The night had spread its sheets of blanket and enveloped the sky with its pitch-black darkness, shimmering with the stars studded across it.

Desert stretching as far as eyes roamed and much beyond that, had taken a dropping shift in the temperature.

As the clock ticked off and night rose to its full glory, the desert turned colder. The wind became icy cold and the particles of sand which were its uninvited acquaintances, often grazed over the skin with the harshness of sandpaper.

Rudra slid down the glass of the window to greet the icy cold air, not minding the dusty companions it brought along.
To him, the fragments resembled the verses of lamenting sorrow of a poem or perhaps, the messengers bringing along the bits and pieces of brewing conspiracy that was being weaved in the desert's lap.

The second thought was more inviting to him. 

Rudra's lips twisted up into a grin.

Apparently, people knew what he wanted them to know.

The sham of being out of the state had been fabricated immaculately, wherein reality, Rudra's convoy had already breached the borders of Jodhpur.

This was no false news, to be precise.

Rudra did board his chartered plane and land in Ahmedabad.
He did attend the meeting, successfully cracking the deal within a time span of 2 hours. Now, that was the point from where his deceiving tactics started.

He spent just two hours in Ahmedabad; nothing more, nothing less.

For everyone to know, Rudra was still in Ahmedabad, no return flight taken.

The cars dashed past the dusty roads of Jodhpur. The royal squad had done well in making 8 hours strenuous journey negligible to the onlookers.

For the nation knew, Vijayendra Pratap Rathore had every possible thing under his control in Rajasthan, except this particular royal squad.

The squad's loyalty lied with the Crown Prince, not the king.

"The whisper of mind's ploy must not even reach your other organs, much less to the people around."

The words voiced out in his past were instilled deeper into Rudra, much deeper that it would have inarguably exceeded the orator's expectations.

"Ah! Ritambhara," Rudra muttered under his breath.

His eyes flashing with stark darkness that even made night recoil with apprehension, focused upon the path ahead.

"The heart again wants to lose itself in your embrace. The need to see you finally arose, Ritambhara."

The words rolled off his tongue, dipped in the nectar of honeysuckle.

His eyes turned cold, colder than the desert itself.

He had left so much unattended back in Jaipur, but the need for this was far stronger.

The corners of his lips lifted up as soon as the faint structure of the citadel graced his line of sight.

The huge doors were pushed apart using the lever which still required four men at the minimum.

Ritambhara Mahal bathed in lights, stood proud in the middle of Thar desert.

The grandeur and splendor of its structure didn't seem to fade with time. The monstrosity of its structure coming second to only Rathore Palace, had always been Rudra's fascination.

Ritambhara Mahal still held unto the ancient architecture and culture, where on the other hand, Rathore Palace had been more modernized to suit the taste.

The carved designs on the walls till date, spoke tales of warfare and the premises within the doors of palace, still resounded with victorious blow of conches.

Rudra's eyes gleamed as he took in the view of palace, his palace.

Ritambhara Mahal was one of the major assets of his forefathers which had been passed down generation to generation.
So, it did come out unexpected when Rudra's grandfather decided to sign off the ownership of Ritambhara to his grandson, who had been but a three-year old toddler.

Perhaps, something in the crown prince had caught his ages-experienced eyes.

The thundering steps of guards bounced the walls of entrance as they lined up, bowing deep in Rudra's presence.

An ever vigilant Bhairav, tailed behind Rudra whereas others of the royal squad stationed themselves among the Ritambhara Mahal's guards.

There she was, not a bit aged than what he remembered.

The unmistakable poise and grace that was to be expected from the Queen mother, Ratnaprabha Pratap Rathore, didn't fade with time.

Decked up in a white silk saree hemmed with golden embroidery and her silver hair swept in an elegant hairdo; she was in fact, a vision that no one had ever been able to match.

Her lips curled up minutely, not yet giving into a smile.

Taking the welcoming plate from a maid, she circled it round Rudra's face.

As the earthen lamp lit the golden flames in the brown pools, steadily Ratnaprabha let her lips stretch a bit more.

Rudra bent down to touch her feet.

"May the victory bow down to you," she spoke, keeping her hand over his head.

Her voice, a strange mixture of authority and sweetness.

Rudra smirked. She didn't change a bit, nor did her blessings.

Ratnaprabha had never asked God to bless him with long healthy life or happiness, no.
She had always prayed for the  victory to bow down to him or the enemy to grovel at his feet.

"What brings the crown prince back to his forgettable grandmother?" She asked, every trace of smile leaving her face.

Rudra smile. "Rudra wouldn't be Rudra if he didn't come back here, would he?"

"Rudra Pratap Rathore," she murmured.

"The one and only, grandma," Rudra completed, offering his arm for her to hold on.

Ratnaprabha complied and graciously took the offer.

They walked further into the corridors.

"So, how is everything back in Jaipur?" Ratnaprabha questioned.

Rudra chuckled in apparent amusement.
"I know you well to know, that you have your spies implanted within Rathore Palace, grandma," he said.

"I didn't expect any less," she voiced out.

Ratnaprabha stopped when they reached her favourite lawn.
"And?" She spoke without facing Rudra.

"I am supposed to be out of the state. Ahmedabad," he answered her unasked question, burying his hands into his pockets.

Ratnaprabha finally met his gaze, "I presume, you travelled by road, didn't you?" She asked.

Rudra didn't say anything, the upward curve of his lips gave away everything.

"You never fail to impress me," she chortled.
"Anyway, I have made the arrangements for your stay in the western wing... "

"East," Rudra intervened.

He turned around, his eyes roaming the lawn.
"I always prefer the eastern wing, grandma."

Ratnaprabha sighed, "Always the stubborn but expected."

"Here, Moti will take care that you are shown your chamber," she said, pointing towards a man who seemed to appear out of thin air. His face showed nothing but admiration.

Rudra nodded once and started walking upstairs, on his way to the eastern wing.

"Rudra."

The voice of his grandmother halted him in his steps.

"Join me for the the dinner?" She asked, sounding a little skeptical.

"As you wish," Rudra replied  and without further delay climbed up the stairs.

.
.
.

Nothing had changed.

The walls, the carvings, the low hung chandeliers, the wide galleries and squeaky clean marble flooring, nothing changed.

Perhaps, it was him who had changed, not really though.

An airy giggle rang in his ears, followed by a vivacious laughter.

"Catch me if you can."

The voice trailed off in a fit of giggles before losing its way in the surrounding.

Rudra's eyes trained forward. Moti was bouncing on his feet, eagerly informing him something. Half of his words didn't even reach Rudra.

"Do you think you can? Haha."

The voice drawled off from behind the walls, again followed by a vivacious laughter.

The giggles, the laughter; with each step, the voice rose an octave. It didn't seem to stop, not until...

"Here we are, my lord."

In an instant, the cheerful voice got sucked in an invisible room, presumably locked for the time being.

Rudra smiled.
"Thank you."

Moti beamed widely.
"It's my honour to serve you, your highness. I'm sure you will love the new arrangements done to your chamber. Queen mother looked into every detail, personally."

"Is it?"

Rudra didn't quite bother to say anything else.

He was far too deep into his thoughts. 

His visit to Jodhpur wouldn't remain unfound. It was but a matter of time when this news reached his father's ears.

However, Rudra knew he would be back in Jaipur until then.

Meanwhile, his absence had already led many to come out of the shadows. Rudra's eyes glinted with mirth, probably that was why it had to be done. He would prefer to lay back and watch them unraveling.

"I would like a fresh change of clothes, Moti," Rudra said.

It was time to join his grandmother for the dinner.

.
.
.

The dinner went as well as it could have been. None of them, was eager to trigger a conversation.

Although the way Ratnaprabha's eyes kept trained on Rudra, didn't go unnoticed by him.

Currently, they were sitting in one of her favourite lawns inside the palace.

"How is everyone?" Ratnaprabha asked.

"You know," Rudra said, resting his chin upon his clasped fingers.
"But still, everyone's good I think."

Rudra stared at her from periphery.
"As good as it can get, before an impending storm," he concluded.

Ratnaprabha let her shoulders rest against the chair.
"I know," she hummed in agreement.

"How is... Rajwanta?"

Her words had a faint trace of defiance.

Rudra's lips twitched, he suppressed the smirk.

"Hmm... Like the current Maharani (Queen) should be. You don't seem much pleased, grandma?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Ratnaprabha said, a humorless smile gracing her face.

"And that step-brother of yours, what about him?"

Rudra grinned, letting it shadowed by his fingers.

"Peachy."

"I don't like him," Ratnaprabha stated.

That was it, she always condemned a person openly.
Once a person got into her bad books, they would remained an eyesore to her.

An eyesore which according to her when pricked too much, needed to be eliminated.

"But he is my brother," Rudra said, his eyes glinting with an inexplicable zeal.

"And you've to love him, grandma."

Ratnaprabha scoffed but didn't argue.

"Why do I think, this is more than just a pleasant visit, Rudra?" She spoke, her gaze settled upon him for scrutiny.

Rudra gave her one of his smug smiles.

"What do you don't know? Nothing can be kept hidden from you, ever."

"You, maybe," Ratnaprabha interjected.

"Are you hiding something from me, Rudra?" She asked, furrowing her brows.

Rudra chortled, "Don't know grandma, am I?"

After-a-while he composed himself, returning back to his former position.

"I don't need to hide anything," he uttered.

"And if I decide to hide anything, I doubt anyone will ever find it, not until I want."

His thoughts remained unspoken.

Silence encompassed them, none of them uttered a word.

Rudra shifted and got up.

"I think it's time to retire for the night. Do you want me to accompany you to your room?"

Ratnaprabha shook her head in negation.

"I would like to be left alone for few minutes. It gives me peace of mind," and time to ponder, her unspoken words somehow reached Rudra.

"If that is what you want. Though, I'm stationing a guard here. Don't spend too much time here, it's getting colder," Rudra said in a commanding undertone.

.
.
.

Back inside the confinements of his chamber, Rudra got all the more reasons for his another sleepless night.

"I promise you."

The cheerful voice chirped, giggles ringing in his ears again.

Rudra let a rueful smile grace his face.

He made his way towards the the balcony, opening to the view of the great Thar desert.

The wind was harsher and colder than usual.

"Time for the deads to rise from the river in which their ashes were drowned, not deep enough."

His words cut the thick silence, tearing it open and inflicting a deep wound.

.
.
.

Somewhere faraway, a room was drenched in darkness.

A single flicker from lighter ignited the cigar, lighting its end with crimson glow.

"There was a little girl," a voice sang in the dark, its owner but a silhouette due to the single shaft of light, peeping through the curtains.

"... like a princess, she was dolled in shimmery shiny dresses,
Never was she the one to complain and nag,
A darling of her parents"

"Foolish parents! Witty girl.
Foolish parents! Witty girl... "

The silhouette hunched a little and sniggered.

"Never really knowing, that under the naive exterior of their doll, was growing an evil monster.
Craving for the blood of people around,
She killed and drank the blood roaming around."

"Monster, she was. An evil one,
Who didn't even spare her parents one night,
They couldn't possibly outrun,
For their blood became her soul-less flight."

The dark figure reached out for something.

The single shaft illuminated a chess piece, the queen.

"Time for my return," the voice turned deeper, almost grave.

It was undeniably a masculine voice.

"Won't you welcome me, Rudra?
I am back, my boy. Let's wreck havoc."

Boisterous laughter echoed the dark room.

Two pieces lied on the floor, two pieces of the same chess piece; the queen snapped into two.

*****

A/N: Ritambhara Mahal is fictional. There is no such place in Jodhpur.