Chapter 2: Meera’s Ultimatum

I returned to the royal study and ordered that no one be allowed to see me. At this moment, my face was dark with worry. Removing the Maharani was something I had long planned, and the next step was to seize the Singh family’s property. Those stubborn old ministers were always praising the Singh family army and General Singh in my presence. Since ancient times, great merit has always been a threat to the ruler. I had long been displeased with the Singh family. But this matter was only in my mind; I hadn’t told anyone yet. How could those comment pop-ups know in advance?

The study was heavy with the scent of old paper, burning agarbatti, and the faint mustiness of monsoon rains from the open jharokha. I paced, sandals scuffing against the cool, patterned stone. My chest felt tight. Was someone in the palace playing games, or had some baba from Banaras cast an evil eye? My mind raced. The pop-ups even said the child in my beloved consort’s belly wasn’t mine! What rubbish. Only a fool would believe it. As if Meera could have looked at another man. Still, I couldn’t shake off the uneasiness, as if the shadows themselves had begun to whisper. Could the Maharani have plotted this with some black magic, a tantrik spell?

Just as I was hesitating, the comment pop-ups appeared again.

[Strange, according to the story, the clueless Raja was definitely going to remove the Maharani today. Did he suddenly get smarter and realise the Maharani is a good person who shouldn’t be harmed?]

[Given Meera’s temperament, I bet she’ll come create a scene in the royal study soon.]

My eyes narrowed, and I turned quickly, nearly toppling a stack of scrolls. Before I could summon a guard, the heavy teak door banged open. A flash of pink saree swept in, her glass bangles jangling with every furious step. Meera’s kohl-lined eyes flashed fire as she jabbed her finger at the chief attendant, Mohanlal, standing meekly in a corner. “Aap hi toh kehte the, I can come whenever I want. Ab aap hi batao, Mohanlal ka kya karoon?”

I looked at Mohanlal and frowned. Mohanlal pouted and said, “Forgive me, Your Majesty, this old servant really couldn’t stop the noble consort.”

“Arrey, His Majesty said I can see him whenever I want, and you old man dare to block me?”

For a moment, I remembered—yes, I had given her permission in the past, her stubbornness reminding me of the first time I saw her at the Yamuna ghats. The tension in my shoulders eased just a bit. Sensing the change, Meera instantly shifted, collapsing dramatically onto my lap as if the world’s burdens had forced her down. She wound her arms around my neck. Her perfume, a mixture of mogra and jasmine, teased my senses. For a heartbeat, I forgot everything, lost in her softness.

But the comment pop-up suddenly appeared again—

[There is a blade above the word ‘desire.’ This Raja is doomed to fall at the hands of women.]

[I thought he had changed, but serves him right. No wonder he ends up losing both his kingdom and his beauties. The male lead who focuses on his duty is still better.]

The words stung sharper than a mother’s slap. I stiffened, my jaw clenching. On impulse, I pushed Meera away. She slipped off my lap, landing with an unceremonious thud. The marble floor echoed with the sound, and a sharp intake of breath came from the attendants. A maid rushed forward, fanning Meera with a hand-held pankha, while another dabbed her forehead with rosewater—palace protocol and concern flaring into action. For a second, guilt pricked me, but I was too unsettled to help her. I could hear her quiet sobs mingling with the faint chirp of crickets outside the window, making the palace feel emptier than usual.

“Your Majesty doesn’t love me anymore. You said you would make me Maharani today. I waited in the palace all day for the order, but it never came. I came to find you eagerly, only to be shut out again. If you really don’t want to make me Maharani, you shouldn’t have sweet-talked me before. Not only did you give me false hope, but now the other consorts are laughing at me.”

Her voice trembled, the tip of her finger shaking as she pointed at a red pillar—one of those age-old columns brought from Jaipur, said to bring luck. Tears sparkled in her eyes, catching the golden lamplight. She looked so helpless, like the stray kitten I’d once rescued from the palace kitchens. “I might as well just bash my head and die right here.”