Before Manvendra Singh, there was Vijay Singh, who was so repulsed by his to-be wife’s body odour that he had vomited in front of her when they first met. But he was ordered to marry the princess anyway, as a way of expanding the kingdom. Vijay Singh drank copiously to get through the nights and conceived soon after to produce an heir to the throne, but never shared a bed with his wife again.

Times had changed, Abhimanyu knew, but not enough for him to marry Meera. And while he was ready to be disowned by the family and follow his heart, there had been something about his father’s request, made so soon after his wife’s death, that had unsettled the prince. Torn, he reached out to his elder brother.

‘So you know,’ Abhimanyu said to Ajay Singh upon realizing that his brother already knew about him and Meera.

‘Daata had mentioned something.’

‘What else is happening behind my back in the family? Pray tell me about the other rumours, brother,’ Abhimanyu mocked, losing his patience suddenly.

‘Look, let’s not create a scene.’ Ajay Singh tried calming his brother.

‘Scene? My personal life is being discussed by everyone and I’m the one creating a scene?’

‘It came up in a different context, that’s how I know. No one else has any knowledge about this, I assure you.’

Upon more prodding, Ajay declared that he couldn’t divulge anything else that their father had said as it was part of a leadership committee discussion, which Abhimanyu didn’t have the privilege of being a part of.

‘I am not interested in knowing what the committee thinks of my love,’ Abhimanyu said, ‘I’m here to seek advice from you on this personal matter. Tell me, what should I do? How can I make this work?’

‘In the interest of this kingdom, Abhimanyu, I advice you to not pursue a relationship with that woman,’ Ajay Singh said, averting Abhimanyu’s gaze.

Abhimanyu let out an audible sigh. ‘I came to seek help from an elder brother, just to find a custodian of the kingdom,’ he said with a wry smile.

Abhimanyu rose from his chair like a man possessed. His body language, a mix of anger and dejection, made it amply clear to Ajay Singh that his younger brother was determined to leave Ranakpour, never to come back.

‘Abhi ...’ Ajay Singh called out, but Abhimanyu kept walking. ‘Daata is running for election.’

The young prince stopped.

‘Yes, the last king of Ranakpour is running for an election.’

Ajay Singh went on to explain that Uday Singh would be launching a campaign for the office of the chief minister of Rajasthan in the coming weeks. He sounded resigned to the fact that the king would now be begging for votes from the same people that his family had ruled over for centuries. Knocking on doors, making speeches, defending his decisions and being on public trial. He’d be undertaking this Herculean task of convincing people that he was still their leader, not by proclamations, but by winning the hearts and minds of an unsure population. People had to believe deep down that he was still their king. Anything that even gave a hint that the family had lost its grip over power or that Uday Singh had become an ordinary citizen in free India would be pounced upon by his detractors. Ajay Singh said that Abhimanyu’s decision to marry Meera would be one such chink in their armour.