Chapter 11: The Poisoned Cup

On the day His Highness gave me poisoned milk, Mother came to see me especially.

She swept into my chamber, every inch the victorious queen, her eyes shining with anticipation.

She hadn’t changed—still luxuriously dressed, still beautiful, still proud.

Her saree shimmered gold, her bangles jingling as she sat across from me. Her scent filled the room, heavy with attar.

“You did very well. The Crown Prince’s fall was only a matter of time. Shreya, your mission is complete. You should go see your father now.”

Her words were ice. I stared at her, feeling only emptiness.

I looked at her with a mocking smile.

My lips curled. "Wah, Amma. So much love for your daughter?"

“You still have the face to mention my father?”

The words slipped out, heavy with years of hurt. Her eyes widened, shocked by my voice.

Mother was shocked that I could speak, but didn’t care.

She recovered quickly, shrugging. "Why not? Everything I did, I did for us."

She told me many things—how she and His Highness were childhood sweethearts, but the late Maharani stole his love.

Her voice grew soft, lost in memory. She spoke of secret letters, stolen glances in the palace gardens.

How her low birth forced her to risk her life as a spy in Kaveripur, just to find a way out.

She described the hunger, the cold, the endless longing for something more.

She said she hated her own beauty most, as it doomed her to serve men all her life.

She twisted her gold bangles, face tight with bitterness. "This face is a curse, Shreya. I was never free."

She also told me how clever and filial the Prince of Fortune was, and how, with a little planning, he would surely become the heir.

She boasted of his achievements, his kindness, his love for her. "He will never betray me."

Finally, she said that soon the world would belong to their family of three, and all unnecessary people should be eliminated.

She smiled, eyes cold as marble. "There is no place for traitors and weaklings."

The unnecessary ones meant me and Kabir.

I felt a strange peace—at least now I understood her fully.

Mother was the last to see me off. After that, I was forced to drink the deadly potion.

The maid handed me a silver cup, her hands shaking. I closed my eyes, swallowing it in one gulp.

Kabir always thought I was timid, but I wasn’t afraid at all.

In that moment, I was braver than I had ever been.

I had already instructed my people to rise with the Crown Prince at the appointed time.

My last letter was sealed, sent out with a trusted maid.

I wanted Kabir to personally kill those who destroyed my country.

Let him be the hand of justice, not just a victim.

I wanted Kabir to change the state name for me, to kill the Maharaj, to kill his own father.

My dreams were red with vengeance. I saw the banners of Kaveripur rise again.

I knew he would do it for me.

I believed in his love, even now.

He loved me, more than anything else.

Too much, perhaps. Enough to destroy himself.

He was just a simple-minded fool.

In matters of the heart, he was always too soft.

But I would never see him again.

The thought stung, but I forced it away.

It had been so long since I’d seen him. I missed him terribly.

I clung to the memory of his hand in mine.

But why wasn’t the milk I drank poison?

The taste was too sweet, too floral. I felt a heat spread through my body.

It was a love potion.

My limbs grew heavy, my breath came short. Fear twisted in my gut.

My body gradually lost control. For the first time, I felt true fear descend.

I tried to move, to scream, but the world spun around me.

I hurriedly searched my hair for a hairpin to stab my neck.

I clawed at my braid, searching for something—anything sharp.

I had a premonition that if I didn’t die now, what would come next would be unbearable.

A cold sweat broke on my brow. I prayed for courage, for death, for escape.

But I still failed to die.

My hands were pulled away, my world going black.