Chapter 2: Of Mud-Brick Towers and Marigolds

The white marble of the inner courtyard was always baking hot by midday, but if I crawled under the heavy, shadow-draped arches of the west corridor, the stone felt cool against my bare knees.

I was barely four years old, a tiny princess wrapped in a soft, lightweight tunic of pastel yellow cotton. My thick, dark hair was tied into two messy little tufts by my mother's maids, constantly bouncing as I hurried across the polished floors. In the quietest depths of my mind, a soft, unyielding shadow occasionally flickered—a distant memory of a past life where I had known what it felt like to be vulnerable, to be small, and to have my boundaries crossed in spaces that offered no protection. Because of those quiet, fading phantoms, an innocent childhood dream had taken deep root in my small chest from the moment I could think. I didn't want to just be a delicate princess; I harbored a deep, instinctive wish to build a home so structurally safe that no danger could ever breach its walls, and to learn how to physically defend myself and the people I loved, so that no one in my presence would ever feel helpless again.

But inside the grand walls of Sindhu-Varta, those serious thoughts were instantly swallowed by the overwhelming warmth of a real family. Here, I didn't have to carry the weight of the world; I was just a little girl learning to live, surrounded by a living wall of protective love.

"Shivsundari! Stop running, you will trip over your hem!"

A loud, frantic shout echoed down the pillared hallway. I didn't stop. I giggled, my small feet thudding against the stone as I rounded the corner into the private royal gardens.

Behind me, my third older brother, Karna, came skidding into view. At six years old, Karna was a ball of chaotic energy, his dark curls flying wild and his tunic permanently stained with purple berry juice or charcoal dust from the scribes' quarters. He was supposed to be watching me while our mother was at prayers, but keeping track of my running feet was proving to be a full-time task.

"Caught you!" Karna laughed, lunging forward and scooping me up by my waist.

He swung me around in the air until I gasped, my short fingers clutching tightly at his shoulders. My rare, emerald-green eyes crinkled with genuine, childish delight. I buried my face in his shoulder, catching the faint scent of ink and sun-dried wheat that always followed him. I loved the feeling of having an older brother chase me through the grass just to hear me laugh.

"Look what I brought from the masonry courtyards,"

Karna whispered conspiratorially, setting me down on the thick green grass beneath a massive shade tree.He reached into the wide cloth pouch tied to his waist and pulled out a handful of discarded, miniature clay brick samples. They were rejected pieces from the palace wall repairs, small enough to fit inside a child's palm.My eyes lit up instantly. To any other four-year-old, they were just heavy pieces of dirt. But to me, they were a treasure."Build?" I asked, my voice small, sweet, and still stumbling over the heavy syllables of our kingdom's language."Yes, let's build a fortress," Karna cheered, dumping the little bricks onto the grass. "I will make the high watchtower, and you can make the stables for my wooden horses.

"We sat cross-legged in the grass for the next hour, our heads bent together under the afternoon sun. While Karna loudly narrated a fictional battle, stacking his bricks in sloppy, uneven piles that constantly threatened to tip over, my small hands worked with a quiet, steady focus. I didn't have a grand, flawless plan in my head, but I had a natural, quiet eye for balance.

I carefully aligned the base of my tiny structure, placing the miniature bricks carefully side by side. I used damp garden mud as a crude mortar, smoothing it down with my thumb to make sure the foundation didn't tilt. To me, it wasn't a complex lesson—it was just an innocent game of creating a strong, safe little house in the grass.

"Wait, why is yours not falling down?" Karna complained, his brow furrowing as his own lopsided tower suddenly collapsed into the grass with a soft thud. He leaned over, his deep obsidian eyes wide with confusion as he inspected my perfectly balanced, three-inch-tall mud-brick wall. "You're only four, Shivsundari! How did you make it stick like that?"I let out a soft, innocent giggle, pointing my mud-stained finger at his collapsed pile. "Base too small, brother. Must be wide.

"Before Karna could argue, a shadow fell over our small workspace. We both looked up to see our second older brother, Vardhan, standing over us.

At ten, Vardhan was the serious anchor of the siblings, wearing the neat, formal robes of a royal student. He had inherited our mother's warm, golden-toned complexion and soft brown eyes, and he rarely participated in Karna's wild games."You are supposed to be helping her practice her alphabet, Karna, not covering the Rajkumari in river mud,"

Vardhan scolded mildly, though the strictness in his voice immediately melted when he looked down at me.He knelt on the grass, completely unbothered by the dirt ruining his clean white robes, and reached out to gently wipe a smudge of dark mud from my cheek.

"Father is returning from the eastern garrison audit. If he sees his favorite jewel looking like a clay artisan, he will have the guards lock Karna in the library for a week.

""Hey! It was her idea!" Karna protested, though he quickly began scrambling to hide the muddy bricks back in his pouch.I reached out, my small, sticky hand catching the edge of Vardhan's sleeve.

"Brother Vardhan, look," I babbled, proudly pointing to my sturdy little mud wall.Vardhan paused, his sharp eyes scanning the neat, steady layout of the tiny bricks. A look of genuine surprise crossed his youthful face.

"Did you teach her this, Karna?""No! I told you, she just started doing it!" Karna grumbled, dusting off his palms. "She always aligns them perfectly. It's weird.

Vardhan smiled softly, shaking his head as he leaned down and effortlessly lifted me into his arms, resting my small weight against his hip. "Perhaps our sister simply possesses a natural eye for order and stability, unlike you. Come, let us get you washed before the Maharaja arrives.

He brought a caravan of fresh northern fruits for the palace."As Vardhan carried me toward the inner pavilions, with Karna jogging alongside us and trying to steal my silk hair ribbons, a deep sense of peace filled my small chest. My hands were still too clumsy to hold a real talwar or change the world outside, and I was still just a child learning to navigate this massive family's love.

But as I listened to my brothers bickering over who got to sit next to me at the evening meal, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: this family was the sanctuary I had always prayed for, and I would use every year of my childhood to grow strong enough to protect it