Chapter 3: Schemes and Vows

My sister spent ten years securing her position in the Singh dynasty's harem. When she became Maharani Meera, she immediately summoned me back to Lucknow.

She sent for me with new silks and boxes of sweets—motichoor laddoos, kaju katli, things she knew I loved as a child. The first time I saw her again, I almost didn't recognise her behind the heavy gold and the stern guards at her door.

At that time, I had just come of age.

My hands trembled as I performed the first aarti in her new palace, the scent of marigold and camphor filling my lungs. I wondered if I still belonged in this world.

She exhausted all her efforts, making countless pleas to Raghav Singh, to secure for me the position of concubine to Prince Parth, Arjun Singh.

The palace was abuzz with whispers, some jealous, some relieved. My sister’s face was drawn and pale, her eyes rimmed with sleeplessness.

Arjun Singh was an unloved prince, sent to his estate in Pune as soon as he came of age. To be his concubine might mean a lifetime of uneventful safety.

"Ananya, at this point, all I ask is for your safety."

Her words were a plea, a benediction, and a curse all at once.

My sister forced a smile at me.

She tried to tuck a stray curl behind my ear, but her hand shook so much she dropped the pin. I bent to pick it up, both of us pretending not to notice.

I stared at her, dazed. She looked as if she had aged more than ten years. At her temples, strands of white hair had appeared. No amount of kajal could conceal the exhaustion in her eyes.

A deep, aching pain filled my heart.

The lines on her face, the dullness of her once-sparkling eyes—these were the true price of survival. I fought the urge to throw my arms around her and cry like I was a child again.

I remembered how, not long before, a shrill-voiced attendant had come to summon her to serve Raghav Singh that night.

"Maharani Meera, please prepare yourself."

As soon as he finished speaking, my sister's body began to tremble uncontrollably.

She clenched her hands so tightly that her rings bit into her skin, leaving red marks. I wanted to reach for her but couldn’t.

I thought again of the day our country was destroyed, of the blood seeping from her body as she shielded me.

The images came unbidden, blurring with the sound of the new king’s laughter echoing through the palace.

Looking at her, I felt a deep sense of guilt and remorse.

Didi, the peaceful life you fought so hard to win for me was never what I wanted.

From the moment I set foot in Lucknow, only one thought remained in my heart:

I want to seize power and overturn the Singh dynasty.

My hands curled into fists in my lap, nails digging crescents into my palms. No amount of silk or gold could smother the fire inside me.