In the aftermath of the chaotic Ravan Dehan celebration, the air in Chittor Garh was thick with tension. Kunwar Pratap had barely managed to shield Chaand from the falling idol when the cacophony of panic subsided, leaving him breathless and filled with a sense of foreboding. He could still hear the echoes of the crowd’s screams, the scent of burning incense mingling with the acrid smell of fear.

As he rushed back to the palace, he found himself lost in thought. What had driven Jagmal to such reckless jealousy? Surely, he understood that their mother’s love could not be divided. Yet, the shadow of rivalry lingered in the air like a dark cloud, threatening to consume them all.