The evening sun dipped below Ahmedabad's minarets, casting Vikram Singh's haveli in a warm amber glow as the noble returned from the city's finest bazaars. His carriage, laden with parcels wrapped in silk and brocade, rolled into the courtyard, drawing the eyes of Jai Vora's team. Jai, nine but carrying the weight of empires, watched from the pavilion, his followers—Amir, Kofi, Ravi, Manoj, Sarita, Maya, Nishil, and the eight rescued children including Mira—gathered around. Dhruv and Sameer, Vikram's stealth guards, stood sentinel, their hawk-like eyes scanning the shadows. The Emperor System, Jai's secret AI-spirit guide, buzzed with amusement: "Vikram's playing Santa, kid? This'll win hearts faster than your smoke arrows."
Vikram dismounted with a flourish, his silk kurta shimmering, and beckoned Jai. "Come, young lord! I've brought treasures for your crew." He opened the parcels, revealing a cascade of gifts: embroidered kurtas for the boys, delicate saris for Maya and Sarita, sturdy tunics for Nishil and the men, and colorful vests for the children. "I chose these from the best shops—Pravin's textiles for the silk, the jewelers' for the threads. This kurta for you, Jai?" He held up a garment of deep indigo, woven with silver stars. "Fits a star like you."
Jai's Charm sparked, his voice light. "Vikram, you spoil us. This is more than we deserve." Vikram laughed, clapping Jai's shoulder. "Deserve? You killed a noble and freed children in one night! This is the least." Maya, holding Mira, fingered a sari's edge, her voice soft. "It's beautiful. Mira's never had something so fine." Mira, wide-eyed, clutched a vest. "It's like a prince's!" The children chattered, their awe palpable—never had they dined in a haveli, let alone received gifts from a lord. Arjun, Rahil, and Sanjay, the 17-year-old boys, exchanged glances, Rahil muttering, "This is real? No tricks?" Sanjay nodded, grinning. "Feels like a dream."
Nishil, his weathered hands tracing a tunic, bowed to Vikram. "You honor us, lord. I've trained killers, not guests." Vikram waved it off. "You're Vora's now, Nishil. Jai's word is my bond." Over a hearty dinner of spiced kofta, biryani, and rose-flavored kulfi, the table buzzed. The children, once shadows in Mala's warren, laughed as they savored the kulfi, Mira asking Maya, "Can we eat like this every day?" Maya, her eyes glistening, squeezed her sister's hand. "Jai's making it so, Mira. He promised."
Amir, his Bladework a quiet strength, raised his cup. "To Jai, who turns enemies into allies." Kofi nodded, his Blacksmithing pride in the team's gear. "And to the kids—free blades now." Vikram, eyes on Jai, chuckled. "You've got a family here, boy. I see it—Nishil's trust, Maya's gratitude. You're building more than a company." Jai's grin was sly. "It's all strategy, Vikram. Loyal hearts make strong empires." The system pinged: "Hearts and gold, kid. Vikram's loyalty's at 60%—he's hooked."
Vikram turned to Dhruv, his voice firm. "Dhruv, you go with Jai. He needs all the help he can get right now." Dhruv bowed, his scar twitching with a smile. "I'd be honored, master. Jai's got a spark—reminds me of you, young and bold." Vikram laughed. "See? Even my shadows like you, Jai." The table erupted in chuckles, the children giggling at the "shadows" comment. Sameer, hawk-eyed, added, "If Dhruv's in, I'm jealous. Don't forget me when you need eyes, Jai." Jai winked. "You're next, Sameer. Vora's big enough for all."
After the meal, as servants cleared plates, the group retired, the children's eyes heavy with the first peaceful sleep in years. Maya tucked Mira in, whispering, "No more darkness, little one." Nishil sat with Arjun, Rahil, and Sanjay, his Teaching a quiet guide. "You'll learn crafts, boys—hammers, not just blades. Jai's word is good." Arjun nodded. "Better than Mala's lies." Rahil added, "Pay for work? Sounds fair." Sanjay, ever quiet, murmured, "I trust the kid. He killed Mala."
The next morning at dawn, the haveli stirred. Jai's team, refreshed, gathered in the courtyard. Vikram presented another cart for the children and gifts, plus two extra horses. "For your journey back," he said. "Safe roads, Jai. I'll watch the court—British, nobles, all of it." Jai clasped his hand. "Your eyes are Vora's now. Thank you, Vikram." The system buzzed: "A noble's backing and a full cart? You're stacking wins, kid."
Two days later, Surat's beachfront welcomed them, the restaurant's aroma mingling with sea salt. Anil and Leela rushed from the stall, eyes wide at the convoy. "Beta!" Leela cried, hugging Jai. Anil, spotting the children and boys, asked, "What's this?" Jai's Charm smooth. "Guards from Vikram Singh—Nishil's their teacher, Maya and the boys are his best. The eight kids are their wards, lent to help with our shops. And this—" He handed Anil a purse heavy with 2,300 coins. "Vikram invested more, but it's a loan. We repay when we can. He's taken a fancy to me, Papa."
Anil's eyes misted, weighing the purse. "A noble's trust? You've done wonders, Jai." Leela, tears brimming, embraced Maya and Mira. "Welcome, children. You're Vora now." The workers cheered, the family's happy moment a spark in the dawn, Vora Trading Company stronger than ever.