The morning sun climbed over the mountains, spilling golden light across the stone rooftops of Bainath.
The Katyuri capital was already awake. Merchants opened their shops beneath wooden balconies, craftsmen arranged their wares along narrow streets, and servants hurried between noble residences carrying baskets, vessels, and folded garments. The distant sound of temple bells mingled with the voices of people beginning another day.
Beyond the city, the mountains stood like silent guardians, their peaks still touched by the chill of the morning.
At the northern gates, a lone traveller approached.
Her horse carried the dust of a long journey. The hem of her clothes bore the marks of the road, and fatigue lingered in her limbs. Yet the young woman sitting in the saddle held her back straight, her chin raised and her eyes fixed upon the magnificent gates ahead.
She did not look uncertain.
She did not look intimidated.
She looked as though the mountains themselves had merely delayed her arrival.
Rajula had finally reached Bainath.
Rajula (thinking) : "So this is the Katyuri capital."
She surveyed the fortified entrance, the guards standing atop the walls, and the steady stream of traders passing beneath the carved wooden archway. Beyond it lay a city she had never visited, filled with strangers who knew nothing of the journey she had endured.
Somewhere within those walls was the man she had come to find.
Malushahi.
The name brought a small, determined smile to her face.
Rajula (thinking) : "I have travelled all this way. I am not turning back without finding you."
Her journey had not been easy. The roads through the mountains demanded patience, the weather offered little kindness, and travelling alone meant that every difficult decision rested upon her shoulders. There had been moments when exhaustion had tempted her to stop and moments when the distance ahead seemed almost unreasonable.
Yet she had continued.
Not because the road had been kind to her, but because turning back would have meant surrendering the choice she had made for herself.
Rajula drew a steady breath and guided her horse towards the gate.
A Katyuri guard stepped forward to inspect the approaching traveller. His eyes moved across her dusty clothes before settling upon her face.
Guard : "State your business in Bainath."
Rajula met his gaze without hesitation.
Rajula : "I have come to meet King Malushahi."
The guard's expression changed slightly.
Guard : "His Majesty is occupied with the affairs of the kingdom. An audience must be requested through the proper channels."
Rajula : "Then kindly tell me where I must make that request."
Her voice was calm. She neither demanded special treatment nor lowered her eyes in uncertainty.
The guard studied her for another moment. A young woman arriving alone after a long journey was unusual enough to invite questions, but he had no reason to prevent her from entering the city.
Guard : "The royal household can direct you. Proceed into Bainath and ask the palace officials where petitions for an audience are received."
Rajula inclined her head.
Rajula : "Thank you."
She passed beneath the stone archway.
For a moment, she slowed her horse and looked down the busy street beyond the gates. The scent of freshly baked bread drifted from a nearby shop. A merchant called out the price of his goods, while two children raced past a cart before being scolded by its owner.
Life continued here as though the rest of the world did not exist.
Rajula (thinking) : "You would never guess how much trouble one king can cause from looking at an ordinary city."
A faint smile touched her lips.
Rajula (thinking) : "Well, Malushahi. I have found your kingdom. Let us see how difficult it is to find you."
She urged her horse forward, entering Bainath with the confidence of someone who had already overcome the hardest part of her journey.
And somewhere within the royal residence, the young king she sought was looking in an entirely different direction.
The Young King of Bainath
Inside the Katyuri palace, a long corridor overlooked the inner gardens and the city beyond the palace walls. Carved pillars supported the roof, their surfaces decorated with mountain flowers, curling vines, and patterns passed down through generations of Katyuri craftsmen.
King Malushahi stood near the open side of the corridor.
He wore the composed expression expected of a ruler receiving foreign dignitaries. His posture was straight, his hands rested calmly behind his back, and a faint smile remained upon his face.
Yet his attention was not on the men standing before him.
His eyes had drifted beyond the palace gardens, towards the city gates.
For a brief moment, his expression seemed almost distant.
Then one of the Pratihara ministers cleared his throat.
Senior Minister One : "Your Majesty, I must say that your hospitality has exceeded our expectations."
Senior Minister Two : "Indeed! The guest quarters are excellent, the food plentiful, and the arrangements most generous. Your kingdom has certainly made the right impression upon us."
Senior Minister One : "Naturally, our own arrival has also brought great distinction to this visit. A delegation of our stature is not something every kingdom has the honour of receiving."
Senior Minister Two : "Precisely! And the way our people were welcomed—"
Tara stood a little behind them, listening with the polite expression of someone who had already heard enough.
Tara (thinking) : "They have praised the guest rooms, the food, the arrangements, and themselves. At this rate, they will soon congratulate the Katyuri kingdom for having the good fortune of hosting them."
She discreetly studied their host.
Malushahi was young.
Very young.
Tara had expected a king ruling a mountain kingdom to possess the weathered appearance of someone who had spent decades negotiating with nobles, managing border disputes, and keeping ambitious relatives from becoming inconvenient.
Instead, Malushahi looked younger than many of the senior officials Tara had met at the Pratihara court. He was certainly younger than Chandraveer, though by how much she could not confidently judge.
But there was something about his stillness that made his youth less obvious.
He did not fidget. He did not interrupt merely to demonstrate authority. Even when the ministers praised themselves, he allowed them to speak with a patience that felt deliberate rather than weak.
His faint smile never quite disappeared.
Tara (thinking) : "A young king. Quiet, too. Either he has extraordinary patience, or he has already decided that listening to these two is the price of diplomacy."
Senior Minister One : "And I must say, Your Majesty, our journey has demonstrated the strength and determination of the Pratihara administration. We managed the difficult circumstances with remarkable efficiency—"
Tara's eyes narrowed a fraction.
Tara (thinking) : "Remarkable efficiency? If the Emperor ever reads my report, I hope he never meets this man."
Malushahi's gaze remained directed towards the city.
The wind moved lightly through the corridor, stirring the edges of his royal garments. Below, people crossed the streets, unaware that their king was watching them from above.
He appeared to be waiting for something.
Or someone.
Tara followed his line of sight, but from the corridor she could see little beyond the rooftops and the distant approach to the city gates.
She wondered whether a messenger had been expected.
Perhaps some urgent matter had arisen.
Perhaps the king was simply tired of hearing the two ministers speak.
That last possibility, Tara decided, was the most understandable.
Senior Minister Two : "Your Majesty, I trust you will agree that our presence here will strengthen relations between our kingdoms for many years to come."
Malushahi blinked.
The distant look vanished from his eyes.
He turned towards them, his faint smile returning to its proper place.
Malushahi : "I am pleased that our arrangements have met your expectations."
His voice was calm and measured. He did not raise it, yet the two ministers stopped speaking.
Malushahi : "However, time is passing. The court is assembled, and our officials are waiting. Let us proceed."
Senior Minister One : "Of course, Your Majesty. We would not wish to delay the court."
Senior Minister Two : "Indeed. We are most eager to meet your nobles."
Malushahi : "Then you shall have that pleasure."
He turned and began walking towards the royal court.
The ministers followed immediately.
Tara fell into step behind them, glancing once more towards the city.
Tara (thinking) : "He was watching the gates. I wonder what he expected to see."
She let the thought pass.
They had travelled through a battle, crossed dangerous roads, and finally reached the capital. There were more pressing matters than trying to decipher the private concerns of another kingdom's king.
At least, that was what she told herself.
The Royal Court
The Katyuri court was a magnificent hall, though its splendour differed from the great ceremonial spaces of Kannauj.
Carved wooden pillars rose beneath a high roof. Banners bearing the symbols of Katyuri authority hung between them, while sunlight filtered through latticed openings and fell in long patterns across the polished floor. Nobles, officers, scholars, and royal officials stood in their designated places, their conversations gradually fading as the royal entrance opened.
A herald struck the floor with his staff.
Herald : "His Majesty, King Malushahi of the Katyuri kingdom!"
The court rose as one.
Malushahi entered with measured steps. He acknowledged the gathered nobles with a slight inclination of his head before proceeding towards his throne.
He did not hurry. He did not make a show of his authority.
He simply took his place, and the hall settled around him.
Malushahi : "May the kingdom prosper, may our people remain secure, and may today's deliberations bring wisdom to those entrusted with responsibility."
Court Officials : "May the kingdom prosper!"
Only after the formal welcome had concluded did Malushahi look towards the side entrance.
Malushahi : "Today, we welcome three ministers of the Pratihara Empire. They arrived in Bainath with yesterday's delegation and have travelled a considerable distance to represent their sovereign."
The herald lifted his staff again.
Herald : "The honoured ministers of the Pratihara Empire!"
Trumpets sounded.
The side doors opened.
Tara entered alongside the two senior ministers. She kept her expression composed as the sound of the trumpets filled the hall. The court was larger than she had expected, and the number of eyes turning towards them made it impossible to forget that they were guests in another kingdom's seat of power.
Tara (thinking) : "All right. Walk steadily. Bow properly. Do not trip in front of an entire court. It would be an unfortunate way to become memorable."
The two ministers, however, appeared thoroughly delighted by the occasion.
Senior Minister One (thinking) : "Now this is a proper welcome."
Senior Minister Two (thinking) : "The trumpets are a good touch. I shall have to remember that for our own receptions."
They approached the designated seating area near the king's throne, positioned slightly to the side and forward enough to provide a clear view of the proceedings. It was a place of honour for distinguished visitors—close enough to the ruler to demonstrate respect, yet separate from the positions reserved for the kingdom's own nobles.
The three ministers bowed.
Tara : "Your Majesty, we are grateful for the warm welcome extended to our delegation. We bring the respect and goodwill of the Pratihara court."
Malushahi returned the greeting with a slight inclination of his head.
Malushahi : "You are honoured guests in Bainath. May your stay be comfortable, and may the friendship between our kingdoms grow through mutual understanding."
His words were courteous, his tone even.
Tara looked up.
For the briefest instant, their eyes met.
Malushahi's expression remained composed, that faint smile resting upon his face. Tara could not tell whether he was studying her, acknowledging her greeting, or simply observing the delegation as a whole.
Then his attention shifted towards the court.
A herald announced the beginning of the welcome ceremony.
Trumpets sounded once more, followed by the soft rhythm of ceremonial drums. Attendants approached carrying garlands of mountain flowers, their colours bright against the woven fabrics of their clothing.
The first noble stepped before the Pratihara ministers and bowed.
Noble One : "May the honoured guests find friendship and good fortune in Bainath."
He placed a flower garland around the first minister's neck.
Senior Minister One : "Your generosity honours us."
Another noble came forward.
Then another.
And another.
Each offered a greeting, placed a garland around one of the visitors, and stepped aside for the next person.
At first, Tara accepted the ceremony with genuine appreciation. The flowers were beautiful, their fragrance carrying hints of wild herbs and blossoms unfamiliar to her. Some were delicate and pale; others were vivid, deep-coloured flowers woven together with leaves and fine threads.
Then the second garland settled around her shoulders.
And the third.
And the fourth.
Tara kept smiling.
Tara (thinking) : "This is lovely. Very welcoming. Extremely welcoming."
A fifth garland was placed around her neck.
Tara (thinking) : "At what point does a welcome ceremony become a test of how much weight a minister can carry without collapsing?"
Beside her, Senior Minister Two was receiving garlands with the expression of a man who believed the entire ceremony had been designed to confirm his importance.
Senior Minister Two : "Such remarkable hospitality! Your nobles are most generous."
Senior Minister One : "Indeed! The Pratihara court will hear of this warm reception."
Tara turned her head slightly towards them.
Tara (thinking) : "If you praise them any more, they may bring another basket."
As if the thought had summoned it, an attendant approached with another bundle of flowers.
Tara stared at the garlands in his hands.
Tara (thinking) : "No. Surely not."
The attendant bowed and added another to the growing collection around her shoulders.
Tara's smile tightened by the smallest possible degree.
Tara (thinking) : "I take it back. This is a test."
The ceremony continued until the three ministers were practically buried beneath layers of flowers. Garlands rested across their shoulders and chests, some overlapping, others slipping down their arms. A few petals had already fallen onto the floor around their seats.
The senior ministers looked pleased.
Tara, who could barely move her shoulders without disturbing a small avalanche of blossoms, was beginning to reconsider every compliment she had ever heard about Katyuri hospitality.
Still, she did not complain. Their hosts had offered the welcome sincerely, and she would not insult them over a little discomfort.
Besides, she had survived a dangerous road, a burning route, and a battle involving enough arrows to make the sky look unpleasant.
She could survive flowers.
Probably.
At last, the final noble stepped away.
The court applauded politely, and the musicians brought the ceremony to a close. Attendants moved forward to help the ministers settle their garlands so that they could sit comfortably.
Tara lowered herself carefully into her seat.
One flower slipped from her shoulder and landed in her lap.
She looked down at it.
Tara (thinking) : "I have travelled all the way to Bainath to conduct diplomacy. Somehow, I have become a walking flower arrangement."
Across the hall, Malushahi watched the guests settle into their seats.
His expression remained calm, his posture disciplined. If he found the spectacle amusing, he gave no sign of it.
But for a moment, his gaze drifted again towards the open side of the court, where sunlight poured in from the direction of the city.
Tara noticed.
Again.
She leaned back slightly, careful not to crush the garlands.
Tara (thinking) : "There it is again. His attention is somewhere else."
The king turned back towards the assembly before she could determine what had caught his interest.
Malushahi : "Let us begin."
The court grew quiet.
The ministers of Kannauj had been welcomed with honour. The king of Bainath sat before them, composed and unreadable. The nobles waited for the day's proceedings to begin.
And beyond the palace walls, Rajula was making her way through the streets of the capital, alone, determined to find the very man now seated before Tara.
Neither had met the other yet.
One had come to the court as an honoured guest.
The other had crossed the mountains by herself, refusing to let distance or uncertainty decide her future.
And King Malushahi, who had spent the morning looking towards Bainath's gates, was about to discover whether the thing he had been waiting for had finally arrived.