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XXXIX A Moment This Beautiful

last update Last Updated: 2025-04-25 20:13:22

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
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  • 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

    Last Updated : 2025-04-25
  • 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

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  • 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

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  • The Rule   XLIII The Serpent Hides Well

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  • The Rule   XLIV The Planted Seed

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  • The Rule   XLV The Lost Anklet

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  • The Rule   I

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  • The Rule   II The Beginning

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Latest chapter

  • 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

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