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XXXIII “Where My Soul Finds Rest...”
Last Updated:
2025-04-19 02:46:28
WellmindelysianThe use of Sarangi can feel awkward to many but the sound closest to a grand violin I've heard is of a Sarangi so I could only choose it for the song.
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The Rule XXXIV “You Dream Too Much.”
When the desert’s breath turned colder and the night deepened into its quietest hour, the chill seeped through the stone corridors of the palace. It was the kind of cold that did not bite suddenly, but crept in with grace—like a silk thread woven through the very air, teasing the skin, tickling the bones. Beneath the open terrace, in the warmth of royal shelter, a man lay in slumber—King Samarth, the lion-hearted. Wrapped in a thick woolen blanket and cushioned by ornate rugs, his body was still, yet his brow twitched faintly as a breeze slipped through the arched stone railings. The wind played with the loose tendrils of his dark hair, brushing them over his temple and stirring him from sleep. His eyes opened slowly, not with urgency but with the gentleness of one returning from a dream—and the first image to greet his waking gaze was the quiet figure of Inayat. She lay beside him—not close, but near enough to share the hush of the night. Her back was turned slightly, her slende
Last Updated : 2025-04-21The Rule XXXV Stay The Night
The sun had long slipped behind the sands when the royal chariot came to a halt at Raj’s place. Lanterns hung like fallen stars, suspended from high canopies, bathing the great courtyard in a soft amber glow. Strings of jasmine and marigold garlands framed every arch, while golden bells chimed gently in the wind—welcoming the night and its honoured guests.A carpet of crimson unfurled before Samarth and Inayat as they descended the chariot. Inayat, clad in white and gold, walked with the poise of a queen carved from moonlight. Her skirt swept the floor like a whispered hymn, the golden borders catching the flames of nearby torches and shimmering with every step. Her blouse clung to her, and the heavy-bordered dupatta draped across her chest moved like silk upon still water. Samarth walked beside her in royal ease, his gaze resting upon her like worship. The hall grew quieter at their approach, and for a fleeting second, time forgot to breathe.Whispers stirred—soft, stunned, revere
Last Updated : 2025-04-21The Rule XXXVI Hate Me While You Shiver Beneath Me
It had been several days since the banquet at Raj’s province, a time already beginning to blur in the gentle passage of palace routine.Morning sunlight poured like liquid gold through the lattice windows of Inayat’s chamber, scattering across the tiled floor and dappling the silken rugs beneath her bare feet. The air carried the faintest scent of sandalwood, stirred by the slow, deliberate movements of her attendants.Ridhima stood behind her, brushing her dark, silken hair with languid strokes, the wide-toothed ivory comb gliding through the strands like a boat over still water. Her fingers followed gently after, reveling in the smoothness, the weight, the quiet luxury of tending to someone so graceful.“Your hair flows like a moonless river, My Lady,” she murmured with an absent fondness, her eyes meeting Inayat’s through the mirror, the kind that glints between closeness and reverence.To her sides, other attendants moved in quiet harmony—one arranging delicate gold bangles upon a
Last Updated : 2025-04-22The Rule XXXVII Silk Hiding A Blade
The hour was quiet, lingering between the warmth of the afternoon and the hush of dusk, when an attendant stepped lightly into Inayat's chamber. She bowed with practiced grace and delivered the message with calm reverence, “My lady, His Majesty the King requests your presence in the dining hall tonight.”Inayat, seated near the latticed window, looked up from the scriptures she had been reading. Her fingers gently closed the pages of the holy book, a flicker of surprise lighting her features. Samarth rarely asked to dine with her. It was not expected—she was still but a slave in the eyes of the court, though her bond with him was known by whispers.Yet, without letting surprise linger on her face, she nodded gracefully. “You may go,” she said softly. The attendant bowed once more and withdrew, her bare feet whispering against the marble.Inayat turned her eyes to the delicate stack of books before her, softly bound and worn from use. She touched the spine of one with affection before
Last Updated : 2025-04-23The Rule XXXVIII A Night So Long
The sun dipped low over the training fields, bathing the courtyard in molten gold. Aabroo’s small hands gripped the sword, her breaths heaving, cheeks flushed with the fire of effort and frustration. She lunged once more, her blade clinking softly against Samarth’s sword—a dull ring that spoke of her exhaustion. “Enough!” she gasped, stumbling back and collapsing onto the grass with dramatic flair. “I shall faint, my lord, if you force me to swing this dreadful thing once more!” Samarth lowered his blade, the hint of a smile touching his lips. His hair was bound back, the sleeves of his tunic rolled to his elbows. “Oh? The Lioness of the North yields so easily?” he teased, his voice laced with warmth, though his eyes gleamed with amusement. “I’m so young!” she shot back between gulps of air. “Even the fiercest lioness needs a nap!” He laughed—deep and rare—letting the sword drop to his side. “Very well, braveheart. You are spared. For now.” As Aabroo laid herself across the gras
Last Updated : 2025-04-24The Rule XXXIX A Moment This Beautiful
The marketplace of Tziyonia shimmered with a thousand golden glimmers as lanterns swayed above, casting warm pools of light on sandstone paths. Faint music lingered in the air, a distant melody. Vendors called out in melodic chants, selling figs dipped in honey, clay pots painted in cobalt swirls, and vibrant silks. Smoke rose in tendrils from open-air stalls where meats sizzled and spices filled the air with an intoxicating perfume.Samarth and Inayat emerged from the jewel seller’s shop, her fingers still brushing the pendant resting over her heart. It was carved from the finest Alexandrite, a stone that shifted its hues under different lights—green by day, red by night. Just like the quiet war within her. Samarth had paid the jeweler in gold coins, heavy and old, etched with his crest.Inayat mounted Cyclone, the white stallion, but her gaze lingered on Samarth as he secured his own steed. Thoughts churned within her. The change in him, his softened gaze, the way his words folded
Last Updated : 2025-04-25The Rule XL Let It Learn The Name Of Samarth
The courtyard was embraced by the warmth of late morning. The scent of roses floated through the open corridors, stirred by a passing breeze. Aabroo’s laughter echoed faintly from the other side of the palace gardens, while somewhere in the inner quarters, the distant sound of a tanpura hummed low and steady like a prayer.Ridhima walked slowly, the end of her dupatta dragging gently across the marble tiles as she passed the arched entry to Inayat’s chambers. She had meant to bring a fresh bundle of rose petals for the footed brass bowl placed near the bed. But as she neared the door, she paused.There was a quiet voice—no, two. And one of them did not belong to Inayat.“…you mustn’t forget what you came for. Your softness will undo you.”Ridhima’s brows drew together faintly. The voice was barely more than a breath, cloaked in tension. A woman’s voice—but not Inayat’s. The tone held a sharpness, the kind that glides like a blade.Ridhima moved no closer. Her ears sharpened like the
Last Updated : 2025-04-25The Rule XLI Pride
The evening breeze fluttered the silken drapes of Inayat’s chamber. A faint scent of rosewater lingered in the air, mingling with the mellow gold of the setting sun. She sat by the low marble table, her fingers tracing idle circles on the rim of a silver goblet, waiting.She had arranged the evening carefully—tea steeped with cardamom and cloves, figs and almonds laid out, a lamp lit with jasmine oil, and herself clad in soft ivory silk. A quiet moment. A little peace with him.But the sky had darkened, the tea cooled, and Samarth had not come.When the door finally opened, it wasn’t the quiet creak of a man entering with apology. It was the confident thud of boots and the rustle of a heavy cloak — the sound of a king who did not know he was late.“Inayat,” he said casually, his voice low and assured. “I had to meet with the merchants from Althar — they are proposing to lend two ships toward—”“The tea is cold,” she said, not looking at him.Samarth paused. He studied her — the way sh
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The Rule XLV The Lost Anklet
The night had laid its heavy cloak upon the palace, and the moon floated like a solemn sentinel in the velvet sky, its pale light spilling across the marble corridors. Samarth walked alone, his robe whispering against the polished floor, his hand trailing lightly over the cool stone of the columns as he passed beneath them. Above, the stars shimmered like ancient witnesses to the turmoil brooding in his heart.He gazed heavenward, his steps slow and measured, the weight of kingship pressing heavily upon his shoulders.“What is this plague that stirs in the heart of my kingdom, O God?” he spoke into the silence, his voice low, yet thrumming with restrained anguish. “One night was enough to throw order into chaos. I sense the serpent has entered with a lifted brow, sure of its strike. I am not blind, nor am I unaware of its design — to bleed this kingdom, to strike me down. And yet... who is it?”He paused beneath a great arch, the moonlight pouring around him like a silver river.“Cou
The Rule XLIV The Planted Seed
The night was a tapestry of stars, scattered across the velvety sky like shimmering pearls on black silk. The wind whispered through the palace courtyard, carrying with it the cool breath of the desert that melted against the warmth of the stone walls.Inayat sat beneath the open sky, her shawl wrapped snugly around her shoulders, her gaze fixed on the stars. She had become familiar with their constancy, their quiet brilliance in the vast, uncertain night. There was a peace in the heavens that escaped her own world, one filled with turmoil, choices, and a future uncertain. The stars, though, they always remained — timeless, patient, and steady.It was during this moment of serene contemplation that she heard the soft creak of the door, followed by the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps. She didn’t need to turn her head to know it was him.Samarth’s presence was as familiar to her as her own breath, and yet, tonight, there was a stillness about him that unsettled her. He approached h
The Rule XLIII The Serpent Hides Well
The morning sun rose pale and weary over the kingdom, as if even the heavens sensed the unrest brewing within the palace walls. The great court of King Samarth was summoned early, its gilded doors thrown open to a gathering of trusted men — advisors, royal architects, the taskmaster, scribes, war strategists, shipwrights, and lords of the high council.A heavy, expectant silence weighed over them all.Samarth entered, clad in a dark, rich robe, a gold sash crossing his broad chest. His presence silenced every whisper instantly, for it was not merely the title of King that commanded such awe — it was the storm burning in his eyes, the gravity of his being.He seated himself on the high throne, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.“Speak,” he commanded, his voice deep, steady, filling the hall.One of the elder advisors, his hands trembling slightly with age, stepped forward.“My lord… troubling news. The fleet dispatched for Velendor… has been lost to the ocean.”A murmu
The Rule XLII Lead Me Home
The night was heavy with silence, save for the distant howl of desert winds against the stone of the palace. Moonlight pooled like silver on the marble floors, casting soft, rippling reflections against the walls.Inayat sat by the low burning lamp, her slender fingers threading idly through the fabric of her shawl. Two nights had passed since that storm of fury between her and Samarth, yet the sting of his anger still burned somewhere inside her, tender and raw.And then — footsteps. Slow, deliberate, certain.Her heart seized without permission. She didn’t have to look up to know it was him. The scent of sandalwood and earth that clung to him drifted toward her, a herald of his arrival.Samarth entered, dressed not in the royal armor or heavy robes she was accustomed to seeing him in, but in a simple white kurta and a dhoti, the fabric clinging lightly to the hard lines of his body.He looked utterly, ruinously beautiful — masculine strength carved into mortal form, yet dangerous, l
The Rule XLI Pride
The evening breeze fluttered the silken drapes of Inayat’s chamber. A faint scent of rosewater lingered in the air, mingling with the mellow gold of the setting sun. She sat by the low marble table, her fingers tracing idle circles on the rim of a silver goblet, waiting.She had arranged the evening carefully—tea steeped with cardamom and cloves, figs and almonds laid out, a lamp lit with jasmine oil, and herself clad in soft ivory silk. A quiet moment. A little peace with him.But the sky had darkened, the tea cooled, and Samarth had not come.When the door finally opened, it wasn’t the quiet creak of a man entering with apology. It was the confident thud of boots and the rustle of a heavy cloak — the sound of a king who did not know he was late.“Inayat,” he said casually, his voice low and assured. “I had to meet with the merchants from Althar — they are proposing to lend two ships toward—”“The tea is cold,” she said, not looking at him.Samarth paused. He studied her — the way sh
The Rule XL Let It Learn The Name Of Samarth
The courtyard was embraced by the warmth of late morning. The scent of roses floated through the open corridors, stirred by a passing breeze. Aabroo’s laughter echoed faintly from the other side of the palace gardens, while somewhere in the inner quarters, the distant sound of a tanpura hummed low and steady like a prayer.Ridhima walked slowly, the end of her dupatta dragging gently across the marble tiles as she passed the arched entry to Inayat’s chambers. She had meant to bring a fresh bundle of rose petals for the footed brass bowl placed near the bed. But as she neared the door, she paused.There was a quiet voice—no, two. And one of them did not belong to Inayat.“…you mustn’t forget what you came for. Your softness will undo you.”Ridhima’s brows drew together faintly. The voice was barely more than a breath, cloaked in tension. A woman’s voice—but not Inayat’s. The tone held a sharpness, the kind that glides like a blade.Ridhima moved no closer. Her ears sharpened like the
The Rule XXXIX A Moment This Beautiful
The marketplace of Tziyonia shimmered with a thousand golden glimmers as lanterns swayed above, casting warm pools of light on sandstone paths. Faint music lingered in the air, a distant melody. Vendors called out in melodic chants, selling figs dipped in honey, clay pots painted in cobalt swirls, and vibrant silks. Smoke rose in tendrils from open-air stalls where meats sizzled and spices filled the air with an intoxicating perfume.Samarth and Inayat emerged from the jewel seller’s shop, her fingers still brushing the pendant resting over her heart. It was carved from the finest Alexandrite, a stone that shifted its hues under different lights—green by day, red by night. Just like the quiet war within her. Samarth had paid the jeweler in gold coins, heavy and old, etched with his crest.Inayat mounted Cyclone, the white stallion, but her gaze lingered on Samarth as he secured his own steed. Thoughts churned within her. The change in him, his softened gaze, the way his words folded
The Rule XXXVIII A Night So Long
The sun dipped low over the training fields, bathing the courtyard in molten gold. Aabroo’s small hands gripped the sword, her breaths heaving, cheeks flushed with the fire of effort and frustration. She lunged once more, her blade clinking softly against Samarth’s sword—a dull ring that spoke of her exhaustion. “Enough!” she gasped, stumbling back and collapsing onto the grass with dramatic flair. “I shall faint, my lord, if you force me to swing this dreadful thing once more!” Samarth lowered his blade, the hint of a smile touching his lips. His hair was bound back, the sleeves of his tunic rolled to his elbows. “Oh? The Lioness of the North yields so easily?” he teased, his voice laced with warmth, though his eyes gleamed with amusement. “I’m so young!” she shot back between gulps of air. “Even the fiercest lioness needs a nap!” He laughed—deep and rare—letting the sword drop to his side. “Very well, braveheart. You are spared. For now.” As Aabroo laid herself across the gras
The Rule XXXVII Silk Hiding A Blade
The hour was quiet, lingering between the warmth of the afternoon and the hush of dusk, when an attendant stepped lightly into Inayat's chamber. She bowed with practiced grace and delivered the message with calm reverence, “My lady, His Majesty the King requests your presence in the dining hall tonight.”Inayat, seated near the latticed window, looked up from the scriptures she had been reading. Her fingers gently closed the pages of the holy book, a flicker of surprise lighting her features. Samarth rarely asked to dine with her. It was not expected—she was still but a slave in the eyes of the court, though her bond with him was known by whispers.Yet, without letting surprise linger on her face, she nodded gracefully. “You may go,” she said softly. The attendant bowed once more and withdrew, her bare feet whispering against the marble.Inayat turned her eyes to the delicate stack of books before her, softly bound and worn from use. She touched the spine of one with affection before
