The silence after the retreating footsteps was deafening. Satya, still gripping the fragile prison record, felt a chill run through him. Traitor. The word burned in his mind like a brand.
Saanvi's fingers hovered over the page. "This doesn't make sense. If Veer Meghawal was betrayed, why would they mark him as a traitor?"
Professor Raghav adjusted his glasses, his expression unreadable. "This isn't just an execution… This was a cover-up."
Satya's hands trembled as he flipped through the pages, desperate for more answers. His pulse hammered as he reached the next entry.
Crime: High Treason.
Judgment: Secret Trial.
Punishment: Execution within Rathore Estate.
His breath caught. A secret trial. Not a public execution, not a recorded judgment—this meant someone had wanted Veer's fate erased from history.
Virendra ran a hand through his hair, his voice hushed. "This doesn't add up. If Veer was a mere artist, why was he tried for treason? Who was behind this?"
Before anyone could answer, a sudden noise made them all whip around.
A single book, high on a nearby shelf, fell to the ground with a loud thud.
The room tensed.
Satya turned his flashlight toward the shelf. No wind. No movement. And yet, the book had fallen as if someone had pushed it.
Saanvi bent down, brushing dust off the cover. "This… isn't just any book."
She turned it over.
"The Lost Trials of the Rathore Court."
Virendra and Professor Raghav exchanged glances.
Satya swallowed. "The trials... Maybe this can tell us who was behind it."
As he flipped open the book, the pages were yellowed, some torn, but one thing stood out—
A folded parchment tucked between the pages.
He carefully pulled it out. The paper was old but intact, and as he unfolded it, the blood drained from his face.
It was a royal decree.
Signed by Maharaja Devendra Rathore.
Saanvi covered her mouth. "The king himself… sentenced Veer Meghawal to death."
Virendra's eyes darkened. "But why?"
Professor Raghav scanned the decree, reading the words aloud. "Convicted of sedition, consorting with an unnamed enemy, and conspiring against the throne." He looked up, his expression sharp. "This was no ordinary execution. This was a political murder."
Satya clenched his fists. His mind raced with images—Veer, shackled in the chamber, accused of a crime he didn't commit. Betrayed.
He turned to Virendra. "Your family has been protecting a secret for over a century. And now we're getting too close."
Virendra inhaled deeply. "Which means we're running out of time."
The words hung heavy in the air.
The enemy was watching.
And now, they knew exactly what Satya and Saanvi had found.