Ch3The Weight of Legacy #3
Her voice trembled slightly, but she continued,
“You already know, Rudra… in our bloodline, every king the head of the family dies before the age of thirty. The only way to delay the curse is through marriage. But if that happens, the curse passes to his wife, and within one or two years, she dies instead,
giving up her life to protect her husband. So many queens… so many of our women have sacrificed their lives to protect both their kings and this kingdom.”
Rudraksh clenched his fists, his voice sharp,
“Dadi-sa, I know all of this. But I don’t believe in such blind superstitions. Tell me clearly… what is it you wish to say about my mother?”
Dadi-sa’s eyes softened with both pride and sorrow.
“Your mother left something behind for you, Rudra… a letter.”
Rudraksh’s eyes widened in shock.
“A letter? What letter, Dadi-sa?”
She nodded slowly.
“On the day you were born, your mother placed that letter in my hands. She said when Rudra grows strong enough to bear the weight of Vardhanpur, when he is ready to carry this kingdom on his shoulders only then should I give it to him.”
With trembling hands, Dadi-sa pulled out a fragile, timeworn letter.
She pressed it gently into Rudraksh’s palm, then placed her other hand on his head in blessing.
Without another word, she turned and left, leaving him standing there staring at the letter that carried the voice of the mother he had lost too soon.
With trembling hands, Rudraksh opened the fragile letter. The moment his eyes touched the familiar strokes of his mother’s handwriting, his chest tightened, his vision blurred with tears. Yet, swallowing the lump in his throat, he began to read…
In the letter
*My Rudra,
How are you, my son?
If this letter has found you, it means I am no longer in this world.
It means you will grow without your mother beside you…*
By the time his eyes traced these lines, tears had already slipped down Rudraksh’s face, but he forced himself to read on…
---
In the letter
*But I know my son… you are strong, just like your father once was.
And I, as your mother, must tell you what my heart always wished for you.
Rudra, you are my world. You are the heartbeat of Vardhanpur.
The moment you were born, I dreamt only one dream
to see you as the king of this land, to see you wear the crown with pride.
The people of Vardhanpur love our bloodline. They trust your father like they trust God Himself. One day, that same trust will rest upon your shoulders, my child.
And when it does, you must never let it fall.
Be the king who is remembered with love, not fear.
Be the ruler who shines brighter than your father ever could.
Let the world say ‘Rana Rudraksh Vardhan was greater than even his father.’
That, my son, is the last wish of your mother.
And when you marry, there will be another letter waiting for you—my words, once again, to guide you.
Never forget this, Rudra…
Your mother loves you more than her own life.
Even if you cannot see me, I am always there with you, in your every breath, in your every victory.
You are my son.
You are the son of Queen Agnishikha Vardhan and King Pratap Raj Vardhan.
You are… Rana Rudraksh Vardhan.*
With all my love,
Your Maa.
After reading the letter, Rudraksh hugged it tightly to his chest.
Who knew how many sorrows fate had written into his life?
First, he lost his mother in his childhood, and then he drifted apart from his father.
Fate had even thrust him into the shadows of the underworld.
And yet, now, for the sake of fulfilling his mother’s last wish, Rudraksh was ready to do whatever it took.
After a few moments, he carefully placed the letter aside and stepped out of his room. Approaching a trembling servant, he asked in his usual commanding tone, “Where is Maharaj?”
The servant stammered, bowing low, “Hukum… Maharaj is in the garden, sir.”
Rudraksh walked toward the garden, his posture straight and composed, his mind focused. As he entered, he stood before his father, tall and unflinching, a picture of readiness and resolve.
Pratap (Rudraksh’s father): “Rudraksh beta… you’re here?”
Rudraksh: “There’s no need to call me ‘beta.’ I’ve come only to say this whenever you feel the time is right, organize my Raj Tilak. I am ready to take on the responsibility of Vardhanpur.”
Hearing this, a rare smile broke across Pratap’s face. Relief and pride mingled in his eyes as he stepped forward to embrace his son. But Rudraksh, steady and firm, took a step back.
Rudraksh: “Also… I approve of the marriage. Whoever arrangements need to be made, you may proceed. That is my decision.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
Pratap felt a pang of regret that his son did not allow him to hug him, yet beneath the disappointment, there was an overwhelming sense of pride and joy.
Rudraksh had finally agreed he had accepted his responsibility, acknowledged the family’s legacy, and, in his own way, honored his mother’s last wish.
On the other side, Rivanya’s packing was finally complete. The entire family had gathered in her room, their faces heavy with sorrow at the thought of her departure. Even her aunt’s eyes were swollen from crying.
Rivanya: “What is all this gloom, everyone? Huh? I’m just leaving for a little while. I’ll come back as soon as I become a successful lawyer. Then I’ll set up my own office and law firm right here in Kashi. Nanu, Nani, Mama, Mami, Dhara…
are you all going to be this sad just because I’m leaving for a little while?”
Mamaji: “No,Our little girl is finally going to chase her dreams. Nobody should cry. Okay?”
Nana ji: “Yes, that’s right. But Rivanya, you won’t be staying at your father’s house. I’ve arranged a place for you in our Mumbai mansion. I’ve made the arrangements myself. There, you won’t face any problems. Understood?”
Rivanya: “Yes, Nanu.”
Time Skip
Rivanya stepped off the plane, collecting her luggage with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
As she emerged into the bustling city of Mumbai, the skyline greeted her with shimmering towers and a symphony of lights.
The streets were alive with the hum of cars and honking of horns, vendors calling out their wares, and the scent of street food mingling with the ocean breeze.
The city seemed endless skyscrapers reflecting the sunset like molten gold, the sea stretching beyond the horizon, and the streets bustling with people chasing their own dreams. Mumbai, the city of opportunities, of hopes and ambitions, welcomed her with open arms.
For Rivanya, this was more than a city; it was a canvas for her dreams, a place where she could carve her path and make a name for herself. Each step she took felt like the first step into her future, bright, challenging, and filled with endless possibilities.
Rivanya first took a taxi and headed straight to her Nanu’s Mumbai mansion.
As she arrived, she couldn’t help but marvel at the grandeur of the house.
The mansion was a perfect blend of classic elegance and modern sophistication.
White marble floors gleamed under the soft lights, and intricate carvings adorned the doors and windows.
The garden was a paradise in itself lush green lawns dotted with colorful flowers, a sparkling fountain in the center, and tall, swaying trees that gave the whole place a serene, royal charm.
Birds chirped softly, adding a delicate soundtrack to the tranquil atmosphere.
After freshening up, Rivanya prepared to head to her father’s house. Her Mama ji had arranged a beautiful car for her, complete with all the comforts she could need. She felt a rush of excitement as she stepped into the sleek, polished car, ready for the next chapter of her journey in Mumbai.
A little while later, Rivanya entered the Bedi mansion.
The moment she walked in, even the household staff couldn’t hide their delight.
Who could blame them? Rivanya was not just beautiful but carried herself with such charm and warmth that everyone she met immediately felt a connection with her.
She had that rare aura capable of winning hearts effortlessly, making everyone around her feel special.
As Rivanya stepped inside, she immediately noticed that the entire Bedi mansion was decorated like a grand wedding venue.
Her first thought was that perhaps her father had prepared it to celebrate her arrival.
The flowers, the lights, the sparkling decorations it all looked like a scene out of a royal celebration.
But soon, she learned the truth from one of the household staff. It wasn’t for her. The decorations were for her step-sister, Alisha Bedi, whose wedding to Rudraksh Vardhan had just taken place. The mansion was adorned to celebrate their union, and that’s why everything was in full festive splendor.
A wave of mixed emotions washed over Rivanya surprise, a tinge of disappointment, and a strange sense of detachment. She had come to Mumbai to start her new chapter, and yet the house reminded her that some things in life were already set in motion, leaving her to navigate her own path.