Note: This story is my submission for Pride Month. Thanks to Shibani (oye_nakhrewaali) for beta-reading this piece.
The Seer’s Revenge
Prologue
The soft clippity clop of horse’s hooves thundered in the silence of the night. The night guards stirred in wary preparedness, their breast plates gleaming in the moonlight. As the tonga came to a stop in front of the Palace gates, a couple of them marched closer, torches flaming bright.
A woman’s face peeked out of the covered carriage, her dark kohl lined eyes widening in alarm at the sight of the burly guards. She clutched her maroon shawl closer to her face, accepting the helping hand of one of the men.
“What brings you here, yuvti?” growled the other guard. “Are you not aware that the Emperor does not see visitors at this time?”
She bowed her head, long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. “Forgive me, saheb. But you will find that he expects me.”
“Expects you-“
“Madhava.” They turned at the authoritative tone. An imperious looking eunuch stood behind the gates. She held his inscrutable gaze with one of her own. “Let the yuvti in. He awaits.”
Just as she had thought, there was no escaping the Emperor’s sight.
Tamping down a surge of resentment, the woman straightened, dropping her veil of meek servitude. The shawl fell to her shoulders, revealing mahogany locks woven with jasmine. Not even the humble attire of a village woman could tame the grace of her sun-kissed body.
She tossed a purse full of silver to the terrified driver.
“May Narasimha protect you, my Queen.” There was a quiver in his raspy voice.
She spared him an amused glance. Gods did not reign in the abode of the devil.
The gates swung open with a flourish, the well-oiled hinges making no sound in the silent night. The Chief Guard motioned for her to follow, curiosity on his grim visage.
Pulling the shawl over her head, she stepped into the infamous Videha Mahal – Palace of the Formless.
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