Ch 14: From One Palace to Another

Written by Kavya and Concept by Sidhant First go to previous blogs if you have not already....

Cloe’s mission had shifted from solving a mystery to navigating the labyrinth of royal intrigue. She had just dropped Shree off at the IIT hostel, where Shree would pack and finalize her internship application. As they headed toward the airport for their flight to Jodhpur, Cloe’s mind was racing with the clues they had uncovered. There was something darker at play, something that linked the Maharaja’s death to a broader, more sinister web.

But first, they had to reach Jodhpur. The Uday Bhawan, a palace so vast it felt like an entire kingdom, awaited them. Situated amidst the dry, dusty landscapes of Rajasthan, the palace stood as a testament to centuries of Rajput rule, its elegant marble façade a quiet echo of the royal family’s once-grand legacy. As Cloe and Shree arrived, they were greeted by the silence of mourning. The death of the Maharaja had cast a shadow over the place, and the air seemed to hum with secrets.

They knew the next step was to gain an audience with the Maharani, the Maharaja’s widow. But how could they, strangers and outsiders, penetrate the sanctity of this grieving royal family? Cloe had no plan, but Shree had a spark of an idea that might just work.

Shree, the genius hacker, had already tapped into the Maharaja’s WhatsApp account. She sent a message that would make the Maharani believe the Maharaja was still alive — in spirit, at least. “My dear, don’t be sad,” it read. “I am doing well here in heaven. Here, I am reunited with my family and we are the real Rajputs again. When I was in Delhi, I made a friend, a girl called Shree. I am sending her to you. Host her. She has a good ear. Share your worries with her.”

Two hours later, Shree approached the Maharani’s quarters, only to be met with a suspicious, cold reception. The Maharani accused her of using the Maharaja’s phone to extort money, her grief clouding her judgment. Shree was rattled, but she stayed calm, explaining everything. She introduced Cloe, who had been watching from the shadows, and together they told the truth.

Cloe’s voice was steady as she explained, “We were alerted about the Maharaja’s death in advance, but by the time we got the message, it was already too late. What happened to him is only the beginning. We believe this death is part of a much larger catastrophe.”

The Maharani, her face a mask of sorrow, listened in silence. Then, she stood up, walked to the grand, ornately-carved wooden door, and closed it behind her.

“In this palace,” she said softly, “even the walls have ears. Not everyone here is a friend. And not everything that happens within these walls should be known. I want the news of a possible catastrophe to remain a secret. The Maharaja worked so hard to preserve the name of our family. When Prime Minister Indira Gandhi stripped the royal families of their titles and allowances after independence, we had to find other ways to protect ourselves. My husband made sure our assets were secured through trusts and companies.”

She took a deep breath, her eyes weary but resolute. “This palace has its own story. It was built slowly, stone by stone, to provide work for famine-stricken farmers. Between 1929 and 1943, it employed thousands of men. I don’t want its name to be tarnished. Whatever catastrophe we face, you need to deal with it quietly, before it strikes.”

She paused, turning back to Cloe. “Agent Anirud from the CBI has already been working on the Maharaja’s case. You met him in Delhi, didn’t you? He’s told me about you. I also checked who this ‘Shree’ is, the one mentioned in my husband’s final message. I found out you’ve been staying with her in my palace since this morning. Miss Cloe, I expected to meet you this morning, but not under these circumstances. I know you’ve been investigating, and I don’t want to make it difficult for you. But the name of my husband and my family should not be misused. Work alongside Agent Anirud, but I want this to remain quiet.”

Cloe, sensing the gravity of the situation, nodded. “I understand. We will work discreetly. You have my word.”

The Maharani’s eyes softened just a fraction. “You have a strong track record, Miss Cloe. I didn’t expect you to act in such a… childish manner, messaging me from my husband’s hacked WhatsApp account. But I believe in your ability. You’re welcome to stay here at the palace. I will ensure you’re well taken care of. But everything you do here, remember — it must be kept secret. The walls of this palace cannot hear a thing.”

With those words, the fate of the investigation shifted once again. What had seemed like a series of disjointed incidents — the Maharaja’s mysterious death, the hacked messages, the ghostly encounters — now appeared to be linked to something far larger. Cloe and Shree were no longer just investigating a royal death; they were entangled in a conspiracy that threatened not only the future of the royal family but the very fabric of Indian history itself.

As Cloe and Shree left the Maharani’s chambers, they felt the weight of the task ahead. They had to act quickly, carefully, and above all — quietly. The world of shadows they had entered was more treacherous than they had imagined, and one wrong move could unravel everything.

Cloe looked at Shree, her eyes determined. “We’ll find the truth, Shree. But we have to be smart about this. The Maharaja’s death is just the beginning. Whatever is coming next, we have to stop it.”

Shree nodded, her mind already racing with possibilities. Together, they would uncover the secrets of the Uday Bhawan and the mystery that lay beneath its marble floors.

And so, with the fate of a palace, a royal family, and perhaps even the entire country at stake, they began their investigation anew — from one palace to another.