The past had a way of surfacing.

No matter how deeply buried, no matter how carefully erased—the truth always found a way back.

And tonight, Rhea would learn a piece of it.

Giri had been avoiding her since their last conversation.

Rhea wasn't surprised. He had said too much.

But she wasn't about to let him disappear now.

So, when the palace quieted for the night, she found him where she knew he would be—the small storehouse near the eastern wall, where the older servants gathered to sort through supplies.

She stepped into the dimly lit space, closing the door behind her.

Giri froze, his back half-turned toward her.

Then, after a long pause, he sighed. "I should have kept my mouth shut."

Rhea leaned against a wooden pillar. "Probably."

A pause.

Then, quietly—"But you didn't."

Giri exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face.

"What do you want, child?"

"The truth."

He let out a dry laugh. "And what will you do with it?"

Rhea did not answer immediately.

Because the truth was—she didn't know.

All her life, she had wanted to understand what had happened to her father.

She had wanted to know who had taken everything from him.

But wanting to know the truth and knowing what to do with it—those were two different things.

Still, she said firmly—"Tell me, Giri."

The old man sighed.

And finally—he did.

"Your father was a careful man," Giri murmured. "Not someone who played the games of power lightly."

Rhea stayed silent.

She had always known this. Her father had never been reckless. He had been measured, deliberate in his words.

But even careful men made mistakes.

"And yet," Giri continued, "he started asking questions."

Rhea's breath caught.

"About?"

Giri hesitated.

Then, softly—"A name."

A name.

Rhea already knew what he was going to say.

She had seen it in her father's letters. She had felt it in the way people refused to meet her eyes whenever she asked about the past.

Still, she needed to hear it.

"Say it."

Giri's face was shadowed in the dim light.

Then, finally—"A child who was meant to be king."

Rhea felt her pulse slow.

So it was true.

Her father had been searching for someone who no longer existed.

Not dead.

Erased.

She swallowed. "Who was he?"

Giri's gaze flickered. "That, I do not know."

Rhea's jaw clenched. "You expect me to believe that?"

Giri gave her a tired look. "I am telling you what I know, child. I was only a servant. But what I do know is this—"

He leaned forward slightly.

"Your father was not the only one searching."

Rhea stilled.

"What do you mean?"

Giri sighed. "Vidura knew. Bhishma knew. And if they knew—then so did the others."

The weight of the words settled over her.

Her father had not been alone.

But he had been the only one who had paid the price.

She exhaled slowly. "And what happened when he got too close?"

Giri looked away.

Rhea did not need him to answer.

She already knew.

Rhea left the storehouse with more questions than answers.

Giri had given her a piece of the puzzle.

But she still didn't know the full picture.

Why had her father been searching? What had he found? And most importantly—who had silenced him?

Her mind was still spinning when she stepped into the palace corridors.

She had expected silence.

Instead—she found Vidura waiting for her.

She stopped mid-step, surprised.

He tilted his head slightly. "You ask too many questions, Rhea."

Rhea swallowed, her heart still unsteady from Giri's words.

Still, she met Vidura's gaze evenly. "You already know what I found out, don't you?"

A pause.

Then—"Yes."

Rhea inhaled sharply.

Vidura never lied.

He simply chose what to tell.

She clenched her fists. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Vidura sighed. "Because, Rhea, some truths do not set you free. They chain you down."

Rhea's breath hitched.

Because this was not a dismissal.

It was a warning.

And she realized then—Vidura was afraid.

Afraid that if she kept searching, she would find the same fate as her father.

But that only made her more certain.

She could not stop now.

Even if it meant she had to dig through every secret Hastinapura had buried.