Mandakini Devi entered the chambers allotted to her in the royal inner palace and immediately noticed the paintings on the walls and ceilings, which were richer in art than those of Suryapali. She was informed by her chambermaid that the queen herself chose every curtain and furniture in her room to match the traditional ways of Neelambargarh. If it were a few years earlier, Mandakini Devi would have held it against Priyambada, but now she seemed to find herself appreciating the handloom work on the bedsheet and the paintings on the ceiling. There was a small step to get up on the bed, made with curtains around it, and the chests of clothes also acted as a dresser. There was a mirror in a corner, and the small window looked over the private gardens. Once she stepped out of her room, she could see the inner courtyard, the only place she was allowed to be in besides the corridor of her chambers, and if she looked up, she could spot the king’s chamber and terrace gardens. The shift into the royal palace premises came with an order sealed with the queen’s approval that, since she was the oldest member of the family, she would henceforth be addressed as Mahadevi instead of Rajkumari, as she was now equivalent to a Rajmata to Neelambargarh. Although grateful to the queen, Mandakini Devi was aware that she was, in fact, being watched and tested on her loyalty every moment of every day by a lot of Neelambargarhi who didn’t trust her, even her own nephew. She thanked the lord and decided to write a letter of gratitude to the queen before proceeding through the day’s chores.
General Shivanandan could say that he was impressed with the Maharaja of Neelambargarh after a brief meeting. He was in no way similar to his father, and that somehow, oddly reassured the general. Although not fully convinced, the Maharaja had appointed him to be the guard for Mahadevi Mandakini, and that meant he was back to where he started. He was surprised that the queen provided him with a chamber next to that of the Mahadevi, something unusually honourable for a man of his status, and he wondered if it was to make sure they were loyal to Neelambargarh. It was around midday when Shivanandan came to Mandakini Devi’s threshold and bowed, and she felt overwhelmed that he and his men were fine. Surprised that the Maharaja appointed him as her guard, after a brief, awkward moment, she just smiled back at him. Although no words were spoken, they both knew it was the universe’s divine intervention that had turned the clock back for them and reset it at a time as if to give them a second chance at life. Neither of them wanted to let go of this opportunity. He pledged to help her nephew as she thanked him rather formally, aware of the maid and guards around them, before he bowed and left. Mandakini couldn’t help but think about how he still affected her in a childishly giddy way as he did every time he bowed when she was a teen. But this time, she had to be careful. Nothing in the royal demeanour of Neelambargarh suggested they wouldn’t scandalise her affection towards a particular general and hold it against her. But Mandakini was in no hurry to rush things this time and make mistakes.
Weeks seemed to pass by really fast for the land beyond the Heemdevi, with the growing tension between Suryapali and Neelambargarh. General Digvijay and his troops, along with his family, whose escape from Suryapali spread far and wide, and bards sang songs of his true loyalty and bravery, had joined the troops of Neelambargarh too, at Siyori. Maharaja Ishaan Dev was even more pleased to receive the letter from Chandramer and planned to visit them, informing Raja Viraj about it. The routes he would take should be secret, and it was mostly up to Devdoot to supervise each detail before his departure; he believed nobody and left no stone unturned. Maharani Priyambada, although preoccupied with administrative work, managed to find time to sit with Urvi and plan what would be a grand celebration of Rajputra Mrityunjoy’s first birth year. She planned to distribute clothes, make an announcement in every village, distribute sweets and hold a prayer at every royal shrine across the land. Days before the event, noblemen and royals presented the prince with gifts, which were all duly checked before finding a place in his chambers.
Maharani Priyambada was in the Rajputra’s bed chamber when she heard urgent footsteps in the corridor, and Maharaja Ishaan Dev walked in, demanding to be left alone with his family. As the wet nurses left, a scared Priyambada turned to face him as he shut the door behind him.
“I have some information.” As soon as he said it, Priyambada knew it was about the whereabouts of Trishaan Dev.
“Where is Trishaan Dev?” Maharani Priyambada looked visibly pale as Maharaja Ishaan Dev wiped away sweat from his forehead.
“That is why I am here. We have to delay the celebrations… They attacked Meendeep.” Maharani Priyambada gasped, startling Mrityunjoy, who looked at his mother with concern as his father took him in his arms with a reassuring smile and kissed him goodbye before rushing to plan to leave for Meendeep. They were paying the cost of being loyal to him, and this was his chance to prove to his people and the land beyond the Heemdevi that he was an able ruler who was there for his allies. Maharani Priyambada wondered if Sumedha was trying to discreetly warn her about this, hinting at Trishaan Dev not being in the capital, or if she was evasive about it even after knowing everything. Could she really blame Sumedha if she knew and did not tell? She read the letter again. She had asked about Mandakini Devi. There was no way Priyambada was confirming that information to Suryapali yet. In a way, it was good that they would think twice before harming Trinayani Devi, but if they had found the missing maps, she did not want Mandakini Devi's life to be in danger. In her diplomacy, she wrote back saying they had heard the same rumours and were looking for her as well, hoping that Sumedha did not question her lie.
Meendeep had never anticipated a sudden attack in the earliest hours of a normal, quiet morning. The soldiers posted at their ports had seen Suryapalian ship movements happening over a month and never found it significant enough to inform the capital. If anything, they were preparing for war with Neelambargarh, the general in charge figured. Suryapalian ships often used the waters of the strait and were visible to Meendeep, so it was not an event out of the ordinary. After all the movements seemed to be drills and practice, and not intimidating in any way. Trishaan Dev had planned just that. For the first few days, he could sense that the shores of Meendeep were on alert when they saw the Suryapalian ships in the water in the distance. He wanted the element of surprise, so he made sure every day the ships made the same movement that would make it look like a drill and not intimidate the island. After weeks of sitting around, when the Suryapalian generals and soldiers started questioning his sanity behind his back, Trishaan Dev decided it was a perfect time to attack. Thousands of Suryapalian soldiers used smaller boats from their ships to the island at night, to avoid suspicion and sprang a surprise attack on them at dawn. By midday, the message had reached the royal court of Rana Tejashwi, and Rajputra Mahendra had been dispatched with the army alongside the heir apparent. It was when the heir apparent’s throat was slashed by Trishaan Dev’s sword that Mahendra found it wise to flee the battle alongside the remaining troops, and the Suryapalian soldiers marched to the capital. But before fleeing, Mahendra took one final revenge. His spies told him that one of the ships, anchored near the shores close to the delta of the Maya, belonged to some civilians who accompanied the troops, accountants, cooks, maids, etc. One night in the darkest of hours, he led his men on a small boat to set fire to the ship. Most of the people on board who never anticipated it jumped off to save their lives and drowned, while others were burned alive. Trishaan Dev retaliated with a decision. They wouldn’t accept if Meendeep wanted to surrender. It was either captivity or death for them. Although it would be against what Maharaja Ravi Varman anticipated, Trishaan Dev knew it would earn him the favour of the court, especially since some of Suryapali's eminent generals and royal servants died in the fire.
After much deliberation, Rana Tejaswi decided to stay and fight his last battle honourably, his queen and ladies of the royal palace agreeing to not flee like cowards but embracing death at their own will, while Mahendra convinced his parents to flee the capital in the darkest hour of the night. It was the only way to keep their bloodline alive, he believed. Little boats made their way to the Neelambargarhi shores, abandoning their people’s fate at the hands of the enemy. Although Meendeep was surrounded by Suryapalian ships, the boats seemed to be patrolling at night, the Suryapalian flag flying high like many of their boats, which now surrounded Meendeep. While Mahendra and his father sat on the boat in relative silence, Mridula Devi, who had left behind the king’s royal ladies in the capital knowing she was deceiving them and would perhaps never see them alive again, wiped her tears, as she turned to see the torches of the Suryapalian camps burning on the shores of the island. It was as though the air around her smelled of blood and flesh. Mridula was unsure whether she would reach Neelambargarh alive. Mahendra, on the other hand, decided for the ladies of his wing, especially his new wife and concubines, to go back to their native place at the Aghitra Islands till he found safe grounds. He knew the Maharaja of Neelambargarh would teach these animals a lesson if he knew of it. He had already dispatched a message to reach Ishaan Dev, hoping he wasn’t killed on the way.
Trishaan Dev was satisfied with his first success under Maharaja Ravi Varman’s rule. As the soldiers hoisted the flag of Suryapali on the highest pole of the palace, and burnt that of Meendeep down amidst cheers, he immediately sent a message to the Maharaja of Suryapali about the success and informed him that they would capture more arms, soldiers and supplies than they had estimated. He had shown no mercy to the king, and his soldiers took care of his family, something Ishaan Dev would never let them do. Something he stopped once, which caused a ripple effect on everyone’s future. Trishaan Dev cleaned his bloodied sword in the waves of the Chandra Sagar and looked up at the horizon towards Neelambargarh. He was making his way towards his dreams, one step at a time. They were to leave the island immediately with the supplies they captured and keep a general as the administrator, as suggested by Ravi Varman’s plans. If he were to be asked, he would have suggested keeping some troops as well because he knew Ishaan Dev wouldn’t sit idle when he heard of the massacre of his mother’s family. But Trishaan Dev knew it was to his benefit to let Ravi Varman make these mistakes. With Haimanti’s brothers by his side, he prepared to leave for home. But first, he made sure the soldiers from Vairath who had helped him spring the surprise on Meendeep left for their state with adequate rewards to make their king happy.
Maharaja Ishaan Dev rode on Vidyut in relative silence through the dense forestlands of Dhuari, towards the Chandra Sagar. The port lands of Neelambargarh were on high alert, and it was really beyond him how they missed so many Suryapalian boats and ships moving towards Meendeep. He cursed himself under his breath. He should have anticipated it. The soldiers of Neelambargarh marched on with much zeal through the unknown forestlands Ishaan Dev had never travelled through. They made sure they were alert, and Ishaan Dev couldn’t help but observe how different the forest was on either side of the Maya. He remembered his childhood and adolescent days when he would often take a ride through Suryapali’s forestland to the Chandra Sagar and visit his uncles, who received both him and Ravi Varman with similar affection. Were they even alive, or was he too late? Even if he managed to save Meendeep or take over it, what would he do if the royals were dead? How would he face his mother? A sudden fear gripped him as his throat went dry. Would he ever see his mother again? So many thoughts shrouded his mind when suddenly Vidyut seemed aware, and the foot soldiers signalled the entourage to stop.
Everyone’s eyes were alert, and some of them placed their ears to the ground. There was human movement. Ishaan Dev put his fingers around the handle of his sword, ready to attack. Mridula Devi’s shriek rang through the forestland as she closed her eyes, anticipating her last moment, and her son’s sword clashed against another soldier’s.
“Stop!” The familiarity of the commander’s voice made her open her eyes as she spotted the Neelambargarhi flag. She cried out, thanking the Lord, as her body gave in to the overwhelming emotion and sank to the ground.
