Semua Bab The Rule: Bab 31 - Bab 40

“Jewelry?” she whispered beneath her breath, her voice barely brushing the air like the rustle of silk. A flicker of uncertainty stirred in her chest. Why would he ask for such a thing?Her eyes lifted slowly to his face, tracing the regal lines of his profile turned slightly away. The sunlight gilded the edge of his cheekbone, the curve of his jaw, the dusky bronze of his skin. For a heartbeat, she wondered if she had misunderstood him—if her ears had tricked her, or perhaps her heart had hoped otherwise.“Jewelry?” she asked again, this time a murmur laced with hesitance, confusion dancing in her eyes, though anticipation was an unspoken shadow behind it.He turned just enough to glance at her over his shoulder—bare and gleaming faintly beneath the warm light. The gaze he cast was languid yet commanding, the kind of look only a man born to rule could offer.“Yes,” he said, the word crisp and quiet, weighted with unchallengeable authority. “Now be quick.”She chewed the inside of her

After the prophet departed, a storm of whispers surged through the palace halls. The words of the Lord had been spoken—and when the Lord speaks, nothing may unmake it. No threat, no offering, no plea can bend what has proceeded from His mouth. The people trembled, wondering what fate would now befall the kingdom. But the king, Samarth—he did not tremble. He, who had once bowed his head in the temple with a heart full of reverence, now bristled with fury. Rather than fall upon his face in repentance, he rose in wrath. And before the silence of the court could give way to mourning, he broke it with thunder. “Take the prophet out,” he barked to his guards, his voice echoing with indignation. “Throw him beyond these walls. Let him speak his riddles to the winds.” The guards hesitated, but fear of the king outweighed reverence for the prophet. Nathan was led out, not with violence, but with dishonor. It was worse than disobedience. It was defiance. And those who stood within earshot

The sun had long slipped behind the sands when the royal chariot came to a halt at Raj’s place. Lanterns hung like fallen stars, suspended from high canopies, bathing the great courtyard in a soft amber glow. Strings of jasmine and marigold garlands framed every arch, while golden bells chimed gently in the wind—welcoming the night and its honoured guests.A carpet of crimson unfurled before Samarth and Inayat as they descended the chariot. Inayat, clad in white and gold, walked with the poise of a queen carved from moonlight. Her skirt swept the floor like a whispered hymn, the golden borders catching the flames of nearby torches and shimmering with every step. Her blouse clung to her, and the heavy-bordered dupatta draped across her chest moved like silk upon still water. Samarth walked beside her in royal ease, his gaze resting upon her like worship. The hall grew quieter at their approach, and for a fleeting second, time forgot to breathe.Whispers stirred—soft, stunned, revere

The hour was quiet, lingering between the warmth of the afternoon and the hush of dusk, when an attendant stepped lightly into Inayat's chamber. She bowed with practiced grace and delivered the message with calm reverence, “My lady, His Majesty the King requests your presence in the dining hall tonight.”Inayat, seated near the latticed window, looked up from the scriptures she had been reading. Her fingers gently closed the pages of the holy book, a flicker of surprise lighting her features. Samarth rarely asked to dine with her. It was not expected—she was still but a slave in the eyes of the court, though her bond with him was known by whispers.Yet, without letting surprise linger on her face, she nodded gracefully. “You may go,” she said softly. The attendant bowed once more and withdrew, her bare feet whispering against the marble.Inayat turned her eyes to the delicate stack of books before her, softly bound and worn from use. She touched the spine of one with affection before

The marketplace of Tziyonia shimmered with a thousand golden glimmers as lanterns swayed above, casting warm pools of light on sandstone paths. Faint music lingered in the air, a distant melody. Vendors called out in melodic chants, selling figs dipped in honey, clay pots painted in cobalt swirls, and vibrant silks. Smoke rose in tendrils from open-air stalls where meats sizzled and spices filled the air with an intoxicating perfume.Samarth and Inayat emerged from the jewel seller’s shop, her fingers still brushing the pendant resting over her heart. It was carved from the finest Alexandrite, a stone that shifted its hues under different lights—green by day, red by night. Just like the quiet war within her. Samarth had paid the jeweler in gold coins, heavy and old, etched with his crest.Inayat mounted Cyclone, the white stallion, but her gaze lingered on Samarth as he secured his own steed. Thoughts churned within her. The change in him, his softened gaze, the way his words folded