Wasn’t just an unfortunate accident

"Rajkumarji, you need to get ready for the event. Otherwise, you'll be late—just like always," Radha's voice carried through the heavy wooden door, laced with both urgency and mild exasperation.

Inside the dimly lit chamber, the words barely registered in Kashi's mind. Everything around her felt distant, as if she were caught in a haze, struggling to grasp her surroundings or even comprehend what was unfolding before her. The air was thick with the lingering scent of sandalwood and jasmine, yet it did little to ground her wavering thoughts.

A long moment passed before she finally moved, her steps slow and uncertain as she reached for the ornate brass handle. As the door creaked open, the concerned faces of Radha and the maid came into view. Their expressions—knitted brows, searching eyes—spoke volumes before they uttered a word.

"Are you alright, Rajkumari?" Radha asked gently, her voice softer now, tinged with worry.

"Yeah… Yeah." Kashi stammered, though the words felt hollow, barely escaping her lips.

Radha and the maid exchanged a glance before gently guiding her toward the dressing chamber. The walls, adorned with intricate gold patterns, seemed to close in around her, their beauty lost on a mind drowning in turmoil. The scent of rosewater and freshly laundered silks filled the air, but Kashi barely noticed.

Her thoughts remained shackled to Chavi. This wasn't just an unfortunate accident. It wasn't fate playing its cruel hand.

Someone had done this.

Chavi's death hadn't been an accident. And if that was true… then everything Kashi had believed until now had been a lie.

A chilling shiver crawled down Kashi's spine as she clutched the rich fabric of her lehenga, her fingers trembling against the delicate embroidery. The weight of realization pressed against her chest like a boulder, making it difficult to breathe.

If Chavi's death had been orchestrated, then the question that now burned in her mind was—who had wanted her dead? And why?

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, drowning out the rustling of silks and the murmurs of the attendants moving around her. She could still see Veer's hollow gaze, the quiet agony in his voice whenever he spoke of Chavi. He had suffered, been shattered beyond repair. And now, for the first time, Kashi saw it for what it truly was—not a cruel twist of fate, but a carefully planned move.

Someone had pulled the strings. Someone had wanted Chavi gone. And that meant the nightmare wasn't over.

The maids and Radha adored Kashi, their days usually filled with laughter and lively chatter as they fussed over her attire and adorned her in jewels. But today, silence weighed upon the dressing chamber like an unseen force, thick with an unspoken tension that mirrored the storm raging within Kashi's mind.

The soft rustling of fabric and the faint clinking of bangles were the only sounds as they moved around her, their gazes lingering on her pale expression, their hands careful, as if afraid she might shatter under their touch.

Radha, ever the steady presence, adjusted the dupatta over Kashi's shoulder, her movements precise yet tender. When she finally spoke, her voice carried both reassurance and resolve.

"Rajkumari, you must stay strong," she murmured, her fingers lingering for a moment, as if silently offering strength. "Today is an important day."

Kashi barely registered Radha's words. Her fingers clenched the silk of her lehenga, grounding herself as her mind spiraled back to that night—the whispered warnings, the flickering torchlight, the chilling weight of realization pressing down on her.

Then, a sharp knock echoed through the chamber, shattering her trance.

The heavy door creaked open, revealing a guard standing stiffly, his expression carefully composed. He bowed with practiced precision before speaking. "Rajkumari, everyone is waiting for you in the main hall."

For a moment, Kashi hesitated. The world around her felt blurred, distant. But she forced herself to stand, her legs slightly unsteady beneath her. She couldn't afford weakness—not now. Drawing in a slow breath, she willed herself to push aside the chaos clawing at her chest.

With measured steps, she moved toward the door, the weight of expectation pressing down on her shoulders. Yet, beneath the layers of duty and decorum, one thought burned through the fog of her mind, fierce and unrelenting.

She would find out the truth.

No matter what it took.