The scene shifts back to the hidden pavilion.
Chandraveer stood silently at the edge of the narrow stretch of water, his hands behind his back, staring at the quiet structure before him. His expression was deep in thought as the still water reflected the vines and trees surrounding the pavilion.
Behind him, servants carefully lowered a thick wooden deck across the water.
Servant: Your Majesty, the path is ready.
The servants stepped onto the wooden deck first, testing its strength. The wood creaked slightly but held firm.
The guards followed next.
Finally, Chandraveer stepped forward and crossed over the water.
When they reached the pavilion, the group stopped in front of its large wooden entrance doors. Time had darkened the wood, and thin vines crawled across the frame.
One of the guards stepped forward and raised his shoulder to break the door open.
Chandraveer immediately stopped him.
Chandraveer: Wait.
The guard paused.
Chandraveer looked carefully at the old structure.
Chandraveer: We do not know how old or weak this building has become. If you break the door, the entire frame might collapse.
The guard nodded.
The soldiers slowly pushed against the doors instead, applying careful force.
After a few moments, the ancient wood groaned loudly.
The doors slowly opened.
A cold wave of stale air escaped from inside.
The interior was covered in darkness and dust.
The guards stepped in first with their lanterns, lighting the room with warm golden flames.
As the light spread across the chamber, the first thing visible near the entrance were three beautifully decorated musical instruments placed carefully beside one another.
A veena.
A sitar.
And a tanpura.
Each instrument rested against the wall beside three large metal doors, all of which were tightly locked with rusted iron locks.
To the side of the chamber stood a staircase leading to the upper floor.
Chandraveer observed the room quietly.
Chandraveer: Search the pavilion.
He looked at the guards firmly.
Chandraveer: But do not damage anything.
Guards: Yes, Your Majesty.
Servants began lighting more lanterns, illuminating the large chamber slowly.
The bottom floor contained little furniture. The musical instruments rested silently in the dusty air, as if waiting for someone who had not returned for many years.
At the far wall hung a large, beautifully painted portrait of a woman holding a sitar.
Her posture was graceful, her expression calm.
Chandraveer looked at it briefly.
The elegant pose and instrument reminded him of temple artwork.
Chandraveer: Perhaps Saraswati.
Assuming it to be a painting of Saraswati, he gave it little thought and turned away.
While the others continued searching the lower floor, Chandraveer quietly walked toward the staircase.
Without calling anyone, he began climbing to the upper floor alone.
The wooden steps creaked softly beneath his feet.
At the top of the stairs he stopped in front of a closed door.
For a moment he simply stood there, observing it.
Then he slowly pushed it open.
The door revealed a room that looked like a private chamber.
A bed stood against the wall.
Beside it was a dressing mirror covered in dust.
Near the window sat a wooden writing desk.
Chandraveer approached the desk and opened one of its cabinets.
Inside were several loose pages.
He pulled them out.
They were poems.
Not formal court poetry.
The writing felt personal — quiet thoughts written for no audience.
Lines about rain.
About silence.
About waiting.
These poems did not sound like they were written to impress others.
They sounded like someone writing only for themselves.
Chandraveer quietly placed the pages down.
Then his eyes noticed something else in the corner of the room.
Several torn pieces of paper were scattered across the floor.
Some were crumpled.
Others were folded harshly, as if someone had ripped them apart in frustration.
He picked one up.
They were letters.
But none of them had names written on them.
No sender.
No recipient.
Only words.
He unfolded one piece and began reading.
"The place is peaceful…but peace comes with loneliness."
Chandraveer's eyes narrowed slightly.
He picked up another torn page.
"The nobles are refusing to accept it."
Another piece.
This one more damaged than the others.
The words were uneven, as if written in distress.
"If more people learn about my past…this empire and its foundation will be torn apart."
Chandraveer slowly lowered the paper.
The room fell completely silent.
For the first time since entering the pavilion, his calm expression shifted slightly.
Something about these words did not belong to an ordinary story.
And somewhere within these torn letters…
A secret about the royal family was waiting to be uncovered.
As Chandraveer continued reading the torn pages scattered across the floor, the sound of hurried footsteps approached from behind.
Nayan appeared at the doorway, slightly out of breath.
For a moment, relief washed over his face.
Nayan: Your Majesty… I was looking for you everywhere. I thought you had somehow gone deeper into the pavilion alone.
Chandraveer quietly folded the torn letter in his hand and turned toward him.
Nayan walked closer.
In his hands he carried a small wooden box, carefully carved and sealed.
Nayan: While searching downstairs, we found this hidden behind one of the pillars. The box was tightly packed and untouched.
He gently handed it over to Chandraveer.
Unlike the dusty objects around the pavilion, the box looked strangely well preserved. When Chandraveer opened it, he found a single letter inside, folded carefully and sealed with old wax.
The paper itself looked far newer than the torn letters scattered in the room.
Chandraveer slowly unfolded it.
The writing inside was unfamiliar.
Curved symbols flowed across the page in elegant lines, completely different from the scripts used in the empire.
Chandraveer studied it carefully.
But the more he looked, the clearer it became.
He could not read a single word.
Nayan leaned slightly forward, curious.
Nayan: None of us downstairs could recognize the language either.
He paused before adding quietly:
Nayan: It does not look like any script used in our lands.
The room fell silent.
Chandraveer continued staring at the strange writing, his mind slowly turning.
Whoever had written this letter…
Was not from this empire.
Outside, the wind moved gently through the vines covering the pavilion walls, making the old structure creak softly.
And for the first time since entering the pavilion, Chandraveer began to realize that the secrets hidden here might reach far beyond the palace itself.
He carefully folded the letter again and placed it back into the box.
Chandraveer: Take this with us.
Nayan nodded.
But before leaving the room, Chandraveer glanced once more at the scattered poems and torn letters on the floor.
Whoever had lived here…
Had been hiding something.
Something even the empire itself had never discovered.
Chandraveer carefully closed the wooden box and handed it back to Nayan.
Chandraveer: Keep this safe.
Nayan nodded and held the box firmly.
The two of them walked down the wooden staircase together and returned to the lower floor of the pavilion. The lanterns still flickered across the dusty hall while guards quietly continued examining the surroundings.
Without saying much, Chandraveer stepped outside the pavilion.
The cool air of the garden greeted them again.
But the peaceful silence from earlier was gone.
Across the garden pathways and near the water's edge, groups of palace workers, servants, and a few officials had gathered, whispering among themselves while staring toward the pavilion.
Some stood on stones, others leaned over railings trying to glimpse inside.
Their voices blended into a low wave of murmurs.
Servant whispers spread quickly in palaces.
Nayan glanced around at the growing crowd.
Nayan: It seems the whispers have already reached everyone's ears.
Chandraveer looked at the people silently.
Curiosity and rumors had already begun to spread.
If the crowd grew larger, the mystery of the pavilion would soon turn into palace gossip.
Nayan subtly slid the small wooden box inside his cloak, hiding it from view.
Chandraveer turned away from the crowd.
Chandraveer: We are leaving.
The guards immediately formed around them, clearing a path through the gathered servants.
Some people stepped aside respectfully.
Others continued whispering, their eyes filled with curiosity.
The emperor walked past them without a word.
Soon Chandraveer, Nayan, and a few guards left the hidden garden behind and made their way back through the quiet palace corridors.
Neither Chandraveer nor Nayan spoke during the walk.
The wooden box hidden beneath Nayan's cloak felt heavier with every step.
By the time they reached the emperor's office, the evening light had begun fading across the palace walls.
Chandraveer entered the chamber first.
The guards remained outside the door.
Inside the room, the emperor finally stopped walking.
His gaze moved toward the desk.
Chandraveer slowly turned toward Nayan.
Chandraveer: Bring the letter.
The mystery that had slept for decades inside the hidden pavilion was now sitting inside the emperor's chamber.
Waiting to be understood.
*scene shifts to chandraveer outside his mother's chamber*
The palace corridors were quiet by the time Chandraveer reached the inner residence.
Two guards outside the chamber bowed as he approached.
Guard: Your Majesty.
Chandraveer stepped inside.
His mother sat near a low table under the dim glow of an oil lamp. A shawl rested over her shoulders as she slowly sorted through a small box of prayer beads.
Her sharp eyes lifted the moment he entered.
Mother: Hm. The emperor visiting his mother at night.
She clicked her tongue softly.
Mother: Either the kingdom is collapsing, or you want something.
Chandraveer remained calm.
Chandraveer: I want to ask you about grandmother.
Her fingers stopped moving.
Mother: Your grandmother?
She gave a dry, irritated laugh.
Mother: Why in the world would you want to ask about that woman now?
Chandraveer said nothing.
She sighed and leaned back.
Mother: I don't know much about her.
She waved a dismissive hand.
Mother: And frankly, I never cared to.
Chandraveer frowned slightly.
Chandraveer: You lived in the palace with her.
Mother snorted.
Mother: Lived around her, perhaps.
She picked up another bead.
Mother: That woman was rarely seen in the palace.
Chandraveer: Rarely?
Mother: Days… sometimes weeks she would disappear.
She shrugged coldly.
Mother: No explanations. No announcements.
Her voice carried clear irritation.
Mother: And your grandfather allowed it like a fool in love.
Chandraveer watched her carefully.
Mother continued with a scoff.
Mother: When I first arrived here as a bride, I tried to greet her properly.
Her eyes narrowed slightly at the memory.
Mother: She barely looked at me.
She clicked her tongue again.
Mother: Rude woman. Always acting as if the rest of us were beneath her notice.
Chandraveer: Did anyone know where she went?
Mother shook her head.
Mother: No.
She leaned forward slightly.
Mother: But the palace was full of whispers.
Her voice lowered slightly.
Mother: People said she came from somewhere far away… somewhere strange.
She shrugged again.
Mother: I never bothered chasing those rumors.
Then she looked at Chandraveer sharply.
Mother: Why are you asking about her now?
Chandraveer paused for a moment.
Images of the pavilion and the letters flashed in his mind.
Chandraveer: I found a place in the palace today.
Mother raised an eyebrow.
Chandraveer: A hidden pavilion.
For the first time, she looked slightly interested.
Mother: Hm.
She tapped her finger against the table.
Mother: That might explain something.
Chandraveer: Explain what?
Mother sighed impatiently.
Mother: Years ago, servants whispered about a place in the gardens where your grandmother used to go.
She waved her hand dismissively.
Mother: I assumed it was nonsense.
Then she narrowed her eyes at him.
Mother: So the rumors were true.
The lamp flame flickered between them.
Mother leaned back again, clearly losing interest.
Mother: If that place belonged to her, I'm not surprised.
She muttered bitterly.
Mother: That woman always carried mysteries around her like jewelry.
She looked at Chandraveer one last time.
Mother: Just make sure whatever secrets you dig up don't bring trouble into this palace again.
The room fell silent.
And for the first time that night, Chandraveer wondered just how much of his grandmother's life had truly been hidden from the entire royal family.
Scene – Chandraveer's Chamber
Night had settled deep over the palace.
Chandraveer's chamber was no longer calm.
Scrolls, palm-leaf manuscripts, scriptures, and old chronicles lay scattered across the large wooden table. Some were half-rolled, others stacked carelessly as if he had searched through them in haste.
A single oil lamp burned beside him.
Chandraveer carefully unrolled another manuscript.
It was a court record describing the reign of his grandfather, the great ruler who had defended the empire from the armies of the Umayyad Caliphate.
But it spoke only of victories.
Nothing more.
No personal details.
No mention of a mysterious queen.
He frowned slightly.
Another scroll.
Another chronicle.
Another poem praising the glory of the empire founded during the time of Nagabhata II.
But all of them sounded the same.
Battles.
Glory.
Honor.
The same heroic stories repeated again and again.
Chandraveer leaned back in his chair.
Chandraveer (thinking):If she truly lived in this palace… why does no one speak of her?
His eyes drifted to the small wooden box he had hidden earlier.
The sealed letter written in a language no one recognized.
He looked back at the scrolls covering the table.
If the pavilion belonged to his grandmother… then the answer had to exist somewhere in history.
He reached for another manuscript.
The lamp flame flickered as he began reading again.
Page after page.
Line after line.
Searching.
Somewhere in the forgotten corners of history…
A truth had been buried.
And Chandraveer had no intention of letting it remain hidden.