"It is said that eons ago, when evil ventured the beautiful lands of mortals, spreading darkness and plague, terrorizing men, polluting the atmosphere with their demonic essence in their wake, cries of mercy rang across the skies. The demons feasted on the flesh of young and chewed the bones of old. Blood and corpses flooded the rivers. Tormented souls wandered in search of a safe solitude.

As time passed, these servants of darkness, the powerful and rowdy monsters established their empire in the mortal realm. As greedy, they were, in a few years decided to strike the realm of lesser gods. The sudden outbreak took the gods by surprise and scared they rushed to the asylum of lords of the universe.

Shiva, Vishnu, and Brahma

The lesser gods prayed and begged for their help. Hearing the weeping crowd and watching the chaotic armies of sinful fiends, the three concluded, they are otherwise powerless to overcome this. In the end, embodying their collective energy, they created a female who was derivative from the male divinities and the true source of their inner power. She was named Durga. Born fully grown and beautiful, with 8 to 10 arms, each holding a weapon of one of the gods, who gave them to her for her battle against the cruel army, Durga presents a fierce menacing form to her enemies. Sitting on the back of a lion, she assures the gods about victory and marches to the battlefield alone.

Her prowess was otherworldly, as she crushed the monsters beneath her feet, slew many using the sword, and pierced hearts with bow and arrows. Hearing her thunderous roars, a few fainted and a few ran away. The watchful king of monsters when saw this unknown adventuress cutting heads of his demons, he lost his patience and jumped on the battlefield to finish her. Nobody ever stood against his army before, not even those gods. The scene of a heroine barreling against the army of thousands was unusual..."

"GAURI... GAURI..."

The sudden intrusion earns a round of profanities from the huddled group of children. They all turned away from their favorite storyteller and regarded the fussing elderly woman with a stink eye. The chubby woman was marching hurriedly in their direction with a mission. Her one hand was holding the front of her long skirt while the other was curled around a leather slipper. The storyteller under the banyan tree gasped in surprise and the next moment screamed in shock as the old woman aims the slipper in her direction. Ducking low, preparing the line of kids as a shield, she ran away from the site and made a beeline towards the gentle river where she had kept three earthen vessels of refrigerant water.

Once again, she forgot about her job and got swayed with childish excitement.

"Here you are, devilish girl. I have been looking for you in the entire village. Have you lost your mind? You were supposed to fetch water three hours ago. What are you still doing here? The goats are thirsty." The woman yelled in distress and lifts one of the earthen pots, not before planting a light smack on her daughter's head. The young girl passes her an innocent look, ignoring the snickers of troublemakers nearby. They were taking pleasure out of it.

"I am sorry, ma. It wouldn't happen again."

Her small voice earns a tired sigh and the mother finally relaxes a bit.

"Never disappear on me like that again. I got so worried. Your father won't be happy if he hears about this. And better clean those mud stains off your clothes and forehead. It seems like you were hit by a hurricane. For god's sake, start behaving like the other girls of your age. When are you going to grow up? Your father is already searching for a suitable groom and let's not forget, two of your friends got married last month and another gave birth to a boy..."

The young girl rolls her hazel orbs and swiftly puts one pot on her head and adjusts another on her waist. Together, the duo walks home. Throughout the path, the mother continues the lecture whereas the girl daydreamed.

It was a regular phenomenon.

Gauri, daughter of a small farmer was everything her mother subjected to naïve and foolish. At 19, where the other girls in the village were off to their husband's home or taking care of household chores, she was still following her childish routine and telling legends punctuated by her grandmother.

'It is the fault of that old hag.'

Rukmani, Gauri's mother cursed in her mind. Sumitra, her mother-in-law adored Gauri and encouraged her mischief. Being the only child of the family and that also a daughter, Gauri should've attained a level of maturity and queasiness by now. But no, the fox had to come out as a daredevil and poke wrong hives. Rukmani was aware of her daughter's dual nature. At home, in front of her father and grandmother, she behaves like a holy cow and as soon as she steps outside, becomes a fireball. The neighbors often complain about her endeavors in their fields where she was caught stealing mangoes and other fruits and later sharing them with her troublesome group composed of individuals half her age. She was loud and had a bit of temper, which proved out to be useful at times. All the boys in village fear her after she dunked the face of a scornful guy, who used to tease other girls, in burning coal.

Only God knows how her father still doesn't know about this. She lacked the courage to disclose her daughter's adventures in front of that ferocious man. He will surely scold her in place of his spawn.

This fierce, wicked, and clever fox wearing a mask of innocence couldn't fool the vigilant eyes of poor Rukmani, who had no idea how to deal with her. The truth is, she gave up a long time ago and accepted she wasn't blessed with the cool rays of a full moon but the burning fire of the Sun. Whoever offended her daughter, will leave with a life lesson.

When the familiar sight of humble abode came in view, their strides quicken. Three decent huts made of hay roof and solid mud walls stood proudly on a decent land. Beautiful, detailed, and fresh Mandana paintings were drawn on the walls and floor of the house to protect home and hearth, to welcome the gods into the house, and ward off the evil. A rich barn stood right next to the last hut for seven goats and two cows.

Curiosity danced in Rukmani and Gauri's eyes noting three men standing in front of their house and conversing with Kishan Singh. Rukmani's heart started beating faster. They were debt collectors.

Last year, due to heavy rain and hail, the crops suffered badly and farmers faced a heavy loss. To conjure up basic needs in times of crisis, they turned to wealthy moneylenders. In her mind, Rukmani prayed for Kishan having enough to pay this month and save their dignity. She won't mind sleeping empty stomach for a few days. This time will pass as well.

As the distance between them decreased, she heard furious voices. Kishan Singh stood with his shoulders slumped, a look of defeat overshadowed his otherwise jovial face. He listened to the collectors silently and nodded briefly. One of the men pointed a finger at him and pushed his chest.

"Baba..."

Gauri muttered urgently and prepared herself to intervene but her mother held her elbow and pulls her back gently.

"Wait for a few minutes."

Marching confidently inside, ignoring the arrogant entities hounding her doorstep, she puts the earthen pot on the verandah and disappears into one of the huts. Rummaging through old wooden boxes, she retrieves a bundle of small bills from under the pile of clothes. Taking a deep breath, Rukmani once again follows the shouts and approached the one who still had his hand on her husband's collar.

"Here is your money. Now leave and next time when you come here, show some respect. I will not tolerate such a nuisance. If you are an educated man, behave like one rather than rubbing your foolishness like thugs."

The iron in Rukmani's tone dries debt collectors' throats. They counted the bills twice and founding it appropriate left with a red face. Kishan Singh turns towards his wife with a raised brow.

"From where did you get that money?"

He clearly remembered not sparing her even a dime from the past two years. Rukmani regarded him silently for a few seconds then sighs.

"It came from selling cow and goats' milk. I was saving for years for Gauri's dowry. But no worries, I will catch up to the lost sum in the next four months. You must remain focused this year to gain our lost fortune back." Rukmani supplied with a fake smile and pulls him towards the verandah where her mother-in-law was singing religious hymns with her friends. The group of old devotee clap in rhythm. Gauri sneaks behind Sumitra and hugs her. A brilliant smile graces the wrinkly face of the lady and she raises her hands to cup Gauri's pink cheeks.

"My princess has returned. Come here, sit with me, we are about to begin a tale of Mahadeva."

Rukmani scoffed and drags her exhausted feet towards the kitchen. She could have used some help in preparing the meal.

Vibrant hazel eyes with a hue of silver stared back at curious obsidian orbs daringly. Hooked brows, sharp nose, round cheeks, full lips, and an angled jaw. All the regal features were woven in the same face leaving not even a beauty spot behind. Long and silky brown mane ran down her back like waves of a river.

Impressed, the Queen Mother of Rajwada Palace hums. Her undivided focus remained on the picture of a beauty offered by the Royal Priest. He sat in front of her with his back straight and neutral expression. Silently reading the questions circulating in the old queen's stance.

"Born on Poornima of Rohini nakshatra, when the full moon is in the eye of red bull, the girl will be truthful, will not covet to the property of other men, will have clean habits, of sweet speech, of firm views and fine appearance, following religious and moral principles.

Rohini nakshatra's associated star is Aldebaran, Lord is Moon, Symbol is Banyan Tree, Deity is Brahma- the creator and Zodiac sign is Gemini.

According to astrological calculation, the girl born in Rohini nakshatra is highly compatible with the firstborn of family in Mrigashira Nakshatra that is a symbol of creative source of the female snake."

Slipping the picture in an envelope, she seals it. In place of returning it to awaiting priest, she hands it over to her trusted old handmaiden- Ambika. A look of uncertainty crosses his face and he slowly roll the worn-out scriptures and panchang before thrusting them in a large sling bag carefully.

"I take it, the girl has intrigued her highness."

"Only time will tell, Damodaran. For now, give us more details." The coke quaint held little to no room for hesitation and in the next second, Pandit Damodaran Bharadwaj parroted the history of the girl in picture.

"Her name is Gauri Singh.

Age- 19

She is the daughter of local farmers Kishan Singh and Rukmani Devi, permanent resident of Shivpuri village, some 200 kilometers from here. Their forefathers have invested their lives in surveying and taking care of fields. The family is poor but their background is clean. Villagers vow on Kishan's honesty and call him an independent and self-righteous man. This girl, Gauri is popular among folks for her unique way of legendary storytelling. She finished her school education in commerce with flying colors but didn't get a chance to pursue higher studies, mainly because of financial problems.

In my opinion, the girl is quite insignificant to become bride of a royal family, moreover better half of his highness. The King has finished his education in England and is now taking care of the family business. This match is unsuitable at various degrees. I recommend looking at other available options."

Pandit Damodaran had to remind her of the difference in status. It mattered. She was a poor village girl with no mapped future whereas the soon- to- be- groom was a King.

The Queen Mother's lips twitched before she looked at him unfazed.

"It is solely my decision that to whom he shall marry. As for the status, I could care less as long as the nakshatra of this girl is compatible with my son- Yagyavardhana Rana's. It is a waste to prolong this decision or spend time in changing my mind unless you could find another girl of similar astrological conceptions before the end of this month."

Damodaran purses his lips in a thin line. There was no going back now because children born in this divine position of stars are rare. Even if they are born under such conditions, they are mostly males and girls of the not right age.

'Curse the fate.'

He mentally bellows before cleaning his throat and nodding once at the eagle glaring down at her prey.

"As you say, Queen Vasundhara. I will take your message to Shivpuri and inform the girl's parents about the news personally. In the meantime, my disciples will look for more options. Pass my regards to the King. I must take my leave now."

The priest collects his belongings and makes a beeline towards the door. His shoulders hunched forward due to the weight of a heavy gaze of Vasundhara- the Queen Mother of Rajwada Palace. Once he disappears, the loyal handmaiden pierces the silence with a burning question.

"Do you trust this man?"

Vasundhara smiles, peace settles in her heart. The majority of her stress got diffused after the auspicious news served by the priest.

"He has never disappointed me before."