Before the Darkness

Chapter One: Before the Darkness

Once, my life was nothing short of a beautiful dream—full of laughter, warmth, and love.

I was blessed with a family that ruled not only a kingdom, but also the hearts of its people. My father, Raghav Singh, was the revered King of Udaipur, Rajasthan—a brave warrior and a wise ruler who led our kingdom with strength and compassion.

My mother, Queen Hemanshi Raghav Singh, was the very soul of the palace—graceful, intelligent, and kind. My elder brother, Prince Virendra, carried the weight of future responsibilities with pride—though not without the occasional eye-roll at our father's strict training sessions .

......And then, there was me—Princess Tara Raghav Singh. The youngest in the royal family, yet never treated as lesser.

Though tradition whispered that a girl must stay sheltered, my father’s heart beat louder than old customs. He trained me alongside my brother, teaching me the art of archery, horse riding, the complexities of rajniti (statecraft), and even ancient languages.......

At just eight years old, I devoured books like sweets, eager to learn everything—from meditation and history to old dialects and tales of warriors long forgotten.

My mother would often sigh as she watched me climb trees with my bow slung behind me, whispering to herself, “This girl is made of stars and stubbornness.”

Our palace echoed with laughter. I remember one evening, sitting beneath the grand peepal tree as the sun dipped behind sandstone towers. Father told us a story about a magical deer that led lost warriors home. My brother tried to scare me with a made-up ghost story afterward, but ended up shrieking when I placed a lizard on his shoulder. Even the guards laughed.

We had festivals where the whole kingdom danced beneath lantern-lit skies. Mother would braid jasmine into my hair, and Father would lift me high onto his shoulders during the celebrations, calling me his “little tiger.”

Everything was perfect. Our people were happy. Our family was united. The air in the palace always carried the scent of sandalwood and fresh marigolds, the sound of veena strings often drifting from the music hall.

It felt like nothing could go wrong.

But you know how life is. Even the brightest sun must someday set. And in stories like mine… happiness never lasts forever.

The morning sun bathed the Rajmahal in gold, casting intricate patterns through the jharokhas onto marble floors. The palace buzzed with excitement as preparations for my brother Virendra’s sixteenth birthday were underway.

I was so thrilled, I’d barely slept the night before.

Suddenly, a playful roar behind me made me jump—Virendra had been hiding, waiting to surprise me. We burst into laughter, our joy echoing through the halls.

After a breakfast of sweet jalebis and creamy kheer, we went to seek our parents’ blessings.

The palace priests had arranged a grand havan in honor of Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati.

As the day progressed, the palace transformed into a spectacle of festivity.

Among the arriving royals was King Rajvendra of Ramgadh—a formidable ruler, known for his conquests and strength.

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