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The Rajput Princess

It is a captivating tale of tradition, adventure, love and sacrifice set against the backdrop of the 17th century Mughal Empire located in India. Disclaimer: This novel is a work of fiction that explores historical events that could have happened. Any similarities to real-world historical occurrences are purely coincidental and are a product of the author's imagination. The intent is to offer an alternate perspective on history and should not be construed as an accurate representation of actual events. Reader discretion is advised.

marvel_away · History
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8 Chs

Amer Palace V

Maota Lake, Amer Village

On the shores of Maota Lake, amidst the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft lapping of water against the bank, Meera's attention was drawn to the figure the crowd was watching. It was her younger brother, Prince Jai. 

With a flower clutched in his hand, he stood amidst the serene landscape, his expression one of quiet determination. Lost in contemplation, she was startled from her reverie by the familiar voice of her brother, Prince Jai, calling out to her.

Approaching him with concern, she observed as Prince Jai bent to adjust his sandals, a smile playing upon his lips as he caught sight of her approach. 

"Hello, sister," he exclaimed cheerfully, his voice carrying on the breeze. "I've been waiting ages for a chance to speak with you, but it seems everyone's been keeping me at bay including mother."

As Meera sighed in exasperation, she couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for her brother because of the gossiping she heard from the villagers who were witnessing the spectacle.

"Prince Jai, what were you thinking, risking your life near the lake? Do you not realize the danger posed by those crocodiles?"

The prince shrugged nonchalantly, his demeanor relaxed despite the danger he had faced. "Why should I be afraid?" he replied with a grin. "The crocodiles are more scared of me than I am of them. Just look, they haven't dared to show their snouts again."

"But why risk it, Prince Jai?" Meera pressed, her brow furrowing with worry. "The lake is treacherous, why did you risk yourself for these water lilies?"

Jai's gaze softened as he regarded his elder sister. "These water lilies were meant for Mother's ritual and the flower were there, sister." he explained simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "What else could I do, sister?"

A sigh escaped from Meera's lips as she shook her head in exasperation. "You are incorrigible, Prince Jai," she chided.

Then her brother changed his topic as was swiftly as his gaze meeting hers with unwavering determination. "Call me by name, sister," he insisted, his voice carrying a note of defiance. "I am your brother, first and foremost. Titles mean nothing between us."

Meera was going to say but ultimately offered a resigned nod, conceding to her brother's wishes with a fond smile. "As you wish, Jai," she acquiesced, her tone softening with affection. "But remember, titles aside, I will always worry for your well-being."

As Prince Jai prepared to depart for the palace with the water lily clutched in his hand, he said.

"Sister, now I have to run to the palace. The auspicious time for mother's ritual is near." Then paused for a moment and said again. "As you know sister, the sun and the moon can change their course of direction but the auspicious time for mother's ritual can never be missed. I'm going now."

Meera moved to bid him farewell, only to find herself caught off guard as he reached out to grasp her hand in his own.

"Come with me to the temple," he urged, his gaze earnest as he met her eyes. "Mother's ritual awaits, and I would have my sister by my side."

But before she could protest, his grip on her was firm. "Come, sister, time waits for no one. Our mother's ritual cannot be delayed any longer."

 They raced back towards the palace together as her hand firmly clasped around his with the other hand holding the flower.

*****

Sila Devi Mandir (Amer Palace)

As the minutes stretched, tension hung palpably in the air like a heavy shroud, each passing moment seeming to amplify the collective apprehension. The flickering flames of the temple's oil lamps cast eerie shadows upon the faces of the women gathered.

Amidst the hushed murmurs and anxious glances exchanged between the women, a sudden hush fell over as one woman, her voice barely above a whisper, dared to voice the thing that had taken root in their hearts.

"Your Highness," she began tentatively, her words barely audible, "Prince Jai has not arrived..."

Damyanti, though outwardly composed, felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her chest at the news of her son's delayed arrival. Yet, she remained steadfast in her faith, trusting in her assurances.

"Patience, my sisters," she urged, her voice carrying a note of unwavering conviction. "Let us not falter in our faith. Prince Jai will arrive in his own time, as he promised."

Her words, though intended to offer reassurance, did little to dispel the sense of unease that lingered in the temple hall. 

 Just as despair threatened to take root in their hearts, the heavy silence was shattered by the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing through the temple hall. Then after a few seconds, all heads turned as Prince Jai Singh who was resplendent in his princely attire, and the Princess who was wearing a cloak entered the temple.

"Greetings, mother," Both the Prince and Princess said the same thing but their tone differed from one another. When the prince said, his voice tinged with warmth and affection while the Princess's tone was filled with apprehension.

Damyanti's eyes sparkled with maternal pride as she blessed her son, "God bless you. Shine bright." But when she eyed the Princess, Damyanti just ignored her.

Both of them was standing awkwardly because of the atmosphere but before the prince could wonder why, Damyanti told to sit. Therefore both them sat down.

Damyanti turned her attention back to the altar, where the idol of the goddess Sila Devi awaited, resplendent in her divine majesty. The flickering oil lamps cast a warm glow upon the intricately carved features of the deity.

With a steady hand and a heart filled with devotion, she closed her eyes in silent reverence, her lips moving in whispered prayers that echoed through the temple hall like a gentle breeze.

"Oh, mighty Sila Devi, embodiment of strength and grace," she began, her voice a soft murmur that seemed to resonate with the very essence of the divine, "we humbly beseech thee to bless us with thy divine protection and guidance."

"Grant us the courage to face life's challenges with fortitude and resilience," she continued, her words imbued with a fervent sincerity that echoed the earnest desires of her heart, "and the wisdom to navigate its trials with grace and humility."

"Shower thy blessings upon us, O goddess," she prayed, her voice rising in fervor as she implored the divine presence before her, "that we may walk the path of righteousness and virtue, and honor thee in all that we do."

"And amidst the flickering candlelight and the sweet aroma of incense," she murmured, her voice a gentle caress that seemed to soothe the soul, "let us offer our hearts and souls to thee, that thou mayest guide us with thy divine light and love."

As the words of her prayer hung in the air, the devotees joined their voices with hers, their hymns rising in harmony to fill the temple with a chorus of devotion. The air was thick with the heady scent of sandalwood and jasmine, mingling with the sweet aroma of incense that wafted through the air.

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