The Palace Of Darkness

Prologue

The sun rose from behind the hills ,bringing along with it another day full of exuberance and positivity. Wherever the glimmering rays fell they swiftly eliminated the darkness and lifted the shadow of night .

Amidst all this , the small town of Chamba with  scarce number of houses scattered over the vast expanse of landscape , was still asleep.
It's untouched picturesque beauty rivalled that of the heaven. Many rightly proclaimed Chamba to be a divine place resting in the  embrace of mother nature.

There were no sounds except the occasional whistling of wind , rustling of leaves and babbling of stream nearby the palatial haveli of Rathores, the most powerful clan of the free India.

Peace prevailed everywhere except in the heart of the young girl standing on the large terrace overlooking the sleeping town. She stood in a plain white salwar suit .The colour, an often associated symbol of peace complemented the mountainous surrounding and at the same time remained in stark contrast with the unceasing typhoon in her heart.

She wore no jewellery except a chain of black beads around a diamond pendant that rested against her chest .It's cold touch contributed to her deep agony.

The rays of sun fell on her face making her lower her eyes. Her fair face though glowed in light but still had the dullness from lack of rest . Her hair was  up tied loosely in a bun .Gusts of cold wind were blowing making the trees sway along with them, bespeaking the onset of winter season. Any other being would have cowered away indoor and sat in the house ,seeking the warmth of fire burning in the open hearth but the young flimsy looking girl stood unflinching, holding onto the rail.

 Turning on her feet , she walked towards the painting she had completed last night. Leaning against the edge of small wooden table spattered with paint drops and covered with her brushes and paints , she examined her work.

The painting was of a young man on a black stallion. It was another addition to her failed attempts. She was once again unsatisfied by her efforts to paint the charismatic features of the man who had her heart in his chains. None of her works would even come close to the large picture that hung on her bedroom wall.

Heaving an irritated sigh , she sat on the chair tiredly. Sleep had completely evaded her last night making her once again climb the stairs to the terrace, seeking temporary refuge from the harsh onslaught of her gloomy thoughts. As much as she now resented her own actions of  painting the man who made her vulnerable, she in that instant couldn't restrain the single strong urge that finally made her want to do something.

Hearing the opening of gate , she glanced towards the terrace door to see Karuna standing in a plain salwar suit ,a dupatta on her head and around her chest, holding a tray in her hand . Karuna's wrinkled face showed both accepted defeat and unsettling concern.

"I knew you would be here Meera" she said walking towards her and then making space for the tray , before placing it on the table. The tray as usual had a steaming cup of tea and a newspaper on it. Karuna's features contorted in displeasure on seeing the mess Meera had created and the mess she had become herself.

"Why don't you take care of yourself? Aap hume majboor mat Karen unhe sab batane par." stated Karuna, her voice laced with concern .

"I am fine kaki sa" , Meera stressed nonchalantly, opening up the newspaper and skimming through it while taking small sips of the hot tea.

Karuna knew speaking any further would not yield any better results, so she continued to clean the table quietly. She purposefully avoided looking at the displayed masterpiece on easel, for it was not a new sight .

Meera turned the page of 'The Indian Express' only to have her eyes freeze over the bold headline.

King of Mewar engaged to the princess of Jodhpur.