Chapter 85: chapter 85

R A N A J A Y The tent was colder than the battlefield outside. Despite the waning sunlight that cast long, golden streaks over the camp, a chill settled in my bones as I stepped into the space prepared for the parley. Two chairs and a table separated me from the man I had once idolized—a man who now stood as my greatest adversary.King Jayavikram was already there, his presence as commanding as ever. The years had not dulled his sharp eyes or the rigid line of his mouth, but they had added a weariness to his face. He wore the weight of his crown heavily, though his demeanor betrayed none of it.I inclined my head in acknowledgment, a gesture more of habit than respect. “Father.”“Ranajay.” His tone was curt, but his voice still carried the authority of a monarch. “I see you’ve taken to leading rebellions as comfortably as you once led your cavalry.”“I fight for Amaravati, as I always have,” I replied, sitting across from him. “The difference is that now I fight for its future, not for the ambitions of a king who sees his people as pawns.”He chuckled, low and bitter. “Ah, your future. A future dictated by the whims of a rebel queen who twists the court against me. Tell me, my son, how much of Amaravati’s ruin do you lay at her feet?”The blood pounded in my ears, but I kept my voice steady. “None. The ruin of Amaravati lies squarely on your shoulders. You have allowed Nandini’s schemes to infect this kingdom, sowing division and chaos. Sanmayi has done nothing but fight for its survival, and for the people who suffer under your rule.”Jayavikram leaned back, folding his arms as his eyes narrowed. “So you’ve become her mouthpiece now? Is that what this is? You’ve abandoned your birthright, your duty, to defend a woman who manipulates you with her ideals?”I leaned forward, my hands gripping the edge of the table. “I’ve abandoned nothing. I’ve chosen to uphold what you’ve forgotten: that a king serves his people, not the other way around. Amaravati is not a chessboard for you and Nandini to play your games. It is a kingdom of flesh and blood, of farmers and artisans, of soldiers who fight for a cause greater than power.”His face darkened. “You dare lecture me about power? You, who defy your king, who raise arms against your own blood? This rebellion of yours is treason, Ranajay, plain and simple. And I will see it crushed.”“Treason?” The word burned on my tongue. “The only treason here is your betrayal of everything Amaravati stands for. You’ve turned its throne into a symbol of greed, its court into a den of vipers. You’ve abandoned the people who look to you for justice, for protection. And you call me a traitor?”Jayavikram’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching on the table. For a moment, the veneer of the imperious king cracked, and I saw the man beneath—the man who had once taught me the art of war, the value of strategy. But that man was buried beneath layers of pride and ambition.“You speak of justice and protection,” he said, his voice low and cutting. “Do you think you understand these things better than I? I have ruled this kingdom for decades, faced enemies you cannot imagine. I have made sacrifices you cannot fathom. And you—my own son—dare to judge me?”“I do,” I said, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Because those sacrifices were for your own gain, not for Amaravati. You’ve let your fear of losing power blind you to the truth: that a kingdom is stronger when it is united, not when it is ruled by fear.”For a moment, silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. The air felt heavy with unspoken words, with the weight of years of resentment and disappointment. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, but no less biting.“Sanmayi has poisoned you,” he said. “She has turned you against your family, against your duty. You may believe you fight for Amaravati, but you are nothing more than a pawn in her rebellion.”I rose from my seat, my voice rising with the fury that churned inside me. “Sanmayi has done nothing but open my eyes to the truth. She fights for justice, for equality, for a kingdom that serves its people. If that makes her a rebel, then I stand proudly at her side.”Jayavikram stood as well, his imposing figure looming over the table. “You have chosen your side, then. You would rather betray your bloodline than uphold the crown.”“I uphold what the crown should stand for,” I said, my voice firm. “If you’ve forgotten what that is, then you are no king of mine.”The words hung in the air, sharp and unyielding. Jayavikram’s expression flickered for a moment, as if my words had struck a chord, but the hardness returned quickly.“So be it,” he said. “You have declared yourself my enemy. Do not expect mercy when we meet on the battlefield.”“I expect nothing from you anymore,” I replied, my tone colder than I intended. “But know this, Father: Amaravati will remember who fought for its people and who fought for his throne.”With that, I turned and walked out of the tent, each step feeling heavier than the last. The sunlight outside felt too bright, too warm, for the bitterness that churned in my chest. As I mounted my horse and rode back to our camp, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of what had just transpired.This was no longer just a war for the throne. It was a war for the soul of Amaravati. And the man I had once called my father was now my greatest adversary.