Rewari Kingdom , Bawal inner pace, night of 11th march 1557.

  The moonlight, though not full, cast a gentle radiance over the inner pace. A young woman, draped in a traditional ghaghra choli and a flowing white silk dupatta, sat thoughtfully by a window.

  Despite the view of the courtyard where the royal maids moved hurriedly for their tasks and the tree branch nearby where squirrels fought for the acorns in the oak tree, her vision was stuck on the partial moon as she was lost in thought. It was none other than Meenakshi who was upset with the recent turn of events.

  She had high expectations of Aditya, but they were shattered when she learned about the harsh measures he took against innocent citizens who weren't directly connected to the ambush. Eradicating entire lineages based on familial ties seemed unjustifiable to her. Although arrests were made, the numbers were minimal.

  Raised to believe that kindness is the virtue of a ruler, she had been taught to never act unjustly towards subjects. The recent reports of cruelty, particurly the hanging of women and children from trees, contradicted everything she held dear about him. This barbarity was in stark opposition to the values she was accustomed to in her own empire, where such practices were forbidden.

  She had an ominous feeling that something was going to happen, and she even tried to warn Aditya. But he defied her, even when she volunteered to support him in the vilge survey and took part in the battle.

  She knew she had no say in the matter, but somehow she felt cheated. Despite all her rage, her heart still clutched whenever she saw him. His passion for his subjects was evident when he worked tirelessly for two days until the vilgers were settled, which made her heart flutter.

  There were even times when she found it hard to stay there, but seeing him not budge from his tasks as he supervised all the reconstructions and rehabilitation of the surviving vilgers soothed her heart and made her forgive him. It was clear that he used to stand up for those whom he considered dear, and she wondered if he would fight for her as he strove for others.

  Punishing traitors was a just part of being a ruler, but killing women and children was not justified in her eyes. Even in her own empire, such practices were forbidden. They could have been exiled, but the cruelty of hanging them from trees was too barbaric. All this jumble of thoughts troubled her.

  She even questioned whether she was judging him too harshly. To her, Aditya was a mysterious and untamable beast who sometimes seemed docile and kind, with strength suited for a just ruler. Yet there were times when he took actions without batting an eye, actions that others would even take a moment to consider.

  She felt deeply puzzled about trusting him with the affairs of her empire. Perhaps the alliance still needed some time.

  Her chain or thoughts were interrupted as a familiar voice called her.

  "Your Highness, it's time for dinner," Akriti said softly, holding a pte of food. Her eyes were filled with concern, though her lips bore a faint smile.

  Meenakshi, still absorbed in her thoughts, barely gnced at Akriti. She sighed and turned her gaze back to the moon. "Please, Akriti, just leave it for today. I'm not in the mood to eat."

  Akriti approached and stood in front of her. "You haven't eaten anything since this evening, Your Highness. With everything that's happened, I doubt you've eaten outside."

  Meenakshi remained silent, continuing to ignore her request.

  Not willing to back down, Akriti persisted. "It seems you're deep in thought. Is something troubling you?"

  Meenakshi looked back at her maid, considering her words before asking, "Why are men so stubborn? Why do they act so rigidly?"

  Akriti, puzzled, replied, "I'm not sure about the specifics, Your Highness, but from what I've seen, men are very protective of their possessions. They'll do almost anything to keep them."

  Meenakshi considered this, her gaze drifting back to the moon.

  Akriti, after a moment's reflection, added, "I'm speaking from experience. I'm not only your maid but also a trained martial artist. Through my training and encounters, I've seen how men react. If I'm not mistaken, perhaps your heart is being stolen."

  Meenakshi started at the unexpected comment. "What do you mean, 'heart is stolen'?"

  With a teasing smile, Akriti expined, "Not eating, taking long hours of solitude, and being upset over unmet expectations are often signs of someone who has lost her heart."

  Meenakshi took a deep breath, lowering her gaze. Her voice was soft as she asked, "Do you think anyone could really like me?"

  Akriti's eyes widened at the revetion. She calmed herself before responding gently, "I would be more surprised if there were no one who liked you, Your Highness."

  Meenakshi turned to her with curiosity. "Then, if someone likes me, would they ignore my words?"

  Realization dawned on Akriti as she grasped the depth of Meenakshi's dilemma. "Perhaps the person's feelings are not as strong as their perceived duty. Maybe Your Highness needs to show more understanding and effort."

  Meenakshi fell into contemption, her expression thoughtful. Akriti pced a comforting hand on her shoulder and said, "But, Your Highness, above all, our concerns for the empire should come first."

  Meanwhile, in Aditya's Quarters

  The dim light of a flickering mp cast dancing shadows on the walls of Aditya's quarters. Seated cross-legged on a low footstool, Aditya hunched over a low table, quill in hand, the ink staining the tips of his fingers. His gaze was fixed on the parchment before him, yet his thoughts were far from the sketches of new weapon designs. The day's events weighed heavily on him, particurly Meenakshi's upsetting demeanor and her apparent naivety regarding the required measures he had taken.

  Aditya's irritation bubbled as he reflected on Meenakshi's reaction.

  Her insistence on showing mercy to those who had dared to collude against the royalty struck him as impractical, even dangerous. To him, offering them a chance to nguish in dungeons was more than sufficient mercy. Allowing such pests to survive in the name of humanity would be the greatest blunder he would never commit.

  At first, he was impressed by the southern empire for granting women rights in warfare and opportunities for leadership. However, witnessing their naive judgment, he felt utterly disappointed. It was no wonder that this very southern empire had been betrayed by the immigrants they had sheltered and shown mercy. These very people had colluded with invaders, leading to the empire's glory to meet bitter end.

  It was clear that arguing with Meenakshi about these principles was futile. He knew that to preserve the alliance, he had to temper his response and suppress his frustrations. But he couldn't deny the pained in his heart from her dampened mood.

  With a sharp exhale, Aditya cursed under his breath, "Tsk... Tsk... women..." He forced himself to refocus on his work, which now seemed more critical than ever in light of recent events.

  He realized that superior military technology was essential for maintaining his edge and ensuring his safety. Therefore, he decided to develop new weapons for his private army.

  Although he had intended to work on the flintlock mechanism, he deferred this project due to Meenakshi's extended stay. Instead, he concentrated on improving the artillery. Drawing on the effectiveness of grapeshot and canister shot, he noted their proven success in historical battles like Bunker Hill, Leipzig, and Waterloo. Grapeshot, with its scattered balls, and canister shot, with its dispersing metal container, offered versatile options for close and medium-range engagements.

  Reflecting on Napoleon's tactics, Aditya recalled how he had previously used skirmishers and musketeers in st battle. He contempted enhancing this approach, but the absence of grenadiers posed a challenge.

  An idea struck him,' It's time to develop my own grenades.'

  Given the complexity of manufacturing needle grenades, Aditya decided to create a simpler grenade design based on the grapeshot principle with a slow-burning fuse. He recalled a rudimentary form of tightly packed gunpowder bomb used at Panipat and envisioned a smaller, spherical device that could be hand-held.

  This new grenade design would feature a casing packed with spherical pellets capable of shattering and piercing with devastating effect. To ensure safety and effectiveness, it would include a long, durable fuse and require careful logistical storage. The design drew inspiration from early 17th-century European hand grenades, which used simir principles for dispersing shrapnel.

  Once he had completed the three new designs, Aditya's thoughts turned to restructuring his military. He contempted the need for an elite special force capable of working alongside spies for covert operations. Before he could delve further into this idea, his butler, Suresh Pal, interrupted with a respectful bow.

  "Your Highness, the King has summoned you to his chambers," Suresh Pal announced, his tone urgent yet polite.

  Aditya gnced out the window, noting the moon's ascent to its zenith. "Isn't it too early? It's almost midnight."

  Suresh Pal, maintaining his bow, responded, "The matter is urgent, Your Highness. The King's judgment is imminent and requires your immediate attention."

  Aditya sighed, reluctantly setting aside his designs. He gathered the scattered documents and carefully rolled them into a tube, stowing them away for ter. Standing up, he gave a terse nod to his butler. "Lead the way."