02

Prologue

Inside the large marble walls of Kesar Mehal, where every brick spoke of authority, each glimmering chandelier became a watch tower and air felt more like a noose, stood a man.

Wearing a white loose kurta, a turban wrapped around his head, pressing his both hands together in a plea, begged, โ€œhujur, rohom korun.โ€

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๐’๐‘๐„๐ˆ๐’๐‡๐€

โ•ฐโ”ˆโžค๐๐ฎ๐ซ๐ง๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ก๐ž๐š๐ซ๐ญ๐ฌ & ๐•ฝ๐–†๐–Œ๐–Ž๐–“๐–Œ ๐•พ๐–”๐–š๐–‘๐–˜