i Agnijeet uchit keh rahe hain. Abhi aakraman karna sahi nahi hoga. Hamari sena ko bhi bhaari nuksaan hua hai. Agar hum bache-kuche sainik lekar gaye, toh peeche kuch nahi bachega."
(I have no objection to invading, Maharaj. If it is your command, I will leave tomorrow. Howi Agnijeet uchit keh rahe hain. Abhi aakraman karna sahi nahi hoga. Hamari sena ko bhi bhaari nuksaan hua hai. Agar hum bache-kuche sainik lekar gaye, toh peeche kuch nahi bachega."
(I have no objection to invading, Maharaj. If it is your command, I will leave tomorrow. Howi Agnijeet uchit keh rahe hain. Abhi aakraman karna sahi nahi hoga. Hamari sena ko bhi bhaari nuksaan hua hai. Agar hum bache-kuche sainik lekar gaye, toh peeche kuch nahi bachega."
(I have no objection to invading, Maharaj. If it is your command, I will leave tomorrow. However, Commander Agnijeet is speaking correctly. Launching an attack right now will not be right. Our army has also suffered heavy losses. If we take our remaining soldiers, nothing will be left behind.)
A low murmur rippled through the courtiers. The ministers exchanged brief glances. Everyone in the hall silently understood the cold game that had just played out.
Suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of hurried footsteps. A scout rushed into the hall from behind the pillars, bypassing the court guards.
He sprinted straight toward the royal gallery where the allies sat, leaning down to whisper into the ear of the Crown Prince of Suryakot, that had fought alongside Mewar.
The Prince of Suryakot, Devendra, was an observant man who shared a complex dynamic with Agnijeet, they were neither true friends nor outright enemies, but they held a calculated respect for each other.
Devendra's eyes widened slightly at the scout's words. A dark smile spread across his lips as he stood up from his seat. He walked down the stairs, stepping toward Agnijeet.
Devendra placed a hand on Agnijeet's blood-stained shoulder, looking up at Durgpal.
"Koi baat nahi, Maharaj. Suryakot ki sena ka bhi bhaari nuksaan hua hai. Par Senapati khaali haath nahi laute. Agnijeet apne saath ek ladki ko lekar aaye hai. Achha kiya aapne, Senapati... kuch toh jeet kar le aaye."
(It does not matter, Maharaj. Suryakot's army has also suffered heavy losses. But the Commander did not return empty-handed. Agnijeet has brought a girl back with him. You did well, Agnijeet... at least you brought something back as a victory.)
The entire Raj Sabha froze. A dead silence descended upon the grand hall.
Devendra maintained his loose smile, his tone dripping with a careless arrogance.
"Senapati... us ladki ko main apne sath Suryakot le ja raha hoon. Mere mahal mein daasiyon ki thodi kami hai."
(Commander... I am taking that girl with me to Suryakot. My palace is running a bit short on maidservants.)
Agnijeet simply locked his murderous gaze onto Devendra, his silence carrying the terrifying weight of a predator ready to snap a neck. "Sochna bhi mat, Devendra. Kal ranbhoomi mein kam rakt nahi baha ki aaj Mewar ki Raj Sabha ko bhi rakt se nahlana pade."
(Don't even think about it, Devendra. Not enough blood was shed on the battlefield yesterday that we must drown Mewar's royal court in blood today.)
A collective gasp rippled through the courtiers. The Commander had just openly threatened the Crown Prince of an allied kingdom, right in front of the King.
Durgpal leaned forward as his face turned dark with fury, his voice shaking with a rage.
"Agnijeet! Apne shabdon par kaabu rakhiye! Aap humari sabha mein ek Yuvraj ko dhamki nahi de sakte!"
(Agnijeet! Control your words! You cannot threaten a Prince in our court!)
Devendra's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, his throat tightening before he forced out a hollow laugh to cover his sudden unease. He stepped a fraction away. "Aap kya karenge us ladki ko rakhkar, Senapati? Aapko toh keval talwaaron ki dhaar se prem hai."
(What will you even do with that girl, Commander? You are only in love with the edge of swords.)
Prince Sangram let out a sharp snicker, leaning back in his seat.
"Sahi kaha, Yuvraj. Hamare Senapati ko kab se mahilaon mein ruchi hone lagi? Ranbhoomi ke bhoot ko sundariyon se kya lena-dena?"
(Well said, Prince. Since when did our Commander develop an interest in women? What does a ghost of the battlefield have to do with beautiful ladies?)
Agnijeet's face remained a frozen mask of iron, but his right hand slowly slid down to the hilt of his sword, tightening with a deliberate crunch.
Devendra's eyes flew down to Agnijeet's knuckles. Recognizing the lethal muscle memory of a man about to slaughter, he instinctively took a panicked step backward.
Agnijeet did not pull the blade. He simply took a deep breath, his eyes cutting through Devendra before sweeping across the entire assembly, locking finally onto the King.
His voice was flat, carrying an ominous weight that shook the room.
"Ruchi nahi hai."
(It is not about interest.)
Then, he looked Devendra in the eyes.
"Woh Agnijeet Rathore ki pehli aur antim haar hai."
(She is Agnijeet Rathore's first and last defeat.)
The nobles stood frozen, their mouths slightly open. The terrifying Commander of Mewar, who had never known a single setback, had just claimed his prize out of a vengeful obsession with the only creature who had ever brought him down.
Agnijeet gave a mere tilt of his head. It was a formality so brief it bordered on absolute disrespect.
He turned sharply on his heel, his blood-stained back turned to the throne as he strode out, leaving the stunned court entirely behind him in the silence.
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