Rhea knew she should stop.

She should take Karna's warning seriously. She should let go of the erased name, the whispers of a lost heir, and the quiet tension that had started wrapping around her like an invisible noose.

She should walk away.

But she wouldn't.

Because now, it was too late.

The note was waiting for her that night.

Slipped beneath her door, barely visible in the dim torchlight.

No signature. No seal. Just a single, carefully written line:

"If you want answers, come to the temple ruins at dawn. Come alone."

Rhea stared at it, heart pounding.

This was a trap.

It had to be.

But traps were only set for people who knew too much.

And that meant someone thought she was worth silencing.

She should burn the note. Forget she ever saw it.

She should stay in her quarters, pretend none of this was happening.

But the truth was already crawling under her skin, and she couldn't let it go.

So when dawn came, she went.

The temple ruins were older than the palace itself.

A place most people avoided—not out of fear, but because Hastinapura no longer had time for forgotten gods.

Rhea moved carefully, her footsteps soft against the cracked stone floor. The rising sun cast long shadows, stretching across the empty courtyard.

She wasn't alone.

A figure stood at the edge of the temple steps, partially hidden in the shadows.

Rhea slowed her steps. "You called me here."

The figure stepped forward.

Her breath caught.

Vidura.

She had expected Shakuni. A spy. Maybe even Karna.

But not Vidura.

The king's trusted advisor. The man who had always moved like a shadow between power and wisdom.

His expression was unreadable. "You've been looking in dangerous places, Rhea."

She swallowed. "I wasn't looking for anything."

Vidura's lips curled into something almost amused. "Lying to a man who built his life on listening? Bold."

Rhea exhaled sharply. "Then you already know what I've found."

Vidura nodded. "Not enough to be a threat. But enough to draw attention."

She crossed her arms. "Duryodhana?"

Vidura shook his head. "Not just him."

A cold weight settled in her stomach.

Vidura studied her carefully. "You think this is just about a name on a record. It's not."

Rhea frowned. "Then what is it about?"

Vidura didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he reached into his robes and pulled out a small, folded parchment.

He held it out to her.

She hesitated before taking it.

The parchment was old, edges worn, the ink slightly faded.

She unfolded it carefully.

At first, it looked like any other royal decree—neatly written, carrying the weight of authority.

Then she saw it.

A second name.

One that had been erased alongside the heir.

Her breath caught.

"That's not possible," she whispered.

Vidura's expression didn't change.

"It is."

Rhea looked back at the paper. The ink was faded, but the name was still there, barely visible beneath the scratches.

A name she knew.

A name that should have never been linked to the lost prince.

Her hands tightened around the parchment.

This wasn't just about a missing heir.

It was about who had erased them.

And now, she was in far more danger than she had ever imagined.

Author's Note:

OHHH, RHEA. 😏

👀 Vidura was the one who called her. 👀 The erased heir wasn't the only name removed from history. 👀 And now, she's holding proof of something bigger than she ever expected.

Next chapter: Who else knows? And how long before they come for her? 🔥