The training hall echoed with the sharp sound of steel slicing through air.
Each strike cut clean, fast, precise.
Satya stood at the center, dressed simply in his dhoti, sweat dripping from his forehead onto the stone floor. His grip on the sword was firm, his movements flawless. Yet his mind was nowhere near the blade in his hand.
He was thinking of the knife.
Of how close it had come to his throat.
If the arrow had not struck first, he would have died. Not as a king. Not as a ruler. Just another body in the chaos.
The sword halted mid-air.
Satya exhaled sharply.
"My mind wanders too much," he muttered.
"Your Majesty."
Satya turned.
Shunga stood at the entrance of the hall, helmet under his arm, posture disciplined as always.
"You called for me," Shunga said.
"Yes," Satya replied. He placed the sword back onto its stand and walked toward him. "First, congratulations. The Prime Minister is finally where he belongs."
Shunga bowed slightly. "It was necessary."
Satya studied his face. "Tell me something. How exactly did you capture the attacker?"
For a moment, Shunga said nothing.
Satya already knew part of the answer. The man they had arranged to fake the attack was injured by the arrow. Which meant the real attacker, the archer, had been someone else.
And that meant the Prime Minister truly wanted him dead.
Shunga finally spoke. "My soldiers were positioned closer than they appeared. When chaos broke out, they secured the archer before he could escape."
"And the confession?" Satya asked.
"He resisted at first," Shunga said calmly. "Fear convinces faster than loyalty. He spoke."
Satya clenched his jaw.
So it was true.
The Prime Minister hadn't planned a warning. He had planned an execution.
"Well done," Satya said quietly.
Shunga nodded. Then, after a pause, asked, "Tomorrow's announcement… what will you declare?"
Satya met his eyes. "You'll find out with everyone else."
Shunga smiled faintly and turned to leave.
When he was gone, the hall felt darker.
Satya wiped the sweat from his body with a towel, but his thoughts refused to settle. His mind returned to the court.
To the moment the Prime Minister was dragged away.
And to something else.
Something small. Easy to miss.
When the guards had seized the Prime Minister, Satya had noticed it. Shunga, standing behind him, wearing a smile.
Not relief.
Not victory.
A smile too sharp.
When Satya had turned around, Shunga's expression had changed instantly. Calm. Loyal. Perfect.
Satya slid his sword back into its sheath.
If the arrow hadn't killed me, the knife would have, he thought.
And either way, the blame would still fall on the Prime Minister.
A realization clicked into place.
What if Shunga had never cared who killed him?
What if he only cared that Satya died?
Satya let out a slow breath.
Good, he thought. I never trusted him completely.
A faint smile formed on his lips.
"Tomorrow," Satya whispered to the empty hall, "everyone will be shocked."
Because now, he understood one truth clearly.
His enemies were closer than he had believed.