A girl with a gift to see the future...
A prince burdened with a crown...
A brother fated to take a brother's life...
A princess seeking love...
A tale that twisted their lives together...
Cover credits to @lucky03m
This is actually a birthday gift to one wonderful friend, beautiful soul lucky03m. I'm planing to end Vajra on this run. Therefore expect some regular updates until we reach the end destination. Happy birthday Lucky!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
🎄....🎄
Odor of death lingers in the lavish chambers maintained in Anjani Queen's name. It is prominently decorated in red, gold brocade hanging from the large bed which does nothing but highlight how frail and degenerated the woman lying among several feathered pillows looked. For some reason this Aunt she has never met seemed to have anticipated this meeting much more than Swara would have expected to. Taking help from a shrewdly gray eyed older lady the Queen sits back as they approach.
"Where is he?" She asks, and ignoring her reaches out a frail bony arm to Megha, her eyes brim. "I never thought.... I didn't dare hope to see you once before I die. My boy! My child!"
Megha drops to his knees by her side, holding that hand. Collapsing more from the shock of this sudden revelation than anything else. The Queen looks at Swara noticing her surprise only after she has had her fill of her first born.
"I've been contacted by the Crown Prince of Vajra. He is a man of such precise words. That is how I knew."
Swara nods, taking the seat offered to her, watching as Megha fumbles with his words.
"How do you - how can you be certain that I am -" The Queen caresses his face.
"Don't you feel it?" She asks softly. "Our powers singing to each other?"
Megha closes his eyes to her touch, and the woman hums gently. Swara looks away, her throat closing as she tries to swallow the longing that swells up within her. They shared more than powers that sang to each other. One only had to look at them, to note the similarities in their features. The same noses, same foreheads, hair that curled the same way. She notices only belatedly that the Queen's attention has shifted to her. The older woman reaches out her free arm, the one not embracing her son and beckons her.
"Come here, child," she says gathering Swara into an unfamiliar soft hug. It brings out a thick, suppressed sob out of her. Swara burrows herself into that bony embrace and allows those tears to burn her eyes.
Megha puts a hand on her head, patting gently.
"Hush child," the Queen murmurs. "You've done good. You've done well. You have made your mother proud." She presses a kiss thickly scented of herbs on her crown and turns to her son.
"You must pay her back," she tells her son then. "For restoring you - you must restore her. Give her, her proper place as a princess of Padmapeeta."
Swara pulls back from her hug and stares at her aunt, understanding dawning upon her.
"You made a deal with him." She states, finality of her voice making the Queen smile.
"Nothing means more than seeing my child..." Then she moves suddenly, clapping her hands to signal her ladies in waiting who had vacated the room previously to give them some privacy.
