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XLVII That Ancient Tyrant
Dernière mise à jour:
2025-04-28 15:09:10
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The Rule XLVIII On The Seashore
The grey fingers of dawn slowly stretched over the vast waters of Tziyonia’s ocean, stirring its restless tides into shimmering ripples of silver and blue. The air was cool and fragrant with the scent of salt, damp wood, and the faint sweetness of wild coastal blossoms that grew along the craggy shores. Mist clung low over the waves, breathing mystery into the morning, while the cries of seagulls swept across the water like wandering spirits.Upon the rocky coasts, life had long awakened.The fishermen, rugged and diligent men, were dragging their heavy nets back to shore, their simple boats creaking under the burden of the night’s catch. For them, this was the hour of labor and gain, to return with fishes fresh and for the morning trade.Among them, a man named Vihan worked silently, hauling a woven net filled with the glinting bodies of fish. His tunic was soaked to the knees, and his hands, calloused from years of toil, gripped the ropes with a sure strength. As he heaved his boat
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-04-28The Rule XLIX One Of Our Own
The soft rustle of the morning breeze outside his chamber only faintly reached Samarth’s ears as he sat by his window, the golden light of dawn spilling into the room. His mind was quiet — yet restless. The kingdom seemed to hum in the background, alive with the pulse of endless duties. But today, something had shifted, and he felt it keenly.The door to his chamber creaked open with the utmost respect, and Veer entered without a sound, his demeanor as poised and stoic as ever. His face was etched with the weight of the message he bore.“Your Majesty,” Veer’s voice was firm, though a note of concern lingered in the way he addressed Samarth. “A message from the coast.”Samarth’s gaze shifted from the horizon to his trusted commander, his brow furrowing slightly. He gestured for Veer to approach, his hand sweeping across the table beside him where a scroll awaited his attention.“What news is this, Veer? Speak freely.”Veer nodded and handed him a small parchment, the seal of Tziyonia
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-04-29The Rule L If Treachery Be Indeed Yours
Night had fallen upon the palace, cloaking its corridors and courtyards in a velvet hush. Yet within the vast kitchen halls, the glow of oil lamps and the steady crackle of the hearth kept the shadows at bay.The scent of roasted lamb and sweetened rice lingered in the smoky air, curling around the bustling maidens as they labored late into the evening.Amara stood near the long marble counter, polishing a silver platter until it gleamed. Beside her, Gulab carefully arranged pomegranates and figs in bowls carved of gold, her fingers swift and sure despite the drowsy hour.Aashvi knelt by the hearth, coaxing the last embers to life with a small iron poker, while Ragini passed by carrying a tray laden with freshly baked bread.The murmurs began softly, blending with the clinking of dishes and the occasional creak of the heavy wooden doors.“Have you heard?” Gulab whispered, casting a furtive glance toward the doorway leading to the royal dining chambers. “They found him... washed ashore
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-04-29The Rule LI “Cross My Heart!”
The morning unfolded like a golden tapestry across the palace, weaving light through the carved pillars and airy corridors. The soft strains of a flute somewhere in the distance mingled with the crisp rustling of the palace gardens awakening to the sun.Through one of the long marbled hallways, the sound of laughter suddenly echoed — clear, bright, and full of life.Inayat, her white dupatta fluttering behind her like a standard of peace, chased after a giggling Aabroo, a glass of milk poised precariously in her hand. Their anklets chimed a merry tune, little silver bells announcing their passage through the sleeping stones.“Aabroo!” Inayat called, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. “Cease your rebellion, child, and take this strength into your bones!”Aabroo only laughed harder, ducking beneath a hanging tapestry and peering back mischievously.“Nay, Lady Inayat!” she cried, her braid whipping through the air as she fled. “It is foul! I want none of it!”The chase led them
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-04-29The Rule LII “You Cannot Keep Me Away Forever.”
The narrow streets of the marketplace bustled with life, a churning sea of colors, scents, and sounds. Vendors called out in lusty voices, children darted between stalls, and the scent of roasted spices mingled with the sharpness of oiled steel. Beneath the late morning sun, two cloaked figures moved unnoticed — hidden behind dark scarves that masked their faces, blending seamlessly into the throng.Inayat lifted the corner of her veil slightly to examine a line of delicate pottery laid out before a shopkeeper’s stall. Her slender fingers trailed over a painted bowl as Samarth remained at her side, ever watchful, a shadow that moved only for her. His cloak draped his tall frame with effortless majesty, though he wore anonymity like a second skin.Amused by her keen interest, he spoke, his voice low enough that only she could hear, “Lately, it seems Aabroo finds more delight in you than anywhere else.”At his words, Inayat turned her face toward him, and though the scarf hid her lips
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-04-30The Rule LIII Look For A Queen
The terrace stretched wide above the courtyard, its carved stone railings warm under the touch of the late sun.Below, the courtyard bathed in soft gold; a tender scene unfolded — Inayat sat cross-legged upon the grass, her white robe pooling around her, a harp cradled in her lap. Beside her, Aabroo leaned in eagerly, small fingers fumbling across the strings as Inayat corrected her with patience and laughter.The music rose in broken, sweet notes, catching the breeze and carrying upwards.Samarth sat among his lords and officials, but his gaze wandered too often. His hands were resting on the armrest like the king he was, his figure cast in gold and shadow, unmoving save for his eyes — always drawn toward Inayat.None among his council dared follow the king’s gaze.None but Lord William.The elder noble leaned lightly on the rail as he stood near it, his voice casual as he said, “The courtyard wears a fairer sight today, sire.”Samarth’s brow lifted, but he said nothing.William smil
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-04-30The Rule LIV The Art Of Torment
Samarth’s return from the inspection had been awaited, but no one waited more eagerly than the monarch himself — for the face that resided in his thoughts more vividly than any report, any city, or any fortress he had passed through. Inayat. Her name was a flame upon the parchment of his heart.The journey back to the palace was long, yet Samarth rode with the urgency of a man whose soul was being pulled by a tether invisible to all but him. Dust rose behind his steed as the city gates opened wide, horns heralded his return, and citizens bowed low to their sovereign. Yet, his eyes searched not for applause, but for a shadow in the upper balconies, a glimpse of a familiar silhouette.Once within the palace, he did not tarry. His boots echoed down the marble halls as he went straight to his chamber to cleanse himself. Robes of dark silk, belted with gold, were placed upon him by his attendants. His hair was tied back in a loose clasp, the seal of his reign engraved upon the ring that a
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-04-30The Rule LV Do Not Walk Away
The scent of saffron and roasted cumin filled the royal dining hall, mingling with the rich aroma of freshly baked bread and slow-cooked meats. Torches lined the marble walls, casting golden flickers upon polished silverware and porcelain dishes. Aabroo sat to the right of the king, her small hands clumsily peeling a pomegranate, utterly lost in her own world, humming a tune under her breath with no care for the muted tension surrounding her.Samarth sat at the head of the long table, dressed in a regal robe of deep cream embroidered with threads of muted gold. He held his goblet without tasting it, his thoughts clearly elsewhere, his gaze often wandering to the empty seat reserved to his left.Once again, Inayat had refused his invitation.He had sent a word — softly worded and spoken with an earnestness that few had heard in the king’s voice. But the response was the same as the previous night: She will not be joining, my Lord. She is resting.No excuse. No explanation. Just dista
Dernière mise à jour : 2025-04-30
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The Rule LXXXII Simple Joy
The sunlight was mellow that morning, filtered through carved jharokhas and falling in soft golden squares upon the polished marble floor. The chamber designated for the king's fitting had been transformed into a vibrant workspace. Bolts of fabric in every hue imaginable lay neatly folded on low teakwood tables, while ornate designs of embroidery were pinned across scrolls of parchment hanging against the walls. The scent of freshly brewed spiced tea lingered in the air.Samarth stood tall at the center, stripped down to a fine muslin undershirt and loose cotton trousers, the chill of the cold season barely bothering him. Around him were his closest men — Raj, the General Commander, tall and ever sharp-eyed; Veer, the tactician with a penchant for jokes; and three council ministers who had stood beside him in countless matters: Vaibhav, Amar, and Kshitij.A lean, graceful man in his late forties circled the king with a measuring tape. The master of textiles and tailoring, a famed Vast
The Rule LXXXI Teasings And Gentleness
The moon spilled its silver warmth over the palace gardens, painting the world in gentle light and shadows. The fragrance of night-blooming jasmine floated up from below, and the quiet rustle of the breeze through the silk curtains gave the air a kind of hush, like the night itself was listening. Inayat stepped into Samarth’s private chamber, her anklets chiming softly beneath the folds of her pale blue skirt. The room was bathed in warm amber light from the brass lanterns hung above. A scroll lay half-unrolled on the polished wooden table, abandoned. Samarth stood near the window, his dark silhouette drawn against the moon.She paused a moment, smiling quietly to herself before calling gently, "You look like you’re about to leap out of that window."Samarth turned, and the usual weight in his eyes lifted just a little. "If I did, would you come catch me?""No," she replied at once, walking toward him, "but I’d probably climb down and pull you back by the ear."He chuckled, stepping
The Rule LXXX Wedding Preparations
The afternoon sun filtered through the carved jharokhas, casting a delicate mosaic of gold and shadow upon the marble floor of the palace’s bridal chamber. The scent of rosewater lingered in the air, mingling with the subtle sweetness of sandalwood oil and fresh jasmine garlands that had been strung up along the lattice windows.Inside the room, laughter rang like bells.Inayat sat cross-legged on a thick silken rug, her maroon skirt pooling around her like a blooming flower. Her dupatta, sheer and embroidered with silver vines, was pinned loosely atop her head, the ends cascading over her shoulder. Around her sat her trusted women — Ridhima and Leela, their eyes sparkling with mischief — while across from her, a group of skilled women from the royal atelier prepared lengths of exquisite fabric on low tables.Swatches of fabric spilled in gentle waves: ivory muslin embroidered with gold threads, pale blush silks with silver zari, delicate organzas dyed in hues of rose, almond, and cha
The Rule LXXIX Quiet Prayer And Unborn Dreams
The golden light of early dusk filtered through the carved jharokhas, scattering intricate patterns across the marble floor. Inayat reclined gracefully against the cushioned settee, her silken robe shimmering with subtle embroidery, hair loosely braided and threaded with pearls. Aabroo sat beside her, her hand loosely folded into hers, and on the rug before them, Leela and Ridhima lounged like blooming lilies, laughter bubbling softly between them.The sound of anklets jingled as Leela stirred the contents of a small brass bowl beside her — an ointment she was making, grinding crushed herbs with steady fingers stained green. Ridhima, meanwhile, was braiding a thin garland of jasmine, the scent lifting like incense in the air.“You’re going to be Queen,” Ridhima said suddenly, teasing spark in her eye. “Just like that. One night and the heavens have shifted.”Leela chuckled. “What enchantment did you use, my lady? A glance? A touch? Or simply your silence? He was smitten like a deer ca
The Rule LXXVIII They Are Coming
The dawn had barely broken when the news surged like a flood through the stone corridors of the palace — William, the traitor, had tried to flee. Captured by Raj and his guards in the wilderness of Dharval Grove, a dense, thorn-laced forest on the outer rim of the kingdom, he was dragged back, battered and bound. The scent of dew still clung to his tattered robes when they flung him into the dungeon’s cold belly, the air thick with iron and old blood.Word was sent to the King. And Samarth came.Still blindfolded, still wrapped in plain robes that smelled of clove, neem, and crushed tulsi—herbal balm for his recovering body—he entered the dark chamber, his cane clicking softly against the stone floor. A strange hush fell over the dungeon, as though the very shadows paused to listen.William, bound in iron shackles that hung from the ceiling, his feet only barely brushing the ground, lifted his swollen face and smirked. A dry, mocking laugh escaped his cracked lips. "Ah, look who comes
The Rule LXXVII “I Ache To See You.”
The night wrapped the palace in a silken hush, the stars strewn like scattered blessings over a sky deep and solemn. The marble halls, once echoing with commands and tension, were now lulled into a tranquil silence. A single chamber breathed a quiet warmth, where the light of an oil lamp flickered like the heart of the night itself — tender, unwavering, sacred.Inayat sat beside him, her presence a balm. The air was gently steeped in the aroma of cumin, fennel, ginger, and bay leaves — the healing broth she had prepared, simple and nurturing, steeped in ancient wisdom and prayers whispered into steam.Samarth, the king who had returned from the edge of death, sat reclined against the carved headboard. The blindfold still covered his eyes, the cloth freshly wound each morning. His skin, though kissed by the warmth of healing oils, still bore the exhaustion of wounds unspoken. Yet tonight, there was a softness in his posture, a rare quiet to his powerful presence.Inayat brought the woo
The Rule LXXVI “The King Has Found His Queen.”
The air was thick with dampness and the scent of rusted iron. Shadows clung to the cold stone walls like secrets too ancient to speak of. Far below the castle, where no light dared linger, the torches barely held their flame, flickering uncertainly as if even fire hesitated to breathe in such a place.Footsteps echoed.Measured. Heavy. Approaching.The guards at the dungeon’s threshold stiffened, their spines taut with unease. They exchanged glances — quiet, anxious whispers brushing between them like wind through dry grass. “Someone comes,’ one murmured, voice trembling, eyes wide.Then silence fell. The sort of silence that presses against the ribs and holds the lungs captive.And from the darkness, emerged two figures — Samarth and Raj.The guards paled.Samarth walked with purpose, his presence commanding, undiminished. The flickering flames revealed the glow in his hair, a cut along his cheek — but his eyes, oh his eyes, shone with the fury of a storm barely withheld. And beside
The Rule LXXV A King Does As He Pleases
The flickering lamps cast golden halos across the room, their soft light dancing over the king’s worn but healing form. Pillows had been propped behind his back, silks drawn close over his frame, and a bowl of warm broth — more water than taste — rested beside him, lifted in turns to his lips by his own hand.The scent of clove, cinnamon bark, and tulsi still clung to his linen shirt, where hours ago, Aabroo had nestled in silent prayers. Now, she sat by his side, her posture relaxed yet deeply attentive. Her delicate voice, threaded with warmth and a sister's fondness, filled the room.“You would not believe what chaos stirred when the ministers heard you had stirred from the dark,” she said, her hands folded atop the coverlet. “Raj shouted at the top of his voice like a lion, declaring it was your strength that defeated death itself. And Veer — he vowed to set fire to the entire Everian border if it meant your safety.”Samarth listened, silent but smiling. Each story she shared came
The Rule LXXIV Trembling When The Lion Has Awakened
The air in the palace was no longer heavy.Whispers of his awakening rippled through marble corridors like sacred hymns carried by the breeze. A hush of disbelief lingered in the corners, but joy had begun its return. Light flooded chambers that had, for days, sunk in gloom. In every street, among every mouth that moved, a single name throbbed like a pulse: Samarth.In the royal chamber, the king sat upright, propped by cushions embroidered in gold, eyes still partially bandaged, the cloth stained faintly with the green of crushed neem and turmeric — an ancient concoction brewed with sandalwood and healing camphor to soothe his sight.Gathered before him were three men — Raj, stalwart and loyal; Veer, the commander whose gaze missed nothing; and the High Priest, clad in robes that whispered of wisdom.But Aabroo? Aabroo was silent. Kneeling by her brother's side, her arms wrapped delicately around his waist, her face buried in the folds of his loose linen shirt, she breathed him in. H
