Chapter 62: chapter 62

S A N M A Y I The first light of dawn cast a pale glow over Amaravati, and the palace courtyard brimmed with activity. Dancers adorned in silks practiced their graceful movements, priests arranged offerings for the poojas, and the air carried the mingling scents of marigolds and sandalwood. Preparations for the wedding had begun in earnest, a celebration meant to rival any in the kingdom’s history. Yet beneath the surface of joy, an undercurrent of unease rippled, faint but undeniable.I stood by the temple steps, my gaze fixed on the intricate rangoli patterns being drawn at the courtyard's center. Each swirl of color felt like a prayer to the gods, a plea for a future unmarred by the shadows of the past. My sari, a deep crimson adorned with gold, felt heavy against my skin, its weight a reminder of the role I was about to embrace.“Sanmayi,” Ranajay’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned to see him approaching, his steps deliberate, his expression calm. He was dressed in a simple ivory kurta, his presence commanding despite the unassuming attire. “The priests are ready for us.”I nodded, my heart fluttering. The blessing of the ancestors was a sacred ritual, a tradition that bound us to the past even as we stepped into the future. Yet as much as I believed in the power of these rituals, I couldn’t shake the unease that had crept into my thoughts since morning.We ascended the temple steps together, his hand brushing against mine in a silent gesture of reassurance. Inside, the air was thick with incense, the golden glow of lamps casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. The priests awaited us at the altar, their chants resonating with a rhythm that seemed to vibrate in my very bones.As we knelt before the sacred fire, one of the priests handed me a garland of fresh jasmine. “Offer this to your ancestors,” he said, his voice low and melodic. “Seek their blessings, for their guidance will light your path.”I took the garland with trembling hands, closing my eyes as I placed it on the altar. My mind reached back to my mother, whose laughter had once filled our home, and my father, who had fallen defending our kingdom. Their faces flickered in my memory like faint shadows, and I whispered a prayer, my words silent but fervent. Guide me. Show me how to build a life from the ruins we left behind.Beside me, Ranajay offered his own prayers, his voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. When the ritual concluded, the priests sprinkled holy water over us, their blessings a balm against the weight of our fears. Yet as we descended the steps, a shiver ran down my spine, a feeling I could not explain.---The festivities continued into the afternoon, the palace alive with music and laughter. Courtiers and servants bustled about, their excitement contagious. Yet amid the revelry, I found myself drawn to the quiet corners of the palace, seeking solace from the noise.I wandered into the gallery overlooking the gardens, my footsteps echoing softly against the marble floor. It was here that I overheard the first whisper of trouble.Two voices, hushed and urgent, carried through the open corridor.“Does she truly think she belongs here?” one voice said, its tone dripping with contempt. “A rebel queen—what a farce.”“Patience,” the second voice replied, quieter but no less venomous. “King Jayavikram won’t let this farce last long. Plans are already in motion.”I froze, my breath catching in my throat. The voices faded as their owners moved away, leaving behind only the echo of their ominous words. My pulse quickened, and I gripped the railing for support. Plans are in motion. What did that mean? And how could Jayavikram still wield influence from his exile?---I found Ranajay in the main hall, deep in conversation with Lord Ratan and Lady Vishaka. His laughter rang out as he gestured animatedly, a rare moment of ease amid the chaos of the preparations. Yet as I approached, my unease must have shown on my face, for his expression softened the moment he saw me.“Sanmayi,” he said, excusing himself from the conversation and stepping closer. “What’s wrong?”I hesitated, unsure of how much to share in such a public setting. “I overheard something,” I said finally, keeping my voice low. “People are speaking of Jayavikram—and plans. It sounded... dangerous.”Ranajay’s brow furrowed, but he placed a reassuring hand on my arm. “There are always whispers in the palace, my love. Let the court plot and grumble—it’s what they do best. They’ll see soon enough that our union is unshakable.”His confidence was soothing, but it did little to quiet the unease gnawing at me. “Still,” I said, glancing around to ensure no one was listening, “we can’t afford to be careless. The court may resent us, but Jayavikram is another matter entirely. He has nothing to lose.”Ranajay nodded, his gaze steady. “I’ll look into it,” he promised. “But for now, focus on the celebration. This is our moment, Sanmayi. Let’s not let shadows dim it.”---As evening fell, the palace transformed into a vision of light and color. Thousands of lanterns illuminated the gardens, their soft glow reflected in the still waters of the fountains. The scent of flowers and spices lingered in the cool night air, mingling with the sound of music that drifted from the banquet hall.Yet even amidst the beauty, another ill omen struck. A servant carrying a mirror—meant to be part of the bridal preparations—tripped on the stairs, the glass shattering into a thousand glittering shards. Gasps rippled through the onlookers, and I felt my heart sink. Among my people, a broken mirror was a harbinger of misfortune, a crack in the fabric of fate.“Pay no heed to superstitions,” Ranajay said later, when he found me staring at the pieces still scattered across the floor. “We make our own destiny, Sanmayi. Mirrors are only glass.”“And what of whispers and threats?” I countered, my voice barely above a whisper. “What of omens and uneasy dreams? How much of destiny is ours to shape?”He took my hands in his, his grip warm and grounding. “Enough to know that whatever lies ahead, we will face it together.”---That night, as I lay awake in my chambers, the fragments of the day replayed in my mind—the whispers in the corridor, the broken mirror, the faint but unshakable sense that something was amiss. I had prayed to the gods, sought the blessings of my ancestors, yet the answers I sought felt maddeningly out of reach.In the darkness, a single thought took root in my mind, its weight pressing down on me like the heat of the summer sun. Love is not a shield against the storms that will come. But perhaps it is enough to light the way through the dark.As I drifted into uneasy sleep, I resolved to hold fast to that light, even as the shadows closed in.