The palace of Vyangadesh was unusually still that night.Even the torches along the marble pillars burned low, their flames trembling as if afraid to disturb the silence.Outside, storm clouds gathered above the golden domes, and thunder rolled across the sky like a warning from the gods.
Inside the inner chamber, Queen Vasundhara lay on her silken bed, breathing heavily.Sweat rolled down her temple, her black hair sticking to her pale face.Each breath felt like a knife pressing against her ribs, yet her eyes remained sharp, unyielding.She was no fragile woman of court—she had once ridden beside the king in battle, a swordswoman who could cleave through armor.But tonight, she fought a different kind of war.
At her side knelt Dasi, the queen's most trusted servant.A woman of quiet grace and loyalty, her name meant "the one who serves", though her devotion went far beyond duty.She wiped the queen's brow with trembling hands and whispered, "My queen, it will be over soon. You are strong. Hold on a little longer."
Vasundhara managed a weak smile. "I must be strong… for him."
Dasi froze for a moment. "You're certain… it is a boy?"
"I can feel it," the queen whispered, pressing a hand to her swollen belly. "A warmth inside me… like sunlight. Perhaps it's only a mother's hope, but I feel him—burning bright, even before his first breath."
Lightning flashed through the chamber window, and for a heartbeat, the world outside turned white.Thunder followed, shaking the walls.
Moments later, the baby's cry split the air.A cry strong and clear, unlike any Dasi had ever heard.The queen wept softly, reaching out as Dasi placed the newborn in her arms.
"He's perfect," Vasundhara murmured, her tired eyes full of warmth.But as she looked closer, her expression changed.There, faintly glowing at the base of the baby's neck, was a mark—shaped like a small sun, with tiny rays stretching outward.
Dasi gasped. "My queen… what is that?"
Vasundhara's eyes widened. "The mark of the Sun…" she whispered. "But why him? What does it mean?"
Neither woman knew.Old legends spoke of the Children of the Sun, born once in an age—blessed or cursed, no one could say.But to speak of such a mark before the king… could be dangerous.
Vasundhara tightened her hold on the baby. "No one must know, Dasi. Not yet. Not even the king."
Dasi nodded quickly. "As you command. I swear it on my life."
The queen smiled faintly. "Then may fate protect him, whatever this mark means. Perhaps… his path is written in fire."
Before either could say more, the heavy doors creaked open.Two guards entered, their faces grim. Behind them stood King Raghunath, tall and broad, his armor glinting faintly in torchlight.His sharp eyes scanned the room—not with love, but suspicion.
"Is it done?" His voice was cold.
"Yes, my lord," Vasundhara said softly, cradling the baby close. "A healthy child."
"A son?" the king asked.
She nodded.
For a fleeting moment, his eyes softened—but then he frowned.Behind him, Lady Damini, his second wife, appeared in the doorway, her face hidden beneath a silk veil.Her eyes gleamed faintly in the torchlight, like a serpent's.
"So," she said sweetly, "the queen has given birth at last. May the gods bless this child... though one wonders whose blessing he truly carries."
Vasundhara's expression darkened, but she said nothing.The king's face twitched at Damini's words.Her poison was subtle—like a drop of ink spreading in clear water.
"Rest well, my queen," the king said finally. "We'll speak at dawn."
When they left, the queen's breath grew unsteady.She looked toward Dasi, fear flickering in her eyes.
"He's already doubting," she whispered. "Damini… she's planting her seeds again."
Dasi bowed her head. "Then we must be careful, my queen."
Vasundhara gazed down at her newborn son.The faint golden mark on his neck shimmered once, then vanished beneath his skin.As if even the sun itself chose to hide.
"Perhaps," she whispered, "fate hid you for a reason."
Outside, the storm broke in full force.Rain lashed against the palace, lightning splitting the sky, thunder echoing like drums of war.And beneath that sound, a newborn prince—unknown to the world—took his first breath under a sky of roaring fire.