Resurgence of Kohl

45. Extravaganza of Sins

The night of celebration was here. I stood in the royal hall, amidst the various guests, occasionally smiling at a few. I was decked in a red silk lehenga embroidered by threads of gold, forming patterns of swans. Carrying my usual royal ornaments, I walked in the halls, mingling with all the guests, making my mind seem joyous but it was still reminiscing the story Nyrvig delivered me the other day.

After saying his words, Nyrvig was blank. His eyes were red and glinted with tears that were willing to cascade down any moment. I stared at him, my skin pale and my eyes wide. This information was too much for me. 'Sakhya Pradesh originally belonged to Late Queen Niriksha,  Nyrvig's mother.' 

My lips parted, but no voice came out from them. My mind tangled all the information and I sat down at a nearby seat, my body light and limp. My eyes were heavy and a few drops of tears slithered down my face, touching my lips in the process, making me feel the saltness in them.

I again glanced at Nyrvig, his body taut and rigid, but his lips wobbling, haunting memories resurfacing in his mind. There was silence in the room, the air heavy and thick. I gathered the strength to walk toward him, my legs shaking and steps faltering. I kept my hands on his shoulder, bringing him back out of his trance. He gazed into my eyes, letting me see the years of pain inside them. My heart clenched, knowing that he suffered a lot.

He turned around, hiding his face from me, while he left me thinking again. His voice soon resounded in the chambers, making a devious glint cloud my eyes.

"How do you plan to kill him?"

My lips tilted upward, my eyes shining. When he turned around, his face held confusion, perhaps seeing my smiling face. He walked closer to me, uncertainty masking his face when his voice travelled the distance between his lips and my ears.

"Your smile has specks of deviousness in them Vijaya."

"I would need your help, Arya. I have heard you have a good relationship with the men of the security council," I bemused.

A laugh escaped my lips hearing his statement, his stance back to his usual self. Together we glanced at the unconscious body lying in the corner of the room, bound by chains and after looking at him, a smile decorated both of our faces.

'Surendra has lived long enough. Now it is time for him to go into the deep slumber.'

"Attention! The mighty King Surendra is entering the hall."

The announcement of the herald made all the chatter die down and we all turned our gazes toward the door,  from which appeared the man who was soon to be sacrificed in the sacred fire of Nyrvig's coronation. 

Kings, ministers, dignitaries and royal guests, all surrounded him, merrily wishing him, trying to gain his favour.  He walked toward the throne, Durgamati appearing by his side. I along with Nyrvig approached him, wishing him on his birthday which would soon turn into his last one. 

He reached the throne and turned toward the hall addressing it. My mind skipped most of the part, briefly concentrating on the part when he announced the marriage of Bhrata Aadhirai and Yashodhara. When he moved back to sit on the throne, an arrow hit him in the neck, followed by another which hit him straight at the skull. 

Blood splashed over the throne, and gasps filled the hall. Nyrvig rushed toward the king, his limp body touching the ground, his back touching the throne, painting it red. There was a sudden commotion in the hall, guards running in the hall, making sure that none moved from their places.

All went according to the plan, Nyrvig left a corridor in the security for the assassin to attack and lured him to rush into the women's alley, planning his escape when I retrieved my dagger and slashed his throat. His lifeless body thumped near my feet, which was soon followed by the announcement of Nyrvig,

 "The king is dead!"

His face was masked with pure worry, and his eyes glinting. Surprise flashed over all the faces when I noticed Durgamati fall to the ground. I could hear the sobs of all his wives and concubines but my world seemed to have stopped. I walked toward Nyrvig, handing over the now dead assassin to a few guards that stood nearby.

Fake tears brimmed my eyes while I took the hands of the Nyrvig. The guests departed from there, giving the royal family privacy. Skanda cried hugging his mother, a child he was when he lost his father while Yashodhara stood near me, a few tears streaming down her eyes, yet her face seemed to be unbothered making me frown.

'Seems that two of the king's children had cold relations with him.'

I shrugged the thought and glanced at the lifeless body of Maharaj Surendra and then at the crown that fell from his head and landed at the throne, at its original place.

 Nyrvig, Yashodhara and I were soon summoned, to prepare for the ceremony of last rites for the king. The whole market was closed, and people mourning the loss of their king. The glamour and decoration of the palace were removed and dullness subsided everything. 

Decked in a cream-coloured Saree, I stood along with the ladies, all dressed in white, mourning over the loss of the monarch. Chanchala was supporting me all the while, her face masking with apathy as she knew what happened behind the scenes.

With the first rays of dawn, the end of King Surendra's reign was announced. It was time for a new king, a new era.

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Bhrata- Brother

Arya- A way to address husband

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The king is dead!

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