31. Palace of Whispers

The palace was breathtaking—a grand complex of gleaming blue buildings surrounded by lush gardens, vibrant flowers, and sparkling ponds. Its vast, open courtyards and inviting facades welcomed all who approached. Emerging from a shimmering portal at the palace's edge, Sambh stepped onto the smooth marble floor with a mixture of awe and uncertainty.

He paused to take in the sweeping view of the palace grounds. In the center of a meticulously landscaped garden lay a beautiful pond, its surface dotted with clusters of radiant flowers.

A group of elegantly dressed ladies had gathered around the pond, diligently weaving what appeared to be decorative buckets or perhaps ceremonial vessels. In the midst of them, seated gracefully on a low, ornate bench, was Ruchi.

Her presence was enchanting—she wore a finely knitted cloak adorned with glimmering diamonds and rubies that accentuated her beauty. Several attendants assisted her, ensuring that every detail of her appearance was immaculate.

Sambh drew closer, his heart pounding with anticipation. As he neared the group, Ruchi halted her work and turned to face him. Her eyes, warm yet inscrutable, met his, and for a brief moment, time itself seemed to slow.

Just then, the old man who had accompanied Sambh—the advisor—stepped away from the group and approached Ruchi. He said with a respectful bow.

"Your Highness, I have brought him here as per your order, but I fear his presence may be overwhelming. I must reconsider this arrangement."

He hesitated before adding,"It is my duty to warn you: keeping him here might bring disaster."

Ruchi's gaze softened as she regarded the advisor, whose words stirred both caution and hidden longing within her.

In a measured, yet firm tone, she replied,"Jagartala, I understand your concerns, but I feel an inexplicable closeness to him. His presence fills me with delight, not dread."

She paused, her eyes searching the advisor's face for any sign of opposition, then turned back to Sambh.

After a moment of quiet contemplation, she declared,"Imprison him within the palace confines. Do not allow him to leave these grounds; let him wander freely only within these hallowed walls."

Sambh's brow furrowed at the command. Looking toward the advisor, he spoke with measured resolve,"Amitabha, if you would be so kind, please arrange for a tree—a place of meditation—for me to retreat to."

Ruchi smiled gently at his request. Rising gracefully from her seat, she said,"I will take you to the Eternal Tree and show you the private meditation chamber."

Without further delay, she departed with the advisor trailing behind, and Sambh followed in quiet contemplation.

They traversed long, sunlit corridors and marbled passageways, eventually emerging into an expansive garden that seemed to capture the very essence of spring. Lush foliage, bursting with color, surrounded a serene lake.

Near the water's edge, a colossal tree spread its magnificent branches wide, casting a protective shadow over the garden. Smaller flowering trees clustered nearby, their blossoms adding delicate hues to the vibrant scene.

Ruchi led Sambh beneath the shelter of the enormous tree. The soft murmur of the water and the rustling leaves created a natural symphony of calm.

Looking into his eyes, Ruchi said,"You may meditate here, Sambh. When your mind finds clarity, the soldiers at the gate will escort you to your room."

Sambh sat quietly beneath the eternal tree and whispered,"Thank you for your help. Since leaving the monastery, so much has changed—I can no longer find peace within my mind."

Ruchi offered a kind smile, replying,"Take all the time you need. Meditate, let your soul settle. I shall fetch some fruits for you."

With that, she gracefully departed, leaving Sambh alone under the vast canopy.

As minutes turned into hours, Sambh closed his eyes and sank deeply into meditation. The gentle rustling of leaves and the distant murmur of water soon merged with his inner thoughts, blurring the lines between reality and dreams. Yet, as the day wore on into twilight, he remained in a state of profound stillness—a silence so deep it seemed to echo the mysteries of his soul.

After a while, Ruchi returned carrying a bucket brimming with fresh, succulent fruits. She paused at the edge of the garden, watching over him as he meditated. The cool evening light danced upon his serene face, and she waited patiently, hopeful that he would awaken from his trance.

Time passed—first hours, then days—with no sign of movement from Sambh. Concern furrowed Ruchi's brow as she climbed a nearby tree branch to keep a vigilant watch over him.

Perched high above, she attempted to catch glimpses of his resting form through the shifting shadows and soft, fading light. Eventually, fatigue overtook her, and Ruchi drifted into a light nap on the branch, her eyelids heavy with worry.

The garden remained silent, the only sounds the gentle lapping of water against the pond and the rustle of leaves in the mild breeze. Yet, beneath this tranquil facade, an uneasy tension simmered.

The palace, with all its beauty and serenity, concealed secrets that had yet to reveal themselves. In the distance, the soft murmur of footsteps and hushed voices hinted at the coming of an unforeseen event.

As twilight deepened into a starry night, a sudden, almost imperceptible disturbance rippled through the garden. Ruchi's eyes fluttered open, and she sat up abruptly on her branch.

Her gaze swept across the garden, and her heart skipped a beat as she noticed a shadow moving near the pond—a shadow that did not belong to any known servant or guardian of the palace.

Ruchi leaned forward, straining to see in the dim light, when a faint whisper reached her ears—an urgent voice that seemed to beckon her,"Sambh... awaken."

Her pulse quickened. Was this the echo of his spirit, or had some mysterious force intruded upon the sanctity of the garden?

In that charged, uncertain moment, Ruchi realized that something was amiss. The silence of the palace grounds was breaking, and the promise of peace now hung by a fragile thread.

The enigmatic whisper, barely audible yet filled with urgency, suggested that the secrets of the palace were stirring once again—and that Sambh's deep meditation might be more than mere rest.

Clutching her heart, Ruchi called out softly into the darkness,"Sambh, if you can hear me, please wake up!"

Her plea echoed into the night, merging with the murmurs of the ancient trees and the gentle lapping of the pond. The garden held its breath, and for a long, tense moment, nothing happened.

Then, as if in answer to her desperate call, a single, soft sound—like a distant sigh—drifted on the wind. Ruchi's eyes widened with a mix of hope and apprehension.