Chapter 43: The Silent Pursuer

Satya barely had time to react before the figure lunged at him. He instinctively pulled Saanvi behind him, bracing for impact. But instead of attacking, the shadowed figure stopped just short, its presence looming in the dim moonlight.

A low voice broke the silence.

"You shouldn't have come this far."

Satya narrowed his eyes, his pulse pounding. The voice was unfamiliar but filled with warning.

Saanvi tightened her grip on the letter hidden in her pocket. "Who are you?"

The figure didn't answer immediately. Instead, it turned its head slightly—as if listening for something. Then, almost too calmly, it stepped back into the darkness.

"I suggest you leave before you regret it," the voice murmured before disappearing completely.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Saanvi exhaled sharply, her heart racing. "That wasn't a simple warning," she whispered. "Whoever that was… they've been watching us."

Satya nodded. "And now they know we have the letter."

Devraj stepped forward, his face unreadable. "This is bad," he muttered. "If they let you go now, it means they're planning something worse."

Satya clenched his fists. "Then we don't have time to waste. We need to find the Rathore family's forbidden chamber."

Saanvi hesitated. "But what if they're waiting for us to make that move? What if this is exactly what they want?"

Devraj's expression hardened. "Then you have only two choices—run or fight."

Satya met Saanvi's gaze. There was no hesitation in her eyes.

"We fight," she said.

---

The Forbidden Chamber

By the next evening, they were back at the palace ruins, carefully avoiding any prying eyes. The letter had hinted at secrets buried deeper than anyone had dared to uncover.

Devraj led them through a series of corridors until they reached a heavily ornamented door, covered in dust and faded engravings. The Rathore crest was carved into the wood—a silent reminder of the power that once ruled here.

"This is it," Devraj whispered. "The chamber no one was allowed to enter. Even the last living Rathores avoided it."

Satya reached for the handle. The cold metal sent a shiver up his spine. With a deep breath, he pushed it open.

The air inside was thick with the scent of old parchment and something else—a faint trace of decay.

Saanvi stepped inside cautiously, her heart hammering. The room was filled with towering bookshelves, ancient scrolls, and sealed chests. It was a treasure trove of forgotten history.

But what caught their attention wasn't the books.

It was the large painting mounted on the far wall.

A portrait of a young man.

Veer.

Satya's breath hitched. There he was, his past self staring back at him with intense, knowing eyes.

And beneath the painting, an inscription was carved into the stone:

"Loyalty should never be a death sentence."

Saanvi traced the words with her fingertips. "This is proof that someone tried to keep Veer's story alive."

Satya turned, scanning the room. If Veer had uncovered a secret, it had to be hidden somewhere in this chamber.

He began searching through the shelves, running his hands over the spines of books, pulling open drawers. Then, he saw it—a small, locked chest sitting atop an old table.

Saanvi reached for it. The lock was rusted but still intact.

"We need to open this," she said.

Devraj pulled out a small blade and worked at the lock. After a few tense seconds—click.

The chest creaked open.

Inside, wrapped in silk, was an old diary.

Satya carefully lifted it out. The cover was cracked with age, but the name scrawled on the front was unmistakable.

Veer Rathore.

His heart pounded. This was it. Veer's final words. The truth was within their grasp.

But before he could open it—

A loud bang echoed through the chamber.

Someone had slammed the door shut.

And locked it from the outside.