant could be heard.
Devi looked down at him for a long moment, her finger still held tightly in his tiny hand.