When Viddhi was finally alone in her chamber, the elaborate mask of the shy, blushing princess shattered and fell away. The carefully constructed performance vanished, leaving behind the raw, unvarnished truth that fueled her very existence. The demure smile was replaced by a thin, hard line, and her eyes, which had moments ago shimmered with manufactured tears, now blazed with the familiar, cold fire of vengeance. She walked to the large arched window, her movements now purposeful and sharp, devoid of the delicate grace she displayed in court. She stood there, a solitary silhouette against the moonlit night, her gaze piercing the darkness, fixed unerringly in the direction of Suryagarh.
'Yes, Vidhaan...' The thought was a venomous whisper in the quiet of her mind, a deadly promise sealed in silence. 'I will marry you. But this will not be a union. This will be the beginning of your end.'
The memories, never far from the surface, flooded her. The phantom sounds of clashing steel and desperate screams echoed in her ears. The ghostly image of her father, Maharaja Veerendra Pratap, kneeling in defiance, and the sickening, final arc of the masked traitor's sword. The sight of her mother, Maharani Devyani, lying still in a pool of crimson. And Ayaan... her Ayaan, whose only crime was loving her and standing by her family. 'You murdered my parents. You slaughtered my husband. You stole my life, my family, my very identity. You left me with nothing but ashes and a hollowed-out soul.'
Her hands, which had been clasped so delicately before the court, now clenched into white-knuckled fists at her sides, her nails digging half-moons into her palms. The physical pain was a grounding counterpoint to the storm of hatred within. 'Now, I will get so close to you that my shadow will be the last thing you see. I will walk into your home, the home you built on the bones of my family, and from within your own palace, from the very heart of your power, I will make you pay. I will return every ounce of pain you inflicted, a thousandfold.'
A cruel, chilling smile, devoid of any warmth or mirth, finally touched her lips. It was the smile of a predator that had just cornered its prey. 'This marriage will become the most powerful weapon of my revenge. You will look at me and see your queen, your prize. But you will be embracing your executioner. You will whisper words of love to the woman who has come to deliver your death sentence.'
She leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the windowpane, her breath fogging a small circle. 'Suryagarh...' The name was a prayer and a curse on her lips. 'Prepare yourself. Your true princess is returning. And this time, she does not come in hiding, cowering in shadows. She comes as your Maharani. She comes to reclaim what is hers, and she will paint your throne red with the blood of the usurper.'
'Raja Vidhaan...' she whispered aloud, the name tasting like poison. 'Now, I am coming for you.'
Viddhi's web was complete. The trap had been set with her own consent, her own hand. She was now poised to step directly into the lion's den. The final, most perilous journey of her vengeance had officially begun.
: Suryagarh's Response and Preparations
The messenger from Chandragarh, carrying the formal acceptance of the marriage proposal, reached Suryagarh with swift horses. Within days, a reply arrived, bearing the official seal of the lion of Suryagarh. The letter was filled with effusive joy and triumphant language. Raja Vidhaan was described as being "exceedingly pleased" and "overflowing with delight." He urged for the wedding preparations to commence with all possible speed, his eagerness palpable in every carefully penned word.
The following weeks transformed both kingdoms into a whirlwind of celebration and frantic activity. In Chandragarh, the air, once heavy with Viddhi's secret grief, was now filled with the scent of marigolds and the sounds of musicians practicing joyful wedding ballads. The palace was draped in vibrant silks and illuminated with countless oil lamps, their warm glow attempting to chase away any lingering shadows. In Suryagarh, similar preparations were underway, though they carried a different tone—one of showcasing power and opulence to welcome the bride who had captivated their ruthless king. Everywhere one looked, there was an atmosphere of festivity and ululations, a stark contrast to the silent war raging in the heart of the princess at the center of it all.
: A Mother's Touch and a Father's Heart
The night before the wedding, a soft knock announced a visitor to Viddhi's chamber. She was seated before her ornate vanity, where maids were carefully arranging her hair for the next day's ceremonies. When Maharani Madhavi entered, she dismissed the attendants with a gentle wave. The room fell into a intimate silence, broken only by the soft crackle of the fireplace.
When they were alone, the Maharani came and sat beside Viddhi, taking her hands in her own. Her eyes, usually so composed, shimmered with a complex mix of pride and profound sadness.
"My daughter," Maharani Madhavi began, her voice thick with emotion. "I never imagined this day would come so soon. Just a year ago, you were... you were lost to us, adrift in a deep slumber from which we feared you would never wake. And today... today you are to be married to a powerful king." She squeezed Viddhi's hands, as if trying to physically imprint this moment into her memory.
Viddhi looked at this woman who was not her birth mother, but who had, for this past year, loved her with a tenderness that felt utterly real. A confusing knot of guilt and genuine affection tightened in her chest.
"Mother," Viddhi said, her voice soft.
"Letting you go, my child... it is not easy," the Maharani confessed, a tear finally escaping and tracing a path down her cheek. "But we know this is for the good of you, and for both our kingdoms. Maharaj Vidhaan is a mighty ruler, and he holds you in such high esteem."
The Maharani reached out and cupped Viddhi's face, her touch gentle and maternal. "Promise me, beta... promise me you will take care of yourself. As the Queen of Suryagarh, rule with compassion and wisdom. And... and remember this old mother sometimes."
Viddhi's heart swelled, and the tears that welled in her eyes this time were not a performance. This was a moment of true, unscripted emotion. She leaned forward and enveloped the Maharani in a tight embrace. "Mother... you are my dearest mother. The memory of your love will always be with me. I will always strive to honor you and Father. Please, do not worry for me."
Mother and daughter held each other for a long time, their quiet tears a testament to a bond that had blossomed in the most extraordinary of circumstances. For Viddhi, this was a farewell not just to a home, but to the life of "Viddhi of Chandragarh"—a life that was not hers, but which had given her shelter, love, and a second chance.
Later that night, another, heavier knock sounded on her door. It was Maharaj Rudrapratap. He stood in the doorway, his large frame seeming to fill the space, his usual commanding presence softened by the occasion. He entered slowly, his eyes taking in the scene—his daughter, soon to be sent away.
"Viddhi," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble, deeper and more emotional than she had ever heard it. He struggled to find words, a rare sight for a king accustomed to giving commands. "The palace... it will be too quiet without the sound of your laughter echoing in these halls."
He stepped closer, placing his large, strong hands on her shoulders. "I look at you now, and I do not see the fragile girl we nursed back to health. I see a queen. A strong, intelligent woman." He paused, his jaw tightening as he fought back his own emotion. "When you stand beside Vidhaan tomorrow, remember the strength of Chandragarh flows in your veins. You are not just a bride; you are an ambassador of our legacy, our pride."
He looked her directly in the eyes, his gaze intense and full of a father's unwavering faith. "Wherever you go, whatever you face, know this: You are a princess of Chandragarh. Your courage is your crown, and your wisdom, your scepter. Do not let anyone make you feel otherwise." He pulled her into a brief, powerful embrace, a bear hug that conveyed all the words he couldn't speak. "Be happy, my child. That is all a father truly wants."
As he left the room, Viddhi stood motionless, the weight of his words and his love settling upon her. It was a heavy, beautiful burden. In that moment, the cold fire of her vengeance was momentarily banked, warmed by the genuine, selfless love of the parents fate had given her. It added a new, painful layer to her mission, strengthening her resolve not just for revenge, but to be worthy of the love they had so freely given. She would become the queen they believed her to be, even if the path to that throne was paved with deception and blood.