13

Chapter : 12 The fire that didn't die

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Udaipur – Early Morning

The city was quieter than Rajgarh—older in a way that wasn’t just in stone but in secrets.

Aarohi stepped out of the black SUV, accompanied only by a discreet palace aide. Her heart pounded, but her expression remained composed.

She had no official reason to be here—only an echo.

A name in a lost archive. A face that looked like hers.

And a fire no one wanted to talk about.

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Across the City – Rajmata’s Private Carriage

The royal crest glinted on the hood, but the journey was made in silence. Rajmata stared out the window, gripping a velvet pouch tightly in her lap.

Inside: a pair of tiny silver bangles.

She hadn’t held them in 30 years.

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Aarohi’s Location – Abandoned Haveli

The haveli stood like a forgotten prayer—burnt arches, charred walls, creepers swallowing its bones.

“This was House Raghuvanshi,” her aide said softly. “Fire took it in ’86. Officially, the line ended here.”

Aarohi stepped forward, her fingers brushing over the stone.

“Lekin yahan ki hawa mein sirf raakh nahi… sach bhi hai.”

She walked into the ruins alone.

Suddenly—she saw it.

A half-burnt portrait, barely clinging to the wall. A woman holding two children.

And that woman…

Looked exactly like her.

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Elsewhere – Rajmata’s Stop: Old Temple Keeper’s Hut

The aged priest greeted her with folded hands.

“Rani-sa. Aap itne saalon baad…”

“I’ve come for answers,” she said, voice still royal but softer. “The girl. Aarohi. She’s begun to remember.”

The priest looked troubled.

“The fire was meant to kill all who carried the name. But she lived. And now… she’s stirring the old curse awake.”

Rajmata’s breath caught. “What curse?”

The priest unrolled an old scroll. It bore a blood-sealed symbol.

“A woman of lost royalty will rise. Loved by the people, feared by kings. And when she claims her truth… Rajgarh’s crown will tremble.”

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Aarohi’s Final Discovery – Underground Room in Haveli

Aarohi’s flashlight flickered as she entered a lower level. The air was thick with ash.

She saw crates—old, sealed documents. Charred toys. A broken silver locket.

And a diary, wrapped in silk.

Opening it, she read the first line:

“My name was Meera Raghuvanshi. And my daughter must never forget who she is…”

Her knees buckled. The truth she chased now burned in her hands.

Her mother hadn’t been no one.

She had been the queen of a lost line.

And Aarohi—the daughter of fire—was never meant to kneel.

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Final Scene – Shadowed Balcony, Rajgarh Palace

Veer Sahni stood with another figure.

“She knows.”

The second figure lit a cigarette. “Then we move to the next step.”

“What if she fights back?”

“She will. That’s the plan.”

The figure turned toward the moonlight.

It was someone Aarohi trusted.

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Rajgarh Palace – Late Evening

The moment Aarohi’s car entered the palace gates, every guard, maid, and advisor could feel it—something had changed.

She wasn’t the same.

Her walk was still graceful. Her face still kind.

But her eyes… sharp like glass about to cut.

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Inside the Palace – Rajmata’s Balcony

Rajmata stood at the railing, watching the storm build across the night sky. She saw Aarohi enter the palace from afar.

“She didn’t come to me first,” she murmured.

The maid behind her hesitated. “Kya Rani-sa… use sach keh dena chahiye?”

Rajmata closed her eyes. “Nahi. Abhi nahi. Warna woh sirf crown nahi… poora darbaar hila degi.”

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Aarohi’s Chambers

Aarohi closed the door behind her. Alone.

She opened her mother’s diary again.

Every line was a wound stitched with truth—of exile, betrayal, a fire that wasn’t an accident. Her mother had trusted someone within Rajgarh before she died.

And now… Aarohi would find out who continued the lie.

She opened her notes.

At the top:

“Three who could be traitors.”

1. Advisor Devashish – too quick to dismiss gala threats.

2. Veer Sahni – the masked man.

3. A trusted royal… close to Aviraj.

She underlined the last line.

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Elsewhere – Aviraj’s Study

He sat reviewing files, trying to shift focus from palace tensions to royal business and foreign contracts. But he kept remembering Aarohi’s face that night before she left.

“Mujhe rukawat mat bano.”

She wasn’t shutting him out anymore.

She was hiding something.

His phone buzzed.

A secure text:

“Target knows. Next step in motion. – V.S.”

His eyes narrowed.

V.S.

Veer Sahni? Or… someone else?

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Dining Hall – Next Morning

Aarohi and Rajmata sat across from each other. Alone.

Rajmata poured tea calmly.

“You went to Udaipur,” she said.

Aarohi met her gaze. “Yes.”

“And?”

“I saw what you never wanted me to find.”

Rajmata paused. “Then ask what you came to ask.”

But Aarohi only smiled. “I will. When I know which of us is wearing a crown… and which is wearing a mask.”

Silence.

Rajmata inhaled slowly. She had changed. Completely.

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Final Scene – Secret Surveillance Room, Rajgarh

A hooded figure watched footage of Aarohi entering the ruined haveli. Finding the diary. Returning home.

A voice behind them asked, “Should we stop her?”

The figure replied,

“No. Let her dig.

Because the deeper she goes…

the harder it’ll be to escape.”

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Rajgarh Palace – Midnight

The thunder outside echoed the storm inside her chest.

Aarohi sat on the floor of her chamber, the diary pages scattered around her. Her fingers trembled as she looked at the final entries—pages her mother had hidden behind sewn cloth.

"We trusted a royal advisor. The one closest to the prince. He knew our secret. He gave us away."

The ink was smudged. But the last two words were clearer than the rest:

“Aviraj’s blood.”

She stared at them until her vision blurred.

“Woh bhi unhi mein tha…?”

Was he part of it?

Did he know who she was all along?

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Next Morning – Palace Hallway

Aviraj approached her.

He had barely slept, burdened with business deals, security lapses, and her quiet withdrawal. But today, he decided to stop waiting.

“Aarohi,” he called gently.

She turned, but didn’t smile.

“Tumse baat karni thi,” he said, stepping closer.

“Ab kuch reh gaya hai kehne ko?” she replied, voice sharp but calm.

“Aisa kyun keh rahi ho? Tum badal gayi ho.”

She looked him straight in the eyes. “Main badli nahi hoon, Aviraj. Bas dekhna shuru kiya hai.”

His jaw clenched. “Tum mujhe accuse kar rahi ho?”

“Main tumpe vishwas karne ki koshish kar rahi thi,” she said bitterly. “Par shayad… tum sabse acchi jhooti kahani likhte ho.”

She walked away, leaving Aviraj stunned.

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Elsewhere – Rajmata’s Garden

Rajmata watched the peacocks in the courtyard with a heavy sigh. The silence between the two had become impossible to ignore.

“They’ll destroy each other if this continues,” she said to her maid.

“Rani-sa, kya unmein kuch tha hi nahi?”

Rajmata frowned. “Unmein sab kuch tha. Bas kisi ne beech mein zehar chhod diya.”

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Private Archives – Late Evening

Aarohi dug deeper.

She now believed Veer Sahni was working under Aviraj’s orders. The timelines matched too well. The visits, the names erased, the warnings her mother wrote.

But one letter stopped her breath.

A confidential communication from Aviraj’s desk—dated three months before their engagement.

“Ensure Subject R remains unaware of her lineage until the security review is complete.”

She slammed the folder shut.

"Subject R."

She wasn't even a name.

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Meanwhile – Aviraj’s Study

Aviraj paced. He sensed something slipping.

He texted her once. Twice. No reply.

His assistant knocked. “Sir, the Zurich delegates are ready.”

He nodded distractedly but stared at his phone again.

One message came through.

From Aarohi.

> "Thank you for protecting the crown. Even if it meant breaking the queen."

He dropped the phone.

“Kya kiya maine…?”

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Final Scene – Secret Chamber

Veer Sahni watched everything unfold on the surveillance monitor.

“Aarohi thinks he betrayed her. Perfect.”

A woman’s voice behind him asked, “And the next step?”

“Let her walk into the fire,” he said coldly. “She’ll never see who lit it.”

End of chapter

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"A Royal Decree of the Quill: The Noble Pursuit of Fan Allegiance" In the hallowed halls of the Written Realm, where ink flows like the lifeblood of kingdoms long forgotten, and parchments whisper secrets beneath candlelight, there resides a sovereign—neither garbed in gold nor armored in steel—but cloaked in words, crowned by imagination, and armed with the pen. This sovereign is none other than the Writer, the eternal monarch of stories. To this noble Ruler of Realms, the greatest treasure is not the weight of gold or the praise of kings—it is the loyal allegiance of the realm’s people: the Readers, the Admirers, the Followers, and most esteemed of all, the Fans. And so, beneath moonlit scrolls and beside ancient inkstones, the Writer crafts a charter—a manifesto carved in prose and passion—setting forth the grand ambitions for fan support. These ambitions are not born from vanity but from a sacred bond between creator and beholder, a covenant of hearts bound by story.

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