Secrets in Hastinapura were like shadows—always present, always shifting, and never truly gone.

Rhea had tried to ignore what she had seen. She had tried to walk away.

But the moment she set foot in the royal archives, she had already crossed a line.

And now, she wasn't sure if she could go back.

The change was subtle, but unmistakable.

The way the guards lingered when she passed. The way the scribes in the archives suddenly stopped speaking when she entered. The way Vidura's gaze seemed to follow her, thoughtful and unreadable.

She wasn't being accused of anything—not yet. But she was being watched.

Rhea knew how to survive in a palace like this. She knew how to pretend she hadn't noticed the shift, how to move carefully, how to act as though she had nothing to hide.

But the problem was, she did.

Because she had made the mistake of noticing something she wasn't supposed to.

And someone knew.

She wasn't sure who had set the message on her cot.

It hadn't been there when she left. No one had seen her room except the servants, and they rarely spoke to her beyond necessity.

But when she returned that evening, the small scrap of parchment was waiting.

One word.

"Stop."

That was it. No name. No explanation.

Just a warning.

Rhea sat down slowly, staring at the ink.

Someone wanted her to forget about the erased name.

Which meant someone knew she had seen it.

Her first instinct was to burn the note, to pretend it had never been there.

But instead, she folded it carefully and tucked it away.

Warnings were only given when there was something worth hiding.

And now, she had to know what it was.

She needed answers.

And if the records wouldn't give them to her, she needed to find someone who would.

The problem was, there weren't many people who had been alive long enough to remember an erased heir.

Except one.

The court historian was an old man named Harish, a figure most people ignored. He had spent his life recording the history of the Kuru dynasty, writing the names of kings and warriors so that they would not be forgotten.

But if anyone knew whose name had been erased—it was him.

Rhea found him where she always did, in the shaded corridors leading to the council chamber. He walked slowly, his thin frame hunched slightly from years of bending over scrolls and ink.

She fell into step beside him.

"Historian," she greeted.

Harish barely glanced at her. "What do you want, girl?"

Rhea had always found it amusing that he spoke to everyone the same way—whether it was a servant or a prince, his tone never changed.

"I was thinking," she said lightly, "Hastinapura must have had many heirs over the years."

Harish's step didn't falter, but she saw his fingers tighten around the scroll he carried.

"History is written in blood," he muttered. "And in silence."

She pretended not to hear the warning in his voice.

"But surely," she pressed, "not every prince made it to the throne. Some must have been lost to time."

Harish stopped walking.

For the first time, he turned fully to face her.

His eyes, sharp despite his age, scanned her face.

"You shouldn't ask these things."

Rhea tilted her head. "Why not?"

He studied her for a long moment. Then he sighed.

"There was one."

The words were quiet. Almost reluctant.

Her breath caught.

"A prince?" she asked carefully.

Harish nodded. "But not the kind you're thinking of."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

He hesitated, then lowered his voice.

"He was never meant to rule."

The words sent a chill down her spine.

A prince who was never meant to rule.

That could mean many things.

An illegitimate heir? A child born outside the royal line?

Or something else entirely?

She opened her mouth to ask more.

But she never got the chance.

Because before she could say another word, a hand closed around her wrist.

And she looked up to find Duryodhana standing there, watching her.

His grip wasn't tight. But it didn't need to be.

Because the look in his eyes said everything.

She had gone too far.

Author's Note:

Ohhhh, Rhea. You really don't know when to stop, do you? 😏

👀 A forgotten heir? 👀 A warning left in her room? 👀 And now Duryodhana knows she's looking for something.

Next chapter: Rhea learns the price of curiosity. 🔥