Chapter 61: chapter 61

S A N M A Y I The court of Amaravati had never been so full, the grand hall brimming with lords and nobles draped in finery that gleamed under the soft glow of oil lamps. The air was thick with tension, a silent unease rippling through the assembly like a current beneath still water. Whispers flitted from one corner to the next, speculation and doubt weaving a fragile web of intrigue.I stood at the edge of the hall, trying to steady my breathing. My hands were clenched at my sides, hidden beneath the folds of my sari. The weight of the room’s attention had not yet fallen on me, but I could feel its pressure like a storm cloud gathering on the horizon.Ranajay was standing at the dais, tall and resolute, his shoulders squared against the tide of resistance that was sure to come. His gaze swept over the assembled courtiers, each one waiting with bated breath for what he would say. There was a confidence in his stance, a quiet defiance that I had come to admire, though it left me uneasy. He was about to set the court ablaze with his words, and I wondered if either of us was ready for the fire that would follow.He raised a hand, commanding silence with a single gesture. The murmur of voices faded, replaced by the expectant hush of an audience waiting for the moment the world might shift.“My lords and ladies,” he began, his voice steady and measured, “Amaravati has weathered storms that would have broken lesser kingdoms. We have seen division and strife, but we have also seen resilience. It is in that spirit of unity that I stand before you today.”I swallowed hard, my heart pounding as I realized what was coming. He had spoken to me the night before, his words filled with certainty. The time has come, Sanmayi, he had said. We must show them that our love is not a threat but a bridge between two worlds.But no matter how much I tried to prepare myself, nothing could ease the knot of dread that tightened in my chest.Ranajay’s voice rang out again, cutting through the stillness. “I have chosen my path, not as a king bound by duty alone, but as a man guided by his heart. Today, I announce my intention to marry Sanmayi.”The declaration fell like a stone into the still waters of the court. Gasps and whispers erupted, the room breaking into a cacophony of disbelief. Some of the nobles wore expressions of shock, while others whispered furiously to their neighbors, their faces darkening with disapproval. A few exchanged looks of quiet satisfaction, though their number was small.Ranajay held up his hand again, commanding order. “I know this choice will not be easy for some to accept,” he said, his tone firm but calm. “But Sanmayi represents more than her past. She represents the future we must strive for—a future where Amaravati is no longer torn apart by divisions. Together, we will unite this kingdom.”The murmurs grew louder, and then a single voice rose above the rest. It was Lord Dhanvir, an elder statesman known for his adherence to tradition. “Your Majesty,” he said, stepping forward, “with all due respect, this decision is reckless. The lady Sanmayi is a rebel, a symbol of dissent. To marry her is to undermine the very foundation of this court.”A ripple of agreement ran through the assembly, and I felt a wave of heat rise to my cheeks. My jaw tightened, but I forced myself to remain still. I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.Ranajay’s gaze hardened, though his voice remained even. “Lord Dhanvir, Sanmayi fought for what she believed was just, as any of us would have in her position. If we cannot learn to forgive and move forward, then we doom ourselves to a cycle of hatred.”“Forgiveness is one thing,” Dhanvir replied sharply. “But to elevate her to the position of queen? That is another matter entirely. The people will not accept it.”At this, Ranajay stepped forward, his voice rising with conviction. “The people know what Sanmayi has sacrificed for them. She has fought for their freedom, for their dignity. And I would argue that the people understand her value far better than some of you do.”His words sent a shiver through the hall. There was a challenge in his tone, a thinly veiled reminder of the court’s disconnection from the struggles of the common folk. I saw several nobles bristle, their faces darkening with barely concealed resentment.“Your Majesty,” another voice interjected, this one belonging to Lady Vishaka, a noblewoman whose loyalty to Ranajay had always been tenuous. “Even if you believe this union is for the greater good, have you considered what it will mean for the stability of the kingdom? The rebels will see this as a betrayal, and the court will see it as an affront to tradition.”Before Ranajay could respond, I stepped forward, my voice cutting through the clamor like a blade. “And what of love, Lady Vishaka? Does that hold no place in the stability of a kingdom?”The room fell silent as all eyes turned to me. I met their gazes, one by one, refusing to be cowed. My voice was steady, though my heart raced. “I did not seek this union for power or status. I stand here because I believe in what Ranajay and I can achieve together. If you cannot see beyond the shadows of the past, then you will never understand the light we hope to bring.”Ranajay turned to me, his expression softening, and I saw the gratitude in his eyes. He reached for my hand, his grip firm and reassuring as he faced the court once more.“This is not merely a marriage,” he said, his voice resolute. “It is a symbol of what Amaravati can become—a kingdom where unity is more than a word, where love and understanding triumph over hatred and fear.”The room remained silent for a moment, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade. Then, slowly, a single pair of hands began to clap. It was Lord Ratan, one of the younger nobles who had always been more open to change. His applause was joined by another, then another, until a scattered smattering of approval filled the hall.But the resistance was still palpable, the disapproving stares of the older nobles like weights pressing down on us. And yet, as I stood beside Ranajay, his hand in mine, I felt a strange sense of calm. We had taken the first step, and though the path ahead would be treacherous, we would face it together.As the court began to disperse, their murmurs filling the air once more, Ranajay turned to me, his voice low but filled with determination. “No matter what happens, we will see this through.”I nodded, my own resolve hardening. “Together,” I said, the word carrying more weight than any vow.And as we stood there, amidst the swirling currents of politics and tradition, I knew that our love, fragile as it might seem, was stronger than any force that sought to tear it apart. For in the face of doubt and opposition, we had chosen each other—and that choice would be our greatest strength.