Same night, Delhi kingdom, some where in outskirts of khnow city.

  As night enveloped the outskirts of Lakhnau (lucknow), the caravan of Queen Raamya of Bengal moved silently through the darkness. The queens caravan consisted with 3,000 soldiers disguised as merchants in loose robes, and 1,000 cavalry serving as security, positioned strategically at the front and rear.

  Inside the panquin, Amira rested her head gently on Raamya's p, while the queen nestled her body against her like a favorite pillow. The queen's regal saree shimmered softly in the moonlight, casting a faint glow as she gazed out at the blurred scenery passing through the curtains.

  Suddenly, the rhythmic noise of the journey was disrupted by an abrupt halt. The panquin swayed gently as the caravan came to a standstill. Raamya's brow furrowed as she was roused from her reverie.

  "What is it, Vikram?" she asked with authority.

  Vikram, the commander, responded, "Your Majesty, there's a rge gathering ahead. It appears to be a sati pratha. I suggest we wait until it is over."

  Intrigued, Raamya lifted the curtain and peered outside. A crowd had gathered, their faces illuminated by flickering torchlight. At the center of the grim spectacle was a beautiful girl aged near 14, dressed as a bride, sat atop the funeral pyre with lifeless eyes. Nearby, the body of an elderly man y for the grim ritual.

  Raamya gently rested Amira's head back in the panquin and stepped out. Though she had heard of the ritual, she had never witnessed it nor fully understood it.

  She approached Vikram and asked, "What will happen to that girl? Why is she sitting there?"

  Vikram, his gaze downcast, replied, "Once her husband dies, she is to be immoted with him if no one is willing to care for her."

  The response shocked Raamya. She struggled to comprehend the cruelty and the age gap involved. "Isn't it supposed to be voluntary?" she asked.

  Vikram hesitated before responding, "Your Majesty, it is meant to be voluntary. I've heard tales of women seeking sainthood or divine glory by this act, but in reality, many are forced into it."

  Raamya's heart ached at the grim revetion. Her demeanor hardened as she tightened her pallu at her waist and decred by grabbing the knife, "Bring me my horse and assemble 10 men. I will ensure that no injustice is done."

  Vikram, taken aback, urged, "But Your Majesty, revealing ourselves will expose our location. We should remain discreet and not interfere with religious practices."

  Raamya contempted for a moment, then ordered, "Alright, we will not make any scene until we are certain of the situation. Also, no actions will be taken unless I command it. Maintain the disguise."

  Vikram insisted, "Still, Your Majesty, recon.."

  He was cut off by Raamya, who narrowed her gaze at him. "Enough! Vikram, follow my orders."

  Reluctantly, He agreed. With ten men, they rode to the ritual site, disguising themselves as travelers with their faces hidden beneath their robes.

  Vikram reluctantly agreed and, with ten men, they rode toward the ritual site, their faces hidden within their robes.

  As they joined the crowd, the hymns of the ritual reverberated through the air. They learned that the procession involved a noble zamindar who had married the girl only days before by bribing her parents. Tragically, the old zamindar had died of a heart attack on their wedding night, and the girl was now to be made a sati with the approval of her parents, who deemed her too young and vulnerable to be left behind.

  The priest addressed the crowd, sprinkling holy water from the Ganges on the girl. "Is there anyone from the husband's family who would like to care for her?"

  No one moved. The four zamindar's sons looked on with regret as the crowd's gaze remained fixed on them.

  The priest then asked, "Is there anyone from the vilge who would like to take care of her?"

  Still, no one moved. Heads were bowed in silence.

  The priest, shied and announced with regret, "Then this girl shall attain godhood."

  The chanting of "Glory to Goddess Sati" echoed through the night. Just as the priest was about to ignite the pyre, a hand suddenly intercepted him. Dressed in a saree resembling noble attire and wrapped in a shawl, it was Raamya, her face flushed with anger.

  She flung the torch away and demanded, "Priest, why didn't you ask the girl's wish?"

  The crowd gasped at the sudden interruption. The zamindar's sons were visibly distressed. One of them, middle-aged and elder, confronted her. "Devi (title for women), this is our sacred ritual. Please do not interfere."

  Raamya ignored him and stared intently at the priest, who struggled to free his hand from her grip despite her seemingly fragile appearance.

  Panic-stricken, the priest stammered, "The.. The girl is too young to decide.. we as guardians.. have taken decision."

  One of the younger zamindar's sons stepped forward, brandishing a stick and pointing it at Raamya. "Devi, do not test our patience. You do not know who we are? Do not interfere in matters beyond your understanding."

  Raamya's anger fred as she turned her gaze toward the zamindar's son. "Goddess Sati is known for self-immotion voluntarily to honor Lord Shiva. What you are doing is cruel and against dharma."

  The crowd began to murmur angrily, and the zamindar's elder brother sneered, "If you have so much fire, we can quell it. Last warning, woman. Leave while you can." His malintent was evident.

  Raamya kicked him with force, sending him crashing into his brothers behind. The younger son attempted to strike her, but Vikram's men intervened, seizing the attackers and drawing knives at each of their throats.

  The priest's hands turned red from Raamya's grip, his face pale with fear. "Devi, why are you going so far? Who are you?"

  Vikram, with a grim expression, addressed Raamya, "Forgive me, Your Majesty, but we cannot stand down in a situation like this. It's getting out of control."

  The crowd, shocked by the revetion of Raamya being royalty, scattered in panic, leaving behind zamindar's men caught and trembling in fear.

  Raamya, replied "You said if anyone outside the vilge would be interested? Here I am. I announce I will take her."

  The girl's eyes flickered with a glimmer of hope as she looked at Raamya, tears streamed down her face but despite her willingness she can't move.

  The zamindar's sons, their faces pale with dread, protested .

  "No, you cannot."

  "You have no right after the ritual is done."

  Raamya, sensing the girl's immense pain, twisted the priest's hand brutally. He confessed, under pain, that he had been bribed by the zamindar's sons, who had forced themselves on her and wanted to settle it on the disguise of ritual. Disgusted, Raamya broke the priest's hand and, with a swift motion, sliced his neck.

  Vikram, still grim, pointed to the captured men and asked, "Your Majesty, what should we do with them?"

  Raamya took the girl from the pyre who still had blood stained in legs, Then replied with cold voice, 'Burn them all!'

  Same night, Rewari Kingdom, some where in inner pace.

  The air in the dimly lit chamber was thick with tension amidst the flickering torchlights. A group of men huddled together in a secret meeting.

  Acharya Sukhdev said as he addressed the group gathered "That imbecile prince, with no respect for our traditions, dared to challenge me in front of the entire court."

  A chorus of murmurs and derogatory remarks followed, each man expressing their own grievances against Prince Aditya.

  "He seeks to undermine our authority," a minister of taxes hissed, his eyes filled with hatred.

  "If his pns come to w, we will be reduced to mere clerks."

  "Precisely. Our centuries-old wisdom and knowledge will be disregarded. We will be no better than market sellers, begging for attention and scraps the streets ."

  A moment of silence fell over the group as they contempted the grim reality of such a future.

  Harihar Pandey, the same Brahmin who had earlier interjected in the court, shifted uncomfortably.

  "I... I believe we are going too far," he stammered. "Prince Aditya may be misguided, but violence is not the answer. The shloka he recited was indeed correct. "A wave of hostility washed over him.

  "Coward!" someone spat." Fear has consumed you."

  Harihar stood his ground, he decred with raising voice. "I fear for my soul, not for my position. None can escape karma. This path leads to darkness."

  With a final disdainful gnce at the group, he turned and left the chamber by smming the door behind.

  A tense silence followed his departure.

  A kingdom official with fear, spoke up. "What if he speaks against us."

  Acharya Sukhdev reassured. "Fear not. He is a coward and easily manageable. Besides, what evidence do they have of this gathering? A mere accusation will not hold against us. Our real concern should be the imperial prince."

  The conversation shifted to the threat posed by Prince Aditya.

  The officials and Brahmins agreed and shed out on potential losses in authority expressing their concern.

  A brahmin inquired in anticipation, "What do you propose, Acharya? What can be done?"

  Acharya Sukhdev sighed deeply as he concluded, "Given the stakes, it seems we have no choice but to eliminate him. His power and reputation make him a formidable opponent, but if we act decisively, we might still succeed."

  The room erupted into gasps and anxious murmurs.

  A minister inquired with pale face, "But isn't he too powerful? If we fail, the consequences could be disastrous. We will have to face the wrath of empire."

  "We have no choice," Acharya Sukhdev said with regret. " We need to do whatever it takes for our way of life. Also, Prince Aditya's main weapons are not always with him. We need to exploit this. ," he reminded.

  The officials and Brahmins nodded in agreement.

  A military official reported. "Prince often visits the cannon factory and doesn't always carry security. It could be a good opportunity."

  Acharya Sukhdev excimed, "Perfect. We should seize opportunity like this. We can either send our loyalists or hire mercenaries if needed."

  A pn began to take shape. The prince's routine was discussed, his vulnerabilities analyzed. It was decided that an ambush in disguise of bandits would be the most effective method.

  As the conspirators left, weight of their decision hung heavy on the air.