Chapter Twenty Nine

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Chapter Twenty Nine

The old court pandit (Hindu Priest) brought forward the holy water as Marah stood next to Yuvraj. She was still rattled about the entire ordeal with him, and she could still sense the anger in his features.

He looked so different. His royal sherwani with his sword in his hand and spectre in other. His magnificent crown suited his long hair combed back. He looked fierce and sharp at the same, his fear resonating in the eyes of the people that knew him.

His anger knew many shades, and she had only witnessed a few. But those few in itself shook her to her very core.

"Maharani (Great Queen) Marah Singh Shekhawat!" The pandit declared, after chanting a few mantras before he took out a big gold crown with intricate patterns. The entire thing was a beauty in itself.

Marah bowed down lightly, her head down as the crown was set on her head

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Marah bowed down lightly, her head down as the crown was set on her head. "Long may she reign!" He yelled out loudly and the crowd followed after, as Marah stood up.

The crown was heavy and with it's weight she could feel the pressure that came with it.  

She smiled at the chanting crowd as Yuvraj raised his sword up high, to calm down the people. The pandit drew out a dagger and Yuvraj turned, offering his arm without hesitation. The dagger touched his palm and a cut was made, that drew out his warm blood. The fire which received it burned with it's power. The pandit turned towards Marah.

Marah's body froze. Was she supposed to give out her hand too? Why didn't anybody tell her about it? Yuvraj should have, but he was too busy intimidating her.

She gave out her arm as the pandit slowly dragged the dagger on her palm, the pain seeping through.

She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to not react to the pain. It was too much, but at the same time nothing at all. Her blood dropped down and suddenly the fire blazed brighter, earning the cries of joys.

Marah stepped down, as two servants rushed to tie the wounds up. Yuvraj refused the bandage, as Marah stood quietly, looking at his bloody hand. Why was he angry?

She sighed, watching the maid tie the red cotton cloth around her palm tightly, and then both of them were leaded to their thrones.

Marah sat on her throne, looking at every one around. She could see the hate mingled with false pleasure, and she could sense something wrong with  Seharika's smile.

She looked away, at Yuvraj who looked like he belonged here, unlike her. Would she ever belong here? She wasn't sure. What was it like to be a queen? She didn't know. Much less of such a vast nation. 

The court ministers stepped in front, seven of them. They started to introduce themselves, and Marah nodded, trying to remember the names. Some seemed off to her, and she clubed them as the ones who didn't like her on the throne. Few of them were pleasant, trying to be on good terms with her.

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