THE FINAL PIECE of THE DEAL

Harshal walked toward the throne. Each step was slow. Measured. The court did not breathe.

He stopped at the king's side. Turned. Faced the ministers. Faced Kumbhanda. Faced Chitralekha.

"I pledge my loyalty to the king." His voice was clear. Strong. The words filled the room. "And if anyone stands against me... has to face the king."

The king looked up at him. His expression was unreadable.The look of a man who had just been given a sword and did not yet know if it was pointed at his enemies or at his throat.

Harshal glanced down. Saw the face. Understood.

"Wait." A pause. "I mean, if anyone stands against the king... he has to face me."

The last word dropped. Deeper. Slower.

Me.

The room was still. The ministers did not move. Kumbhanda's eyes narrowed. Chitralekha's jaw tightened.

The king's expression shifted. The uncertainty faded. Something else took its place.

Safety.

Kumbhanda stepped forward. His old bones creaked, but his voice did not.

"My king, if you allow me... I would like to propose a duel with the kid."

The word kid landed like a stone.

Chitralekha moved before anyone could speak. "Dad, stop. Don't do this."

Kumbhanda did not turn. Did not look at her. "Did I ask you? I am asking the king."

The king sat straight. His crown was still crooked. His hands were still. He looked at Kumbhanda. Then at Harshal. Then back at Kumbhanda.

"No."

The word was calm. Final.

"He is already tired after fighting so many soldiers. And I don't think I would like to lose a powerhouse fighting a kid."

Harshal said nothing. His face was still. His hands were at his sides.

Kumbhanda opened his mouth.

The king raised a hand. "The matter is closed."

Kumbhanda closed his mouth. Bowed. Stepped back. His eyes stayed on Harshal.

Chitralekha exhaled. Her shoulders dropped. Just slightly. Just for a moment.

Harshal looked at the king. The man who had just refused a duel with the warrior who fought Krishna. The man who had just called him a powerhouse.

"Thank you," Harshal said. Quiet. Not humble. Just... there.

The king nodded. "Rest now. You will need your strength."

"For what?"

The king almost smiled. Almost.

"For whatever comes next."

The king looked at Harshal. His eyes were calm now. The uncertainty was gone. In its place, something quieter. Trust. Or the beginning of it.

"Go. Sleep in your quarters. You are no use to me exhausted."

Harshal nodded. Turned. Walked toward the door. Chitralekha moved to follow.

"And Chitralekha," the king said. "Assist him through the corridor. Make sure he does not collapse before he reaches the bed."

She bowed. Slight. Formal. "Yes, my king."

The corridor was long. Torches lined the walls. The flames did not flicker. Nothing in this palace flickered unless it was allowed to.

Chitralekha walked beside him. Her steps were sharp. Precise. Her voice was sharper.

"What were you thinking, huh?"

Harshal did not look at her. "What? I just said that I will protect him under all cost."

"Do you really mean it?"

The corridor stretched. The torches burned. Harshal kept walking.

"No. Why would I?"

Chitralekha stopped. Her boots clicked against the stone. "Then why did you say it?"

Harshal paused "Just to deceive him and not to get killed and even if he desired he can never"

Harshal stopped too. Did not turn. Did not face her.

"By the way, isn't your painting complete?"

Chitralekha blinked. The shift was sudden. But she had learned, years ago, that Harshal did not answer questions he did not want to answer.

"Yes. And we should leave for Jötunheim."

Harshal looked at the audience. His face was calm. His eyes were cold , waiting.

"We should."

The snow stretched forever. White. Slow. Patient. It had been here long before them and would be here long after.

The World Tree rose before them. Its trunk was a wall. Its branches were continents. Its roots split the earth like veins of a god who had bled ice instead of blood.

Harshal stopped. Looked up. His breath misted in front of his face.

"I didn't expect it to be this big."

Chitralekha stood beside him. Her eyes were wide. Her mouth was slightly open. The cold had reddened her cheeks. She did not speak. Did not move. The demon sister who had faced armies was stunned by a tree.

Harshal turned. "Sister. Are you there?"

She blinked. Once. Twice. The world came back into focus. "Yes. I am here." She looked at the trunk again. "Why is this tree so big?"

Harshal knelt. Pressed his hand to the snow. Felt the root beneath. Ancient. Pulses like a heartbeat, slow and deep.

"So to get to the well, we have to dig our way from the roots of the tree. And not disturb the Jötnar."

Chitralekha looked down at him. "The giants."

"Yes. They guard the roots. They do not sleep."

She knelt beside him. The snow crunched under her knees. "How do we dig without waking them?"