Tonight is the night

In a storm of anger, he strode out of the chamber, leaving behind only the echoes of his cutting words. Kashi remained, standing amidst the silence that followed, yet inside, she crumbled. She had always been strong-willed, a woman of unshakable resolve, but even the fiercest hearts faltered when faced with relentless rejection. How much strength could she truly summon when the one she loved dismissed her affections so easily—when he never even wished for her?

But a queen could not afford to break.

Lifting her chin, she straightened her posture, steadying herself with the weight of duty. With measured grace, she turned on her heels, her dupatta flowing behind her as she made her way toward the grand royal chamber. The golden torches lining the marble corridors flickered, casting elongated shadows against the towering pillars.

As she entered the vast hall, a murmur rippled through the gathered nobles, their whispers threading through the air like an unseen current. Yet Kashi did not falter. She walked with the poise of a sovereign, her every step a declaration of her birthright, her pride unshaken. Her gaze swept over the sea of opulent silks and gilded ornaments, but in the end, she sought only one face. Even after everything, her eyes searched for him—Veer.

And there he stood, surrounded by dignitaries, his expression unreadable, his presence magnetic as ever.

Summoning a poised, formal smile to her lips, she moved toward him, offering a gracious nod in greeting to the assembled guests. No trace of turmoil lingered in her expression, no sign of the storm that raged within. She was a queen, and tonight, she would play her part to perfection.

They maintained their facade, their presence together a carefully crafted illusion—for the court, for the nobles, for the empire. But beneath the gilded pretense, there was only emptiness.

For Veer, a void where Chavi once existed, an ache that no duty, no crown, and certainly no other love could fill.

For Kashi, a void of another kind—one that ached to be seen, to be loved, to matter to the man who had always belonged to someone else.

But how could she not love him? From the moment she was old enough to understand her fate, she had been prepared for this—groomed to be his queen, trained to embody grace, wisdom, and unwavering devotion. It was a destiny written long before she could dream of another. And the world accepted it as truth, as an inevitability.

But Veer had rebelled.

He had defied tradition, turned away from the path laid before him, and married Chavi—the woman he had chosen, the woman he had loved first.

Kashi had stood by, watching as her carefully woven future unraveled at his hands. And yet, here they were, side by side once more, bound by duty rather than desire.

Still, she smiled—a queen's smile, polished and poised—as she acknowledged the nobles around her. With effortless grace, she parted from Veer's side, making her way through the throng of silk-clad courtiers and armored guards toward the only sanctuary she had left.

Her family.

Her mother and father stood waiting, their gazes warm, their presence a rare comfort amidst the grandeur. And beside them, her little sister, Kavya, eyes bright with admiration.

Reaching them, Kashi lowered herself with reverence, touching her parents' feet in a silent plea for their blessings. As her mother's gentle hand brushed over her head in a loving caress, she felt the smallest measure of peace settle within her.

And then, before rising, she stole a fleeting moment of tenderness, pressing a soft kiss to Kavya's forehead. The little girl giggled, wrapping her arms around Kashi in an embrace that felt purer than any other she had known.

For just that moment, Kashi allowed herself to feel something real.

"How are you, dear?" her father asked, his voice laced with warmth as he gazed at her with adoration.

"I am fine, Baba. How are you?" she replied, her tone soft yet measured, the weight of the evening still lingering in her mind.

"We are all doing well," he assured her, his eyes gleaming with pride. "But we miss our sweet little daughter."

Kashi smiled, the warmth of his words momentarily melting away the burdens she carried.

"I heard you did this all," he continued, gesturing toward the grand spectacle around them—the opulent chandeliers casting golden light over the guests, the intricate floral arrangements perfuming the air, the flawless orchestration of music and laughter weaving through the halls.

A faint flush colored her cheeks. "Yes," she admitted shyly.

It was her first grand event since her marriage, the Night of Royals—a sacred tradition where every new bride of the empire was tasked with hosting an evening of splendor, proving her grace, capability, and strength as queen. A test, not just of her ability to manage a court, but of her endurance.

The nobles, dignitaries, and courtiers soon gathered around, offering their praises, commending her for the brilliance of the night. She accepted each word with practiced humility, knowing this was yet another role she was expected to perfect.

But before she could linger too long in the conversations, a familiar voice cut through the air.

"Kashi."

She turned to see Radha, her lady-in-waiting, stepping forward with urgency. Closing the distance between them, Radha dipped her head slightly before whispering, "The cheering event of the night is about to begin."

Kashi inhaled deeply, steeling herself. The night was far from over. The final and most anticipated event awaited.

With one last glance at her family, she straightened her posture and nodded. "Let us go."

And with that, she walked forward, ready to fulfill yet another duty.

Kashi nodded slightly, offering her father a fleeting smile before taking her leave. With the grace of a queen, she moved toward her in-laws, slipping seamlessly into her place beside them. But just as she did, a hushed murmur brushed past her ears—soft, almost lost within the grand chamber's hum of conversation.

"Tonight is the night."

The words came out of nowhere, whispered from an unseen source, but before she could linger on their meaning, she let them drift away. This was not the time to pry.

A procession of servants moved elegantly through the gathering, silver trays in hand, offering each noble a delicate crystal goblet filled with the ceremonial drink. The golden liquid shimmered under the glow of the chandeliers, a symbol of unity and celebration. One by one, the guests accepted their glasses, lifting them in silent anticipation of the toast to come.

But as the tray reached Kashi, it halted abruptly.

Empty.

A miscalculation.

A flicker of unease passed through her, but she maintained her composure, waiting patiently as another servant stepped forward, handing her a glass. She accepted it with poised formality, lifting it in tandem with the others. The clinking of crystal resonated through the chamber as the guests toasted, and then, as tradition demanded, she drank.

The moment the liquid touched her lips, a sharp, searing sensation burned down her throat. It was too intense, unnatural—like fire laced with something far more sinister.

A sudden cough tore through the air.

Her gaze snapped toward the source, and her heart stilled.

Veer.

His face was contorted, his hand tightening around his glass, his breath labored as he struggled against an unseen force. A ripple of gasps spread through the hall, heads turning, eyes widening. The murmurs grew louder, whispers threading between the nobles like wildfire.

A single realization gripped her—something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

Without hesitation, Kashi stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest. The weight of countless stares settled upon them, the air thick with suspicion and fear.

And then, the room erupted into chaos.

A sharp, searing pain twisted in Kashi's stomach. The heat in her throat intensified, spreading like wildfire through her veins. Her vision blurred for a moment, the golden hues of the grand chamber warping, twisting.

Then came the taste of metal.

She gasped, a strangled sound escaping her lips as she felt something rise from within. A violent cough racked her body, and suddenly, warm liquid gushed past her lips—deep crimson, staining the emerald of her attire.

Blood.

It wasn't just her.

Veer staggered beside her, his hand clutching his throat, his eyes wide with shock. Blood dripped from his lips, dark and thick against his skin. His glass slipped from his grasp, shattering against the marble floor, the sound lost beneath the gasps and cries that now filled the chamber.

"Kashi!" A voice—distant, frantic—reached her ears, but everything was fading. The world tilted. The murmurs around her grew louder, distorted, blending into one deafening cacophony.

"She's poisoned!" someone yelled.

"The king—look at him! He's the same!"

"Someone call the royal physician!"

Fear gripped the hall as nobles pushed back, uncertainty and horror rippling through the crowd.

Kashi tried to move towards Veer, tried to speak, tried to call him but her body betrayed her. Her knees buckled, and before she could stop herself, she collapsed. Cold arms caught her, but the world around her was dissolving, the edges turning black.

Somewhere in the distance, she heard the sound of armored guards storming in, the cries of her family calling her name, the panicked shouts of courtiers scrambling away in fear.

Then, all at once, everything faded into darkness.