Chapter 63: chapter 63

S A N M A Y I The palace gardens were quiet, the hum of preparations silenced in the deep blue of the twilight hour. I had sought the solitude of this place, away from the chatter of courtiers and the glances—both approving and venomous—that followed my every move. The marble bench beneath me was cool to the touch, grounding in its stillness, though my mind was anything but.For weeks now, Amaravati had been a cauldron of activity. The wedding of the century, they called it—a union meant to heal the fractures of a kingdom. Yet the closer we came to that momentous day, the more I felt the weight of expectations press down upon me, suffocating in their enormity. And then there was Nandini.It had started with her honeyed words, the soft curve of her lips as she spoke with the courtesy of a courtier and the precision of an archer. “Sanmayi,” she had said earlier that afternoon, her voice low and conspiratorial. “You must know how fortunate you are. A rebel queen, ascending to Amaravati’s throne? It is the kind of tale poets invent, not one that unfolds in reality.”I had smiled then, wary but polite. “The people love tales of redemption.”“True,” she replied, her gaze lingering on me like a hunter measuring prey. “But redemption is not the same as acceptance. The nobles, the court—they will bow to you out of duty, yes. But love? Respect? That is a different matter entirely.”Her words burrowed into my thoughts like thorns. She spoke with such sincerity, as though delivering a truth I needed to hear. Her departure left a silence louder than the words themselves, and all through the evening, her voice echoed in my mind.---Now, seated in the garden, I turned her words over and over, each iteration cutting deeper. Could I truly rule as queen? My past was a tangle of rebellion and bloodshed. Every step I had taken to build a new life seemed to bring with it the ghosts of the old.“Sanmayi.” Ranajay’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. He stood at the garden’s edge, his silhouette outlined by the flicker of lantern light. His face softened as he approached, his concern etched in the furrow of his brow. “You’ve been quiet all evening.”“I needed some air,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm within me. But I should have known better than to try and hide from him. Ranajay had a way of seeing through the masks I wore, peeling back the layers to uncover truths even I hesitated to face.He took a seat beside me, the warmth of his presence a balm against the chill in my chest. “What troubles you?”I hesitated, unsure if I could voice the doubts swirling in my mind. But his patience, his unwavering focus, made it impossible to stay silent. “Do you think…” I began, my words faltering. “Do you think I deserve this? To stand beside you, to be queen?”His expression shifted, surprise giving way to something deeper—an ache, perhaps, or a hurt he hadn’t expected. “Why would you ask such a thing?”“Nandini,” I admitted, the name bitter on my tongue. “She spoke to me today, about how the court sees me. About how they’ll never accept me for what I am.”Ranajay’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Nandini’s poison does not define you, Sanmayi. She is desperate, grasping for ways to undermine you because she knows your strength threatens her.”“But what if she’s right?” The words spilled from me, unbidden and raw. “I have rebelled, fought against this very kingdom. My hands are stained with the blood of its soldiers. How can I claim to lead its people, to earn their respect, when I have been their enemy?”Ranajay turned to face me fully, his dark eyes fierce and unyielding. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice steady but firm. “You are not defined by your past. Every decision you made, every battle you fought, was for the people you sought to protect. That is what makes you worthy, Sanmayi. Not your lineage, not the court’s approval, but your heart.”I looked away, unwilling to meet his gaze. “It’s easy for you to say. You’ve always belonged here. You’ve never had to fight for the right to exist.”“You think I’ve never fought?” His tone was sharp, cutting through my doubt. “Sanmayi, every day I fight—to prove that I am not my father, to show the court that I am more than the sum of his failures. They do not follow me because they love me. They follow me because I refuse to let them see me falter.”His words hung in the air between us, heavy with truth. Slowly, he reached for my hands, his touch gentle but insistent. “We are both fighting battles, my love. Yours may look different, but they are no less valid. And you are not alone. You have me, and together, we can weather whatever storms come our way.”I met his gaze then, the intensity of his conviction pulling me from the depths of my doubt. “Do you truly believe that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.“With everything I am,” he replied, without hesitation. “You are not a burden to me, Sanmayi. You are my equal, my partner, and the only person I trust to stand beside me in this life.”---The stars seemed brighter that night, their light piercing through the canopy of clouds that had shadowed my heart. Ranajay’s words lingered in my mind, their weight gradually replacing the poison Nandini had sown. He saw me not as the rebel or the queen, but simply as the woman he loved. And perhaps that was enough.As we left the garden hand in hand, I felt the beginnings of something unfamiliar but welcome—a fragile sense of hope. The road ahead would not be easy, but with Ranajay by my side, I knew I could face it. For the first time in weeks, I allowed myself to believe that our love might just be enough to bridge the chasm of doubt that lay between me and the crown.And as I glanced back toward the garden, I made a silent vow: to rise above the whispers, the thorns, and the shadows. To prove to myself—and to all of Amaravati—that I was worthy of the love we had built together.