Morning sunlight flooded the royal court, but warmth was absent.
Every minister stood in perfect formation, backs straight, eyes lowered. Discipline had replaced arrogance. Fear hung in the air, unspoken yet heavy. Until yesterday, they had hidden behind the Prime Minister's shadow. Now that shield was gone.
And the king remained.
Whispers had spread through the palace corridors all night.
What would Satya do next?
The silence broke as the gatekeeper's voice echoed through the hall.
"His Majesty, King Satya, enters the royal court."
Satya stepped inside.
There was something different about him today. Not just in posture, but presence. His attire shimmered softly under the morning sun, his expression calm, controlled. The boy-king the ministers once dismissed was nowhere to be seen.
As he walked across the red carpet, no one dared breathe loudly.
He ascended the steps and took his seat upon the throne. Sunlight poured through the high windows, illuminating the hall and casting Satya at its center like a fixed point of authority.
"All of you may stand at attention," Satya said.
They already were.
"I have an announcement to make."
The hall stiffened.
"After the betrayal and attempted assassination by the Prime Minister," Satya continued, "this court cannot function as it once did. Power without accountability rots an empire."
He gestured with his hand.
A servant stepped forward, holding a sealed scroll. Satya took it, unrolled it, and began to read.
"Effective immediately," he said, "several ministers will be relieved of their positions."
Murmurs rippled through the hall.
"Those who abused authority, extorted the people, and aligned themselves with treachery will no longer serve this kingdom."
Names followed.
Some faces went pale. Others stiffened in disbelief.
"These ministers are hereby dismissed from their posts and placed under investigation."
No one protested. Fear had sealed their mouths.
Satya paused, then continued.
"However, governance is not only about removal. It is about rebuilding."
He lifted his gaze.
"Kishore Kumar. Vishnu Dube."
The named ministers froze.
"You have served the people faithfully," Satya said. "You listened when others exploited. From today, you are promoted."
Shock turned into gratitude as they bowed deeply.
"Let it be known," Satya concluded, "loyalty to the empire outweighs loyalty to any individual. Betrayal will be answered. Service will be rewarded."
The court remained silent.
Not out of fear alone.
Out of realization.
The session ended, but its impact did not.
Within hours, word spread across the capital. The people spoke openly for the first time in years. Corrupt officials removed. Honest ministers elevated.
For the first time, hope stirred.
The king was changing.
But not everyone welcomed it.
Shunga stood among the ministers, his face composed, yet his clenched jaw betrayed him. Jealousy burned quietly behind his eyes.
That night.
Inside a secluded wooden house, a man sat at a table, shadows dancing across the walls.
"So," he said calmly, "you survived."
Moonlight fell across his face.
Shunga smiled.
"Removing the Prime Minister clears one obstacle," he muttered. "But the throne still stands in my way."
Elsewhere, on the palace balcony, Satya stood alone beneath the same moon.
Its light touched his face, but his thoughts were dark.
History whispered in his mind.
Shunga.
The general who once ended a Mauryan king.
The man who now controlled the army.
"If I don't move soon," Satya thought, "I won't get another chance."
He clenched his fist.
To rule, he would need more than a crown.
He would need the people.
And time was running out.