Chapter 1: The Fall of Kaveripur

I am a princess of a fallen nation. My country was destroyed when I was six years old—all because of my mother. Even now, the echo of war drums and my mother’s perfume haunt my dreams.

As I sit by the open jharokha in the twilight, the memory of that day floods back, heavier than the humid monsoon air. The scent of wet earth and burning agarbatti mingles with the ache in my heart—a longing for all that was lost, for what was taken by my own blood.

My mother, renowned for her breathtaking beauty, was sent as a bride from the Northern Kingdom. With skin as fair as milk and features as delicate as a lotus petal, her beauty was unmatched.

In the palace, her presence glowed like a diya in the palace, drawing every eye. Even the old ayahs would whisper, "Apsara lagti hain, your mother. No one has such beauty." The palace maids tried to imitate her style—her way of arranging her pallu just so, her graceful gait. But none could match her.

Within a few years, my father—once a wise and capable Maharaja—became so infatuated with her that he neglected all affairs of state.

Gone were the days when he would rise with the Brahma muhurta, holding court with his ministers over chai and poha. Now he spent hours gazing at her, forgetting meetings, leaving the court pundits and generals waiting in the durbar hall.

The Northern Kingdom seized the opportunity to invade. My mother stole all of Kaveripur’s defense plans and handed them over to the north.

Not even the loyal old Senapati suspected her—after all, who would mistrust the Maharani? But a single night changed everything. The defense plans, once locked in a sandalwood box, vanished. My mother’s faint, jasmine perfume lingered in the empty study.

The generals of Kaveripur barely had time to react before the northern armies swept through, unstoppable as a monsoon flood.

Drums thundered, conch shells sounded, and within a day, our beautiful city was covered with smoke and cries. The walls that had protected generations fell, just like that.