The moment Viddhi looked into Chacha Veervar Singh's eyes, her heart was gripped by a strange confusion. His eyes were deep, experienced, and filled with a truth that could not lie. They reflected the same profound pain that was lodged in her own heart, as if the two of them were bound by an invisible thread.
"Beta Viddhi," the Chacha said in his grave, weighty voice, which held a remarkable blend of affection and authority, "Welcome to Suryagarh. The walls of this palace have not witnessed such a sweet and pure energy in a very long time. You truly enhance its grandeur."
"Thank you very much, Chachashree," Viddhi replied, bowing her head humbly, infusing her voice with an artificial sweetness. "It feels wonderful to hear that."
After the court formalities concluded, Chacha Veervar Singh invited Viddhi for a private tea at his residence. His quarters were located in a quiet part of the palace, a symbol of simplicity and dignity. As Viddhi entered, her gaze fell upon a young man standing in the courtyard. He was nocking an arrow to his bow, his body lithe and his concentration absolute. There was a visible discipline in his every movement.
"This is my son, Arjun," the Chacha introduced with pride. Arjun immediately lowered his bow and touched Viddhi's feet with great respect. "Bhabhii," he said, his voice filled with clear deference. Viddhi smiled and blessed him, a slight pang of envy rising in her heart at the sight of such a natural and loving bond between a father and son—a bond she had lost.
After tea was served, the Chacha gestured for Viddhi to sit. A deep silence fell, which was broken when a storm began to gather in Chacha Veervar Singh's eyes. His face, which had seemed firm and impassive just moments before, now began to drown in emotion.
"Beta Viddhi," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "Do you know... the man everyone sees today as a powerful, unshakeable king, Vidhaan was once an innocent, laughing and playing child, just like any other?"
Viddhi offered no reply, simply watching him, steeling her heart to listen.
"He was only ten years old," the Chacha's voice grew hoarse, and he placed his teacup on the table as if he no longer had the strength to hold it. "That night... that terrible night... when darkness suddenly fell upon the palace. Chaos spread." His eyes were seeing a scene that remained vivid even after all these years. "My brother... Vidhaan's father... and his mother... both..." his voice dropped to almost a whisper, "...were taken from him. Right before his eyes. A child witnessed everything that no one should ever have to see."
Viddhi's breath caught in her throat. Her own wounds, so freshly reopened, began to ache with a new intensity. The story was so parallel to her own that it terrified her.
"I took a vow that day," the Chacha said, wiping a tear, his fist clenching, "that I would make this orphaned boy the apple of my eye. That I would give him more love and protection than even my own son, Arjun. I taught him, raised him... and look, today that very frightened, broken child is the Maharaja of Suryagarh." There was pride in his tone, but behind it lay an unresolved sorrow.
: An Emotional Farewell and a New Responsibility
After talking a while longer, when Viddhi rose to take her leave, Chacha Veervar Singh held her hand. His fingers, though calloused, held an incredible strength. His eyes held a father's boundless love and a deep, silent plea.
"Beta Viddhi," he said in a deep, emotional voice, "I am an older man now. My hair has turned grey, and my physical strength is waning. If I had my way, I would protect that boy every second, with every breath, as I have until now. But now... now that responsibility rests on your gentle yet strong shoulders."
Viddhi listened silently, her own heart turning to stone. This was not the burden she wanted to bear.
"Vidhaan has suffered a great deal of pain, beta," the Chacha's voice held a plea, a supplication that was hard to refuse. "On the outside, he seems a strong, invincible king before whom everyone bows. But on the inside... on the inside he is still that same scared, lonely child who lost his entire world in one night. His heart carries a deep, untouched wound that has never healed. You... you have the power. You must look after him. Give him the love he was deprived of a lifetime ago. Bring a little happiness, a little warmth into this empty and cold life of his. This is this old Chacha's only request from you."
Unwanted tears welled up in Viddhi's eyes. Everything was becoming so complicated. The person from whom she sought revenge had turned out to be a victim himself. She took the Chacha's trembling hands in her own and said in a firm, earnest tone:
"Chachashree, please be at peace. The responsibility you have placed in my hands, I will fulfill with complete sincerity. I... I will take full care of Maharaj Vidhaan. I will try my utmost to bring happiness into his life. This is now my greatest responsibility."
A look of immediate relief and deep gratitude washed over the Chacha's face, as if a heavy burden had been lifted. He blessed Viddhi by touching her head and bid her farewell.
: Viddhi's Inner Turmoil
Returning to her chamber, Viddhi was utterly broken and confused. She stood at the window, looking out at Suryagarh—the city that was once her home and had now become her most terrible prison. The Chacha's words echoed in her ears.
'He was an orphan too... he also lost his parents... he suffered the same pain that I did...'
But then, like a bolt of lightning, the images from that horrific night flashed in her mind. Her father, Maharaja Veerendra Pratap's neck, held high with pride, and then... blood. Her mother, Maharani Devyani's final, pain-filled scream. And Ayaan... her Ayaan's helpless face, killed trying to save her.
'But he killed my parents!' her inner self screamed. 'He took everything from me! His pain, his suffering does not give him the right to inflict pain on others, to destroy other people's homes! Being a victim does not grant anyone a license to become an executioner!'
Her eyes filled with fire and tears once more—this time, the fire was of vengeance and the tears were of an unwanted, debilitating sympathy. She slapped her forehead hard, as if to jolt herself awake.
'Vidhika! Get a hold of yourself! Don't get swept away by emotions. This is all part of the plan. Chacha's pity and Vidhaan's pain... these are all obstacles in your path, traps to weaken your resolve. Stay firm. Keep your focus on your goal. Your parents' souls are watching you.'
She took a deep, shuddering breath and made a firm resolution. She would keep the promise she made to the Chacha, but in her own way. She would 'look after' Vidhaan—yes, she would. She would look after him by keeping an account of his every step, every decision, every crime, and slowly, very carefully, lead him to his fate.
Viddhi's mind had now become a bloody battlefield, where the flames of revenge and the cold shadow of unwanted sympathy were constantly clashing. And in this brutal war, she felt that the most difficult task would not be to defeat the enemy, but to kill the seed of mercy hidden within her own heart