RAJA CHANDER!
He despised the nobles' influence. He openly opposed their voting system.
Plus in Dannyal's dream,he was absent.
But was hatred and dream alone enough to mark him as a killer?
I couldn't be sure.
I had to investigate.
But who would help me?
Birbal.
I rushed to him and laid out my suspicions. He listened without interruption. When I finished, he nodded slowly.
"I feel the same,"he said.
That night, we planned to search Raja Chander's chamber during his daily walk in the garden.
If we failed tonight,Amara would be hanged at dawn.
The palace slept beneath a pale, frozen moon. The marble floors were icy under our bare feet as we moved like shadows through the corridors.
Then—
I ruined everything.
My elbow struck a flower vase.
It tipped. Rolled.
And fell.
Crash.
The sound echoed through the courtyard like a death sentence.
Footsteps. Armors clinked. Two soldiers turned toward us.
Before panic could claim me, Birbal calmly pulled out a book—as if it had always been there—and began reading aloud.
One soldier approached.
"Gaining knowledge even at night, Sahebs?"
Birbal tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"Is there a time forbidden for learning?"he replied. "Besides, on such a beautiful night, who wouldn't enjoy a little poetry?"
The soldier hesitated… then smiled.
"Of course, my lord."
He turned away.
I exhaled for the first time in seconds.
We reached Raja Chander's chamber.
Two guards stood watch.
Birbal said casually, "Someone nearly dropped a vase on my head. Go check the courtyard."
The soldiers stiffened.
"But, my lo—"
"You threw it?"
"No, lord."
"Then find who did."
A pause.
Then obedience.
As they left, a thought struck me hard—
What kind of psychological manipulation was that?
Sudden footsteps.
Adrian came rushing toward us, breath uneven, eyes wild.
"Do you know where he went?"
Birbal and I asked together,
"Who?"
"Man Singh,"Adrian said. "He just disappeared."
Birbal's eyes met mine.
"The garden?",
We ran.
The moon revealed him first.
Man Singh lay crumpled in a dark corner of the garden, eyes lifeless, body still.
Dead.
The silence felt heavier than sound.
It was clear now.
Raja Chander was the killer.
Only an advisor could bypass security. Only one of them could kill another and vanish unnoticed.
"Proof," Birbal whispered urgently.
We rushed back to Raja Chander's chamber.
Nothing.
Empty.
Clean.
Too clean.
"He knew,"Birbal muttered. "He distracted us with Man Singh and hid the poison."
His jaw tightened.
"If only we had searched before going to the garden."
Footsteps echoed behind us.
Raja Chander returned, a faint smirk resting on his lips.
"May I know what you both are doing here?"
Birbal replied instantly,
"The moon is beautiful tonight. We were searching for the best spot to admire it."
Chander chuckled.
"Such dedication to moon-gazing. I reserve that kind of effort for hunting murderers."
We left.
Powerless.
And Amara… would die tomorrow.
Later, I asked Birbal, "Why was Man Singh acting so guilty today? Did he know he was going to die?"
Birbal looked away.
"I… don't know."
"Liar," I said quietly. "I trusted you. Do the same."
He sighed.
"Man Singh was Dannyal's father."
My breath suddenly stopped.
"WHAT? But… wasn't his father killed?"
"Framed," Birbal replied. "Like Amara. To avoid scandal, a noble was sacrificed."
"How did he know Dannyal was his son?"
"A bracelet. His mother's. Dannyal wore it."
I swallowed hard.
"So now I carry another secret."
Birbal nodded.
"No wonder Dannyal excels in military strategy."
Morning arrived.
Amara stood upon the platform. The noose swayed gently in the air.
The executioner stepped closer.
She did not tremble.
There was no fear in her eyes—only faith.
They shone like gold, just like her heart.
Then—
"STOP!"
Adrian's scream tore through the silence.
"I killed the Queen!"
Gasps erupted. Birbal looked at me—but I was just as stunned.
The King rose.
"What madness is this?!"
"It's no madness, Father," Adrian said. "I killed her. I framed Amara."
His voice cracked.
"I was a coward… like you. But not anymore."
"If you want my life," he added, "Take it."
The King remained silent.
Then, coldly,
"For a devil like you, death is mercy. Disgrace suits you better."
He raised his hand.
"Adrian is sentenced to exile."
The crowd erupted in murmurs.
The law demanded torture.
But the King bent it—for his son.
Dannyal whispered beside me,
"This injustice will ignite the people."
He was right.
Amara stared at Adrian in disbelief.
She had lost faith in him.
Yet he loved her more than his honor… more than his life.
As he was taken away, Adrian turned once more.
He smiled at her—softly.
His eyes said what words could not:
At least she will live.
Even if it is without me.
The noose was spared—
but the kingdom had already tightened one around its own neck.