Chapter 26: The Evening Board

POV: Maharaja Harsha

As the autumn chill deepened over the valley, the evening air in the inner courtyard grew crisp, carrying the smoky scent of pine log fires from the palace hearths. Inside the royal dining pavilion, wide brass braziers glowed with hot, crackling embers, filling the high-ceilinged room with a comforting warmth that kept the mountain cold away. The heavy carved timber doors were pulled firmly shut against the whistling wind, and soft velvet cushions were laid out around the low wooden dining tables. For me, the evening meal was sacred—not because of state protocol or royal customs, but because it was the one time in the day when the crown could be set aside and I was simply a father.

"Father, you should have seen it!" Karna burst out, leaning forward over his brass plate with his eyes wide with excitement. "The master's shortbow has a triple-layered horn backing! When he releases the string, it doesn't just twang—it hums! Vardhan Bhaiya says we might get to practice with real hunting bows by next summer!"

"Does he now?" I chuckled deeply, taking a slow sip of the warm, spiced lentil broth from my silver cup. I cast an amused, sideways look toward my middle son. "Vardhan, are you giving out bow permissions to your younger brother without checking with the weapons masters first?"

Vardhan flushed slightly, sitting up a bit straighter on his cushion. "Only light practice bows, Father! Under strict supervision, of course. We were reviewing the defensive lines today, and the weapon logs show we have enough light cedar frames for the younger training rings."

Aditya sat right beside me, his broad shoulders relaxed after his own long hours in the sword rings. He reached over to lightly thump Karna's shoulder, a quiet smile breaking across his serious face. "Do not go making promises you cannot keep, Vardhan. Karna still bounces so much in the saddle that his arrows would probably land in the river instead of the targets."

"I hit three center marks today, Aditya Bhaiya!" Karna protested defensively, though a bright grin broke across his face as he tore into his warm flatbread.

"The masters always say balance comes long before power," Vasundhara Di chimed in smoothly, passing a basket of hot, stone-baked flatbreads to her mother. She offered her brothers a sharp, intelligent look across the table. "Besides, the northern trade routes are already slowing down because of the early frost. Scholar Vasudev showed us the map of the southern passes today, and if the heavy snow hits the upper river gate early, those transport wagons will be stuck in the mud for weeks. We should be focusing on the wool storage allocations, not hunting bows."

Aditya nodded slowly, his eyes shifting toward the map scrolls we had left near the archive tables. "Vasundhara is right, Father. The winter supply lines into the lower towns need to be fully secured before the mountain trails freeze solid. The guardsmen will need the heavier wool wraps by the next watch."

I stared at my eldest children, a deep sense of pride filling my chest at their sharp, cooperative focus. "You both have been listening closely to the council reports. We will review the storage allocations first thing in the morning, Aditya."

"Harsha, let them eat their bread without debating the council tallies and supply logs," Sumati scolded gently, though her eyes were shining with affection as she reached over to wipe a tiny speck of curry from Shivsundari's cheek. "Let the children have a peaceful evening."

"Of course, my Queen," I smiled, turning my full attention to my youngest daughter, who was sitting quietly on her raised velvet cushion between us. Her small feet couldn't even reach the floor, and she was contentedly eating her salted lentils, completely happy just to be surrounded by the noisy chatter of her brothers and sisters. My voice instantly softened to a gentle warmth. "And did you have a good afternoon, my little green-eyed flower? Master Kalyan tells me your music practice went very well."

Shivsundari set down her small silver spoon and looked up at me with a bright, genuine smile. "The rosewood lute is very heavy, Father, but Vasundhara Di helped me hold my wrist loose. The notes sounded clean by the end."

"Wonderful," I declared happily, scooping a sweet, honey-dusted almond pastry onto Shivsundari's brass tray as a reward for her hard work. "A proper treat for our little musician."

"Thank you, Father," she said softly, taking the sweet with both hands.

As the plates were slowly cleared away by the quiet kitchen pages, the light domestic chatter settled down. I set my empty cup down on the wooden tray, the soft clink drawing the attention of everyone at the table. It was time to speak of the heavier news that had arrived with the late-afternoon couriers from the southern borders.

"Sumati," I said, turning toward my queen, my tone becoming measured and serious. "The boundary riders sent word right before the evening watches closed. The formal autumn convoy from the Avanti kingdom has already cleared the lower river checkpoints. They will be arriving at our main gates by the middle of next week."

Sumati paused, her fingers smoothing down her saree as she absorbed the news. "Next week? The frost is settling much faster this season. Is the diplomatic delegation large?"

"It is a full political entourage," I replied, nodding slowly. "And the Avanti court is sending someone important to lead the exchange this time. Their young Prince Devrath is traveling with the column to oversee the grain and wool trade logs directly."

Vardhan’s eyes instantly brightened at the mention of the trade logs, while Aditya shifted slightly, his gaze sharpening at the mention of a foreign prince entering our valley.

"If the Avanti prince is coming himself, the guest wings will need to be fully prepared before the first heavy snowfall," Sumati noted thoughtfully, already calculating the domestic requirements in her head. "We will need to coordinate with the weavers for the heavier winter draperies, and the kitchens must prepare for a formal welcoming banquet. Vasundhara, we will need to review the palace store inventories tomorrow morning right after breakfast."

"I will have the lists ready, Mother," Vasundhara Di answered cleanly, nodding in agreement.

"Can we go down to the outer courtyard to see the horses when the convoy arrives, Father?" Karna asked eagerly, leaning forward. "The stable hands say the Avanti horses are bred differently for the southern plains!"

I looked down at Shivsundari, who was quietly watching the conversation, her thumbs rubbing over the edge of her warm shawl. The wind outside the heavy doors was picking up, and my protective instincts immediately flared. "Only if the weather is clear, Karna. And only if your sister stays close to Meena and wears her thickest wool mantle wraps. The northern drafts are getting far too sharp for little ears."

"Can I go too, Father?" Shivsundari asked softly, her green eyes looking between Aditya Bhaiya and me. "Karna has talked about the southern bows and horses all afternoon."

"Then it is settled," I smiled, reaching out to tap her cheek gently before looking around the table at all my children. "We will welcome our guests from Avanti together, as a family. But for tonight, the wind is rising. Head to your rooms and get your rest before the morning study bells open the watch."

The children rose from their cushions, offering their quiet, respectful bows before heading out into the long gallery walkway. As the heavy doors clicked shut behind them, leaving only Sumati and me by the fading embers of the brazier, I felt a deep, enduring peace. Whatever political currents or shifting alliances the Avanti convoy would bring to our gates next week, the foundation of our house remained completely safe, whole, and unbreakable.