Morning crept slowly into the palace, carrying the scent of wet earth and the soft call of temple bells. The storm had passed, but its echo still lingered—thunder rumbling faintly beyond the horizon like a warning that refused to fade.
Inside the queen's chambers, Vasundhara sat upright in her bed, weak but alert. Her child slept beside her, swaddled in silk, his tiny chest rising and falling peacefully .For the first time in months, she allowed herself a moment of peace—until the door opened.
Dasi entered quietly, bowing low. "My queen… the king calls for you."
Vasundhara's fingers stilled. "Already?"
"He says it is urgent."
The queen exhaled slowly. She knew what this was about. Damini would have wasted no time whispering poison into his ear. Even now, her words were probably spreading like smoke through the court.
"Bring the child," Vasundhara said, gathering her shawl. "He must see him for himself."
The throne room was colder than usual. Golden pillars lined the hall, but the warmth of their glow could not soften the air. At the far end sat King Raghunath, his face unreadable. Beside him stood Lady Damini, her veil drawn low, though the faint curve of a smirk was visible beneath it.
"Your Majesty," Vasundhara said, bowing deeply before stepping forward with her son in her arms.
The king's eyes flickered to the infant. "So this is the boy who has turned the palace upside down."
"His name is Prithvi," she said softly. "The earth beneath the sun."
"Hmm." The king leaned closer, studying the child. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Strange… his skin carries a warmth, as if feverish."
Damini spoke smoothly, her voice dripping with concern."Perhaps it is a sign, my king. You recall the prophecy from the temple priests? That one child born beneath the storm would bring fire upon the land."
The queen stiffened. "You twist holy words to your liking, Damini."
Damini feigned innocence. "I only repeat what was said, my queen. Surely you don't suggest the priests lie?"
The king slammed his hand on the throne armrest. "Enough."
Both women fell silent. He rose, his gaze heavy with thought. "Vasundhara, I will have the royal seer examine the child. If there is any mark—any omen—he will know."
Panic flickered across the queen's face."No!" she said too quickly, then softened her tone. "Forgive me, my lord. The child is but a day old. Let him rest."
The king frowned. "You refuse a simple blessing?"
Vasundhara lowered her head. "I only ask for time."
Raghunath's eyes hardened. "So be it. But I will know the truth soon."
He turned and walked away, his cloak sweeping across the marble floor.Damini followed, her smile faint but victorious.
Later that night, in the quiet of her chambers, Vasundhara sat beside the cradle, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.The candlelight danced across her weary face.Dasi watched from the shadows, clutching her hands together.
"My queen," she whispered. "What will you do?"
Vasundhara's gaze never left her son."I have seen it, Dasi," she said softly. "In my dreams. Flames… and blood. This child will walk a road none can escape."
"Then why hide the mark?" Dasi asked.
"Because I know my husband." Her tone was bitter. "He will see a threat, not destiny. And Damini… she will see an opportunity."
The queen gently brushed a finger across the sleeping infant's neck.The faint sun-mark pulsed once, glowing like dying embers before fading again.
"Perhaps his fate is hidden for now," she whispered. "And perhaps that is mercy."
Outside, a lone crow cawed atop the palace gates.In the distance, temple bells rang for dawn prayers.And in the cradle, the baby stirred—his tiny hand curling, as if grasping at the sunlight that awaited him beyond the storm.