Chapter 1The Princess in White
Devashraya rested quietly between the northern mountains, its royal palace rising above a clear river that curved around the valley. Green grass covered the slopes beyond its walls, while deodar trees stood like silent sentinels beneath the snow-covered peaks.
The morning sun had barely reached the palace courtyard when the sound of steel broke the silence.
Clang.
A wooden target split in two.
The young woman standing before it lowered her sword.
White.
That was the first thing anyone noticed about her.
She wore a white garment wrapped in the ancient style of the royal women of the kingdom, its fine folds gathered at her waist beneath a jewelled kamarabandha. Pearls rested against her throat, delicate armlets adorned her arms, and a small star-shaped jewel rested at the centre of her forehead.
Around the jewel was a tiny serpent.
Her long dark hair had been tied back for practice, though several strands had escaped and rested against her face.
She looked at the broken target.
Then at the sword in her hand.
"Again."
The young soldier standing opposite her hesitated.
"Princess—"
"Again."
He raised his wooden sword.
She attacked first.
One strike.
Two.
Three.
The soldier barely managed to block the fourth.
By the sixth, his sword flew from his hand.
It landed several feet away.
Amrisha looked at him.
"You dropped it."
The soldier breathed heavily.
"I noticed."
A few guards nearby tried not to laugh.
Amrisha turned toward them.
"Anyone else?"
Silence.
She smiled.
"Good."
She sheathed her sword.
Only then did she notice the gardener standing at the edge of the courtyard with a troubled expression.
"What?"
The gardener bowed.
"Princess, the plant you ordered us to move yesterday..."
"Yes?"
"It survived."
Amrisha smiled.
"Then it wasn't a weed."
Before the gardener could answer, a familiar voice came from behind her.
"Of course it survived."
Amrisha turned.
Her elder sister stood beneath the stone archway.
Mrinalini.
She wore yellow, her garments arranged with quiet elegance. A palm-leaf manuscript rested in one hand, while the other held a wooden tablet covered with calculations.
She looked at the broken target.
Then at the sword.
Then at Amrisha.
"Father asked you to review the royal accounts."
Amrisha shrugged.
"I was going to."
"When?"
"Eventually."
Mrinalini sighed.
"You've been saying that for three days."
"And yet the accounts haven't disappeared."
"They might if you keep ignoring them."
Amrisha smiled.
"You worry too much."
"And you don't worry enough."
A small voice interrupted them.
"Amrisha!"
They both turned.
A little boy came running through the courtyard, his feet muddy and his hair completely disordered.
Mrinalini closed her eyes.
"Anvay"
The boy stopped.
He looked at his feet.
Then at his sisters.
"I was helping."
"Helping whom?" Amrisha asked.
He pointed toward the gardens.
"The gardener."
Mrinalini looked at the mud covering him.
"By walking through the irrigation channel?"
Anvay nodded proudly.
"It was faster."
Amrisha laughed.
Mrinalini shook her head.
"You need to learn patience."
Anvay frowned.
"Amrisha doesn't."
Amrisha placed a hand on his head.
"Exactly."
Mrinalini gave her a look.
"And that is why Father is going to regret leaving the three of us together."
Before Amrisha could answer, the sound of a conch echoed through the palace.
All three turned toward the main courtyard.
Their father had arrived.
King Rudrasen stood beside the palace gates, already dressed for war.
His armour was worn beneath a dark royal cloak, a sword resting at his waist. The sacred mark of Shiva was visible upon his forehead.
He was speaking quietly with his commander when he noticed his children.
His expression softened.
"Come."
They approached.
Rudrasen looked first at Mrinalini.
Then at Amrisha.
His gaze briefly fell upon the sword at her side.
"You've been practicing again."
Amrisha nodded.
"Yes."
"How many soldiers?"
"Seven."
The commander looked at her in surprise.
Rudrasen simply smiled.
"And how many did you defeat?"
Amrisha glanced toward the courtyard.
"Six."
"Only six?"
"The seventh refused to fight me."
The commander coughed to hide his laughter.
Rudrasen shook his head.
Then his expression became serious.
"I leave for the western border before sunset."
The smile disappeared from the children's faces.
Mrinalini stepped forward.
"What happened?"
"Three villages were attacked last night."
"By whom?"
Rudrasen's eyes moved toward the mountains.
"Rakshasas."
The courtyard fell silent.
"The sages of the western forests have also sent word," he continued. "Their yajñas are being disturbed. My soldiers will leave with me."
Mrinalini looked toward the army gathering beyond the gates.
"How long will you be gone?"
"I don't know."
Rudrasen turned toward his daughters.
"Which is why Devashraya will remain in your hands."
Amrisha's expression changed.
"Both of us?"
"Both."
He looked at Mrinalini.
"You will oversee the council, treasury and relations with neighbouring kingdoms."
Then he looked at Amrisha.
"You will oversee the people, the villages and the royal guard."
Amrisha straightened.
"And if something happens?"
Rudrasen's voice became firm.
"You will face it together."
He looked between his daughters.
"Your strengths are different. Do not allow them to become your weakness."
For once, neither sister argued.
Rudrasen placed his hand upon Anvay's head.
"And you."
Anvay looked up.
"What is my responsibility?"
Rudrasen smiled.
"To stay alive."
Anvay frowned.
"That's not very important."
Amrisha laughed.
"Trust me. With you, it is."
The king smiled.
For a moment, they were simply a family standing together beneath the morning sun.
None of them knew that before Rudrasen returned...
everything they knew about themselves would begin to change.
