The dusky rays of the setting sun covered the countryside road like a golden carpet, spread across its full length as a lone horse-drawn carriage travelled briskly on it, leaving a trail of dusty clouds behind.

  Inside, amidst the smell of old leather and sweat, a bespectacled boy not older than eighteen was fast asleep, drool running down the side of his mouth, his black hair, messy and unkempt. His hand clasping an old leather satchel with an open letter, half sticking out of it.

  Dear Dayton,

  Always remember, it is a man’s duty to be disciplined and resourceful. Try to do your best in the foreign land. Don’t get bogged down by adversities. Also, remember to eat and sleep properly. We, as Clemence …

  The coach jumped as it ran over a ditch, waking the boy up with a jerk. Dayton Clemence yawned, rubbed his eyes, adjusted his glasses, and stretched his limbs. He then wiped the drool dripping down his chin as sunlight hit his face, revealing a round, angular features with brown eyes, a straight nose and a tinge of baby fat, intimidating his youthful age.

  “Err….I must have dozed off,” Dayton muttered as he noticed the letter.

  “Aunt Marie and her quirks,” he whispered with a fond smile, folding the letter neatly and placing it back in the bag.

  Dayton looked out the window at the green fields which wedged the dusty road, sighing heavily. He had been travelling inside the carriage for the past fifteen days with only the driver as his companion. And though, he rarely complain, the monotony and the weariness of the journey were finally getting on his nerves.

  Dayton was a newsman, or at least that’s what he aspired to be, considering his love for telling stories. For the last two years, he was an employee of the London newspaper, The Morning Sun. He had started as a pageboy, working odd jobs and running errands for the other senior employees until one day, the editor, Mr Rudford, called him into his office and sat him down.

  “Dayton, how long have you been working for us?” asked Mr Rudford, a thin, bespectacled man with an upright nose and thin eyebrows.

  “Err…sir…around two years,” Dayton had replied, baffled.

  “I heard you want to become a newsman for the paper?”

  “Yes, sir, that is my dream,” Dayton had replied enthusiastically.

  “Well, young man, today is the day your dream comes true. A vacancy has recently come up that I think you would be perfect for.”

  “Thank you, sir…..thank you!” Dayton had voiced his appreciation vociferously, only to find out later that the vacancy was in the Indian subcontinent and no sane reporter wanted the job. Especially with a cholera epidemic wreaking death and havoc in the region. He was the young scapegoat who had fallen for the bait.

  Dayton had considered resigning, but his Aunt Marie, in her usual steadfast, disciplined, and tenacious manner, had convinced him to give it a go.

  “It will only be for a year. And you might even find yourself in a wondrous and amazing adventure. A gentleman is not afraid of any adversity. Be a man!” Aunt Marie had said stoically.

  And though the last phrase had hurt Dayton’s fledgling male pride, he was used to it, having grown up listening to Aunt Marie’s similar anecdotes in the small borough of Little Adkins. Aunt Marie, his father’s elder sister, was a spinster, who had raised him after his father’s death. He was only four years old when she took him in and though, Dayton had vague memories of his father, John Clemence, he had no memory of his mother. From the time Dayton became her ward, she had tried her best to mould him into her version of a perfect English gentleman.

  “Be particularly aware of your clumsiness. I don’t want you to get injured.” Aunt Marie had said at the time of his departure, tears pooling in her eyes.

  Aunt Marie might seem like a strict disciplinarian to an outsider, but only Dayton knew how much she loved and care for him. He had found her letter and a tin of her freshly baked biscuits, safely tucked inside one of his bags.

  So, with a heavy heart, Dayton boarded the ship. But the fresh start, Dayton had hoped for, never came. Just after he had reported to the local editor, Mr Brook in Bombay, he was directed to go to an obscure independent kingdom up in the north called Kaalesnagar. He had obtained news about some political instability there.

  “It might be a scandalous affair!” Mr Brook had said.

  “We are nearly there!” the coach driver hollered suddenly, jolting Dayton out of his musings. He looked out the window as the lime-painted brick walls of the cantonment shrouded his vision for hundreds of feet.

  The carriage steadily slowed down at a barricade on the road as a grumpy and tired looking sepoy approached the carriage window.

  “Reason for visit?” asked the sepoy, yawning and uninterested.

  “Good sir, my name is Dayton Clemence, a newsman–-”

  “Reason for visit?” the sepoy repeated curtly, ignoring Dayton’s attempt at small talk.

  “Err……I have an appointment to meet the regiment in-charge, General Huntley,” said Dayton, searching for the letter of introduction in his jacket and handing it to the sepoy, who gave the paper a quick look.

  “Alright, let them in!” cried the sepoy to the others at the gate.

  “Thank yo –-” Dayton tried to say but the sepoy hurriedly thrust the letter back at him and turned around, walking back to his post.

  ‘Must be tired.’ Dayton thought as the carriage moved again.

  The carriage rode through the cantonment gate while Dayton soaked in the surroundings…….long well-maintained barracks, horse stables with thatched roof and English-style red brick buildings amidst abundant greenery. His carriage finally coming to a halt in front of a large two-storey building guarded by a duo of smart looking sepoys in their redcoat uniforms, who cautiously eyed Dayton as he descended from the carriage.

  “Good luck, sir,” said Iqbal, the driver, as Dayton paid him.

  “You too, Iqbal,” said Dayton, waving goodbye to his travel companion for the last fortnight.

  Dayton carried his trunk up the stairs and walked through the entrance into a spacious but desolate atrium which only had a single wooden bench pressed up against the wall and a lone reception table where a stout pot-bellied Indian sepoy sat.

  “Good day, sir. My name is Dayton Clemence. I have an appointment with General Ronald Huntley,” said Dayton, approaching the table as he gave the introductory letter to the stout man.

  “Ahh… Mr Clemence, we have been expecting you,” said the sepoy in a heavy Indian accent, examining Dayton’s papers. “Please follow me.”

  “What about my luggage?”

  “You can leave it here until we return. It will be perfectly safe,” said the man with a smile, leading Dayton through a corridor which angled to a hallway and through a well-furnished room until they reached a large oak door.

  The man knocked three times as Dayton heard a muffled “Come in”, from inside the room.

  “Please, Mr Clemence,” said the stout sepoy, as he opened the door and ushered Dayton into a well-lit room which strongly smell of pine and tobacco. The walls were lined with numerous oil portraits and right down at the other end of the room, two distinguished men in uniforms sat on either side of a large, oak desk.

  “Sir, this gentleman here is Mr Dayton Clemence, the newsman from The Morning Sun,” said the stout man, smartly saluting the man seated behind the desk.

  “Mr Clemence, how do you do? I am General Ronald Huntley,” said General Huntley, getting up to shake Dayton’s hand.

  “Pleasure to meet you, sir,” said Dayton, shaking the General’s hand, who was a thin middle-aged man with regal features –- straight nose, black hair and high cheekbones.

  “And this here is Captain Patrick Anderson,” said General Huntley, introducing the other man, who was a devastatingly handsome fellow with wavy blonde hair, blue eyes and square jaw.

  “How do you do?” said Dayton, politely greeting the second man.

  “I am fine,” the Captain replied in a bored tone.

  “Please take a seat,” said General Huntley, pointing to an empty chair beside Captain Anderson. “You can go, Angar Singh. Please wait outside until I call you again.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Angar Singh as he smartly saluted General Huntley and walked out, closing the door behind him.

  “So, Mr Clemence, I hope your journey was not that arduous. Would you like some refreshments?” asked General Huntley as Dayton took the empty seat.

  “No, sir,” lied Dayton, out of sheer politeness.

  “Well, if you say so. I received a letter of your arrival from your editor, Clay Rudford, last week,” said General Huntley, pointing to a pile of letters on his desk. “Clay is an old Eton classmate of mine. He has asked me to provide you with food and lodging for one month, along with any other assistance you might need during your stay. Is this your first time in India?”

  “Yes, sir, this is my first visit,” replied Dayton, nervously rubbing his hands. “To be honest, this is my first actual assignment, anywhere.”

  “So, Clay has sent us a novice. Did he instruct you about why you were sent here?”

  “Err..…..no, sir. I was only told about some political instability in these parts,” replied Dayton, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.

  “The climate is pathetic in this part of the world, isn’t it? It is hot as hell!” said Captain Anderson with a smirk as Dayton shifted in his chair.

  “The Company is on a mission to correct the negative publicity it has suffered back in London because of the cholera epidemic and the millions of deaths it has caused,” said General Huntley, ignoring Captain Anderson’s barb. “And to that end, I requested Clay to print some news in favour of the Company. But Clay, being Clay, refused my request. Instead, sending you here to ascertain the actual ground situation.”

  “I don’t understand, sir,” said Dayton, confused.

  “You are aware of the epidemic raging around the world for the last few decades?” asked General Huntley with a sigh as Dayton nodded. “You see, Mr Clemence, most of the natives blame the company for this pandemic.”

  “Preposterous!” Captain Anderson muttered under his breath.

  “I shall explain,” said General Huntley, seeing the perplexed look on Dayton’s face. “The Company has conquered most of the subcontinent. Those we haven’t conquered have submitted to peaceful subservient treaty with the Company, making them ineffectual in nature. Only some powerful kingdoms are left, like the Afghans up in the north, who we will deal with, eventually. So, there is a lot of ill will among the native populace for the Company.”

  “They are quick to blame the Company for any issue that comes up,” said Captain Anderson derisively. “The Company has had to deal with several revolts in recent times because of this hostility. And now, they are blaming us for the spread of the pandemic. They are spreading rumours that the movement of the company sepoys has hastened the spread of the disease across the country.”

  “Thank you for the explanation, Captain Anderson,” said General Huntley, a little miffed by Captain Anderson’s interruption.

  “But..…err…don’t the natives have a point? Diseases do spread by the movement of large numbers of people across the land,” said Dayton.

  “Whose side are you on, Mr Clemence?” asked Captain Anderson scornfully.

  “Well…I…er…”

  “A true Englishman would have more pride than siding with these savages.”

  “Captain Anderson, that is enough!” General Huntley warned angrily.

  “Sorry, General,” Captain Anderson apologized, sensing the mood.

  “Now, where was I? Yes…..all these rumours have created political instability in these parts. And eventually, an ugly revolt will rear its head. Considering the strategic importance of this kingdom on the trade route to central Asia, we can’t afford it,” said General Huntley calmly. “So, I would like you to look around and report back favourably to your editor about what the Company is doing for the people. It will help us in securing support back home, in case of any new resistance from the natives.”

  “Err……yes, sir. I think I can try,” said Dayton, nervously rubbing his hands.

  “Jolly good then! Since that is settled, I assume you must be tired from your long journey. Let me have you shown to your lodge,” said General Huntley.

  “I…err…..” Dayton muttered while General Huntley rang a little bell on his desk as Angar Singh came marching into the room, saluting the General again.

  “Angar Singh, please escort Mr Clemence to his cottage,” ordered General Huntley, standing up and putting out a hand to the bewildered Dayton.

  Dayton quickly got up and shook the General’s hand, bidding goodbye to the two men as he followed Angar Singh out of the room.

  “A moment, Mr Clemence,” said General Huntley as Dayton reached the door. “Would you like to accompany me for dinner at the palace tonight? The Maharaja of Kaalesnagar has invited me to discuss some issues and it would be an excellent opportunity for you to introduce yourself.”

  “Err…..I would very much like it, sir,” said Dayton reluctantly.

  “Great! You can meet us in front of this building,” said General Huntley, taking out his pocket watch, “In exactly three hours. I will send Angar Singh to fetch you.”

  Dayton gave a polite nod as he walked out of the room, hurriedly chasing Angar Singh through the network of corridors and out to the atrium, where he collected his luggage.

  “Had a pleasant conversation, Mr Clemence?” asked Angar Singh, guiding Dayton out of the building and onto the street.

  “Err…..yes,” replied Dayton nervously, trailing Angar Singh down a yellow-lined brick road until they stopped in front of a small cottage with a thatched roof.

  The cottage was a minimal two rooms affair – a small sitting area, a bedroom and a minuscule kitchen attached to the side.

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  The main bedroom, like everything else in the cantonment, was furnished in a bare, militaristic style –- a single wardrobe, a bed and a side table. The only redeeming quality of the cottage, Dayton thought, was the beautiful rear view of an orchard full of piping fruit trees and flowering creepers, reminding him of his boyhood village back home.

  “Rest well, sir. I will see you in three hours,” said Angar Singh as he left Dayton alone in the cottage.

  “I am here, finally!” Dayton whispered to himself, looking around the desolate house.

  Dayton spent the next couple of hours unpacking his luggage, taking a bath, and choosing his attire for the dinner. Finally landing on a blue tailcoat jacket, grey breeches, cravat, and a beaver top hat which Aunt Marie had purchased for him from a Piccadilly high end boutique. Dayton checked his pocket watch as he heard a gentle knock on the door.

  “Mr Clemence, sir,” Angar Singh called out softly.

  Dayton opened the door to see a smiling Angar Singh greeting him with a lantern in his hand.

  “Sir, it is time,” said Angar Singh.

  “Err….yes, I am ready,” said Dayton, locking the cottage door behind him and following Angar Singh down the yellow-lined brick road.

  The two walked back to the administrative building where, from afar, Dayton could see two silhouettes……a man and a woman standing beside a carriage.

  “Welcome, Mr Clemence!” cried General Huntley, as Dayton came close enough to see their faces. “Any difficulties with your new lodging?”

  “No, sir. It is fine,” replied Dayton politely.

  “Angar Singh, you may leave now,” said General Huntley as Angar Singh gave a sharp salute and promptly left, leaving the three of them in the gloomy darkness, brightened only by the flickering oil lamps in front of the building.

  Dayton looked at General Huntley, who was dressed in full military splendour with various war medals adorning his chest and a white swan’s feather decorating his bicorne, reminding him of a proud cockatoo he had once seen in a zoo.

  “This here is my niece, Rose… Miss Rose Huntley,” said General Huntley, proudly introducing a young girl, the same age as Dayton, with golden hair, blue eyes, an oval face, and the same high cheekbones as her uncle.

  “Miss Huntley,” greeted Dayton nervously, lifting his top hat and bowing.

  “Mr Clemence, pleasure to meet you. My uncle tells me you work for The Morning Sun,” said Rose with a smile, dressed exquisitely in a high-waist turquoise gown with a ruffled collar, a golden locket on her neck, pure white gloves, and a matching bonnet.

  “Yes, Miss Huntley,” replied Dayton.

  “Rose is visiting me here on her way to Hong Kong, where my brother is currently stationed. This is her first visit to the country, just like you. I told her it is not a good time with all the troubles raging here, but she’s always had a mind of her own,” said General Huntley with a frown.

  “Sweet Uncle Ronald is always worried about me,” said Rose playfully, with a grin.

  “Yes, yes, Rose, you are right,” said General Huntley. “So, shall we get started on the journey?”

  “Will there be anything else, sir?” asked a squeaky voice suddenly from behind Dayton, making him jump with fright.

  Dayton quickly turned around as a small, scrawny man dressed in a butler’s attire came out from the shadows.

  “Ahhh..…..Wilfred! I completely forgot about you. This, Mr Clemence, is our family butler, Wilfred Bellamy. He accompanied Rose here from England,” said General Huntley, introducing the man.

  “Good evening, Master Clemence,” greeted the butler, a sombre man in his late forties with tanned skin, a high-bridged nose, an upright posture, and balding grey hair which was neatly parted on the sides.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Mr Bellamy,” Dayton muttered, looking at the immaculately dressed butler, still shaken from the fright.

  “Look at the time! We are running late!” cried General Huntley, checking his pocket watch. “Can’t have the Maharaja waiting on us.”

  “Err..…yes, sir,” said Dayton as all three of them hurriedly climbed into the carriage.

  “Have a safe journey, sir,” bade Wilfred, closing the door as the coach moved, swaying and staggering, the clopping sound of the hoofs disturbing the stillness of the night. Dayton nervously looked out of the window, wondering if he was dressed properly enough to be presented before an Indian Maharaja, whom he had only heard about till now.

  “Mr Clemence, how long are you planning to stay in India?” asked Rose.

  “Err…..My assignment is for a year, Miss Huntley,” replied Dayton, nervously rubbing his hands. “What about you?”

  “Maybe a fortnight. I am just passing through. I wish I had more time here, but Uncle Ronald won’t have any of it,” said Rose.

  “Now, now, Rose, you know why? It is for your own safety. Besides, Mr Clemence here looks like a responsible person, which is more than I can say for you,” said General Huntley as Rose rolled her eyes.

  “Sir…err…regarding the etiquette when meeting a maharaja, I must admit I am quite ignorant about it,” said Dayton, tense.

  “Don’t worry about it. Maharaja Kritiraj is a jolly good fellow. He isn’t too particular about etiquette. Common courtesy will do just fine. So, don’t be such a nervous wreck, young man,” said General Huntley with a kind smile, noticing Dayton’s apprehension.

  The rest of the journey, Dayton spent nervously staring in front, pretending to be interested in General Huntley’s lecture about the maintenance of the quarterly mess ration and armoury. Rose, who, like him, seemed uninterested, was staring outside through the window, lost in her own thoughts. The carriage drove on for what felt like an hour when Rose suddenly gave a quick jerk, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

  “We are here!” cried Rose animatedly.

  Dayton looked out the curtained window as they passed underneath the fort red sandstone wall, where rows of Kaalesnagar soldiers stood stoically on the parapet, each spotting the thickest and bushiest moustache.

  “I think we have arrived at the palace,” said General Huntley as the carriage steadily slowed down and stopped. The three of them got out as the sight of the palace stopped Dayton dead in his tracks.

  The palace was gigantic, built with grey and white sandstone with numerous latticed windows crafted onto the walls. And right at the entrance stairs, which led to a huge golden door, were two large golden lion statues flanking the gate.

  “Welcome, honoured guests,” said a man in a red turban, who was waiting for them at the entrance. “My name is Ram Singh. I will be your attendant tonight.”

  “Good evening, Ram Singh,” said General Huntley with a big smile. “Hope you are doing fine.”

  “Indeed, sir,” said Ram Singh with a bow.

  The three of them followed Ram Singh through the golden gate, down an ornate corridor, and to a courtyard where a portly, bearded man in a diamond studded turban awaited them on an ivory bench.

  “Welcome Huntley!” roared Maharaja Kritiraj as he saw the four of them.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. We are honoured by your hospitality,” said General Huntley with a bow.

  “And who are these companions of yours?” asked Maharaja Kritiraj with a smile.

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty. It is my pleasure to introduce my niece, Miss Rose Huntley. And this is Mr Dayton Clemence,” said General Huntley, each of them greeting the King.

  “Your niece is quite a beauty unlike you, Huntley,” said Maharaja Kritiraj, chuckling.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Rose with a curtsy.

  “And Mr Clemence, how did you come to know Huntley here?”

  “Err……Your Majesty, I am a newsman with The Morning Sun,” said Dayton nervously.

  “The Morning Sun? Isn’t that a London paper, Huntley?” asked Maharaja Kritiraj curiously.

  “Yes, Your Majesty, it is.”

  “So, the English have finally started taking interest in our small kingdom,” said Maharaja Kritiraj as a teenage girl in traditional attire walked out of one of the many doors, opening to the courtyard.

  “There she is. Zaara, come here!” Maharaja Kritiraj called out, as the young girl with olive shaped eyes and beautiful long tresses walked up to the group and stood beside him. “All of you, let me introduce my daughter, Princess Zaara.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Princess,” said General Huntley, bowing to the young girl.

  “Nice to meet you, too,” said Zaara timidly.

  “Your English is impeccable.”

  “Well, it should be. She has been learning five languages since she was six,” said Maharaja Kritiraj proudly. “And she has managed to master them all.”

  “Father, please stop!” said Zaara, embarrassed.

  “My Zaara is a little shy around new people,” said Maharaja Kritiraj with a chuckle. “I assume all of you will be hungry. Let us head inside. I have had a feast prepared for you all.”

  Maharaja Kritiraj led the group through a door and along the palace’s elegant corridors until they reached the dining room, which was a vast hall with a single long bajot table placed in the middle. Dayton marvelled at the beauty of the room, especially the ceiling, which was decorated with hundreds of mirrors arranged in intricate designs with an enormous chandelier hanging right above the table.

  “I hope you all can handle Indian spices,” said Maharaja Kritiraj with a smile, ringing a small bell as lines of servants with green turbans entered, each carrying a tray of scrumptious looking delicacies.

  The dinner was a memorable affair for Dayton. There were so many dishes that he could not even try them all. There were traditional English dishes –- onion soup with black pepper, blood pudding, shepherd pie, roast pheasant, trifle, along with countless Indian ones. Dayton particularly enjoyed one called kofta –- meat dumplings cooked in a yogurt sauce and biryani –- fragrant saffron rice cooked with goat meat.

  ‘If only Aunt Marie could see this,’ thought Dayton as he, along with the rest of the diners, dug into the lavish spread until none of them could eat another morsel.

  “Huntley, should we move to the parlour then?” said Maharaja Kritiraj as the servants cleared the table. “All of you can accompany us if you like.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” said General Huntley with a satisfied smile as all of them got up and followed Maharaja Kritiraj again through a maze of corridors until they reached a closed door with two guards stationed in front of it.

  “Your Majesty, why are there guards stationed here?” asked Rose, puzzled.

  “You will find out soon enough. I had a French architect design the parlour in traditional European style,” said Maharaja Kritiraj, opening the door.

  The room was smaller than the dinner hall, but its interior differed fully from the rest of the palace. From the carpet to the drapes, the sofas and the marble mantelpiece, it was a traditional English parlour, except for one notable difference……giant glass cases lined the room beside a work table with several unknown devices.

  “I am an avid collector and amateur lapidarist,” said Maharaja Kritiraj with a kind smile.

  “A lapida…..lap –-” muttered Dayton, baffled.

  “A lapidarist, Mr Clemence, is a person who cuts, polishes, and deals with precious gemstones. Shaping precious stones is a hobby of mine,” said Maharaja Kritiraj, leading them to the glass cases as all their eyes lit up…….precious diamonds studded in gold necklace, pearl earrings, red sapphire rings along with various other priceless jewels and gemstones were on display in the glass cabinets.

  “Let me show you something worthwhile. I think you will like it,” said Maharaja Kritiraj to Rose, who still looked dumbstruck by the extravagant collection as he led them to a small glass cabinet placed at the far end which contained one single item not bigger than a gooseberry.

  “What is that, Your Majesty?” asked Rose excitedly.

  “That, Lady Huntley, is one of the few red diamonds in existence,” said Maharaja Kritiraj with a huge smile, knowing he had shown them something worthwhile.

  “It is beautiful!” cried Rose, marvelling at the sight of the diamond.

  “And this is for you,” said Maharaja Kritiraj as he walked up to one case and took out a pair of blue sapphire earrings, placing them on Rose’s opened palms.

  “I could possibly not,” muttered Rose, startled.

  “You can’t say no to a king, young lady.”

  “It is most generous, but-–”

  “It is nothing. I can always make more,” said Maharaja Kritiraj, dismissing any further protest. “Now, shall we get down to business, Huntley?”

  “Of course,” said General Huntley with a kind smile to the startled Rose.

  “I invited you here for two reasons,” said Maharaja Kritiraj as they sat down around the fireplace.

  “First, there has been a spurt of attacks on the outer villages near the northern border of my kingdom. It has led to tremendous loss of livestock, but fortunately, there has been no loss of life yet. It seems there is an unknown wild animal on the loose.”

  “I don’t think you called me here for a few livestock, Your Majesty,” said General Huntley sceptically.

  “No, I didn’t. I sent a few of my soldiers to investigate and exterminate the wild animals, but they were attacked. Now, they are too terrified to speak, and even their memories are all jumbled up.”

  “So, how can the Company be of service?” asked General Huntley, listening intently along with the rest.

  “We think it is a pack of wild animals as their hunting range has doubled over the last fortnight, spreading over hundreds of villages. It is too vast an area to cover and since my father signed the Subsidiary Alliance treaty with the East India Company, restricting the number of troops I can maintain. I don’t have enough men,” said Maharaja Kritiraj with a slight bitterness. “So, I want your regiment to comb the area, driving the beasts into one spot where we can hunt them down.”

  “That is an excellent plan. I will be more than happy to provide you with the men,” said General Huntley. “I think three hundred should suffice.”

  “I think so,” said Maharaja Kritiraj, “And I hope you will join me for the hunt.”

  “It would be an honour, Your Majesty.”

  “And…er….Why don’t you bring Lady Huntley too? It will be a unique experience for her,” said Maharaja Kritiraj, turning to Rose.

  “That would be highly inappropriate, not to mention quite dangerous,” said General Huntley apprehensively.

  “I don’t think it will be. My Zaara is coming too and Lady Huntley can give her company,” said Maharaja Kritiraj, looking dotingly at Zaara, “And there wouldn’t be any real danger, of course. They will be confined to the safety of the camp. You would like to come, wouldn’t you, young lady?”

  “Of course, I would like to, Your Majesty. I can go right, Uncle Ronald?” asked Rose excitedly.

  “Well…..uhh…” said General Huntley, trying to object, but one look at Rose’s determined face made him give up. “Alright, if the Princess is coming, then you can tag along.”

  “What about you, Mr Clemence?” asked Rose, turning to Dayton.

  “Err.….Miss Huntley, I have some anxiety about-–”

  “You work for a newspaper. It will be a good story to send to your editor. It is final. You are coming!” said Rose, cutting short any excuses that Dayton could have come up with.

  “Now, Zaara dear, why don’t you give Mr Clemence and Lady Huntley a tour of your library while I discuss something important with the General?” said Maharaja Kritiraj.

  “Yes, father,” replied Zaara politely, as Rose and Dayton looked at each other at the sudden suggestion and followed the princess out of the room.

  Zaara led them out of the chamber and through another maze of ornately decorated corridors and up a flight of stairs until they reached a big redwood door which she opened, to reveal a humongous double-storey library with thousands of books neatly arranged in bookcases.

  “Wow, Zaara, are all of these yours?” asked Rose, startling both Zaara and Dayton by her friendly tone.

  “Ahh…yes, Lady Huntley. But sometimes I let others use them too,” said Zaara, slightly baffled.

  “Call me, Rose. Lady Huntley makes me sound like an old woman.”

  “Are….are…..you sure?”

  “Yes, I am sure!”

  “Ahh..….okay, Rose,” said Zaara, smiling nervously.

  “There are so many books here. You must really love reading.”

  “I do. Father built this place, as I don’t like to get out much.”

  “That is a surprise. I thought…..since you are coming to the hunting expedition..…”

  “Well, that … since my mother passed away, father hasn’t let me out of his sight. He takes me with him wherever he goes. He fears something might happen to me too…..in his absence,” said Zaara awkwardly, as silence descended over the room, while Dayton slowly realised why they hadn’t seen the Queen that evening.

  “What is that?” asked Rose, pointing at a pair of telescopes placed by the window, trying to break the tension in the room.

  “Oh that! That is for my hobby. At night, I like to look up at the stars and the planets. It was a gift from my mother before she died,” said Zaara as the room again plunged into awkward silence.

  “Okayyyy…” muttered Rose uneasily.

  The three of them spent the next hour discussing various books and discoveries. Zaara showed them a book on the journey of Lewis and Clark across the continent of North America, while Rose was most intrigued by the story of the recent discovery of the continent of Antarctica. It was only when Dayton showed them his newest possession, a new invention, the fountain pen, that the two girls lost interest and the conversation died. Fortunately for Dayton, though, he was saved from further embarrassment by the arrival of Ram Singh, who informed them that the General was waiting at the palace gate.

  The two said their goodbyes to Zaara, following Ram Singh to the front door, where General Huntley was waiting for them beside the carriage.

  “Good to go?” asked General Huntley as Rose nodded.

  The carriage rode through in silence and only when they had left the palace far behind that General Huntley finally spoke up.

  “Well, Mr Clemence, excited about the hunting expedition?”

  “Yes, sir. Though I admit it will be a first for me,” said Dayton anxiously.

  “It is a rare opportunity. I was pleasantly surprised by the invitation.”

  “Uncle Ronald, what is the Subsidiary Alliance treaty?” asked Rose suddenly.

  “Oh, that……. It is an alliance between a native kingdom and the Company, under which the kingdom pays the Company for troops to be stationed inside its border,” said General Huntley reluctantly.

  “But why would an independent kingdom pay the Company to keep troops inside its own border?” asked Rose, confused.

  “That is a difficult question, Rose… it is just the system.”

  “Then doesn’t the system force the kingdom to be at the beck and call of a private company?”

  “That is just the way it is, Rose,” said General Huntley uncomfortably.

  “What was so secretive that the King had to shoo us away?”

  “Well….Uhh …”

  “Come on, Uncle Ronald,” said Rose, her interest piqued.

  “You see Rose, the Maharaja had a request for the Company’s Court of Directors which he wanted me to relay,” said General Huntley with a sigh, finally giving in to his niece’s pestering.

  “What request?”

  “The Maharaja has no son and since the Queen’s death, he has refused to marry again, which leaves the kingdom in a predicament, as he has only one daughter. Tradition dictates that the next heir should be male, which means the crown should pass to the closest male relative – his nephews, either Prince Uday or Prince Jora. So, he wants the Company’s help in backing his daughter as heir when the time comes,” explained General Huntley.

  “Well, it is easy for the Company then, isn’t it? Since having a woman as a ruler is not a new thing, even back home,” said Dayton.

  “It is not that easy, Mr Clemence. I doubt if there will even be a kingdom of Kaalesnagar after the Maharaja’s death.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, the Court of Directors has come up with a new law called the Doctrine of Lapse,” said General Huntley sombrely.

  What is the Doctrine of Lapse?” asked Rose curiously.

  “It is a policy which basically implies that any native king who has signed a Subsidiary Alliance with the Company will forfeit their kingdom to the Company in the event that they do not have a natural born male heir.”

  “That is unfair!” gasped Rose, shocked.

  “Well, it is still in discussion and I doubt it will ever come into force, considering how unfair the practice is. So, there is no need to worry,” said General Huntley, looking tired.

  “Well, it doesn’t make it any less bad!” said Rose, annoyed.

  The rest of the journey back was spent in total silence, as none of them wished to continue the conversation. Dayton particularly felt a terrible knot in his stomach from what he heard after just meeting the motherless princess. Instead, he tried to focus on the hunting expedition and the fact that he was about to be plunged into an adventure.

  “Maybe Aunt Marie was right when she said that I might find myself on a wondrous and amazing adventure.”

  Cholera epidemic of the first half of the 19th century began in India and gradually turned into a global pandemic. The estimated deaths were around 20 to 30 million.

  Bajot is a traditional Indian long table.

  Subsidiary Alliance is a tributary treaty between the East India Company and an Indian Kingdom, used by the Company to maintain political control over the native kingdoms by limiting the army strength of the native kingdom.

  Doctrine of lapse is a policy used by the East India Company to annex native kingdoms in the subcontinent during the first half of the 19th century and it is one of the main reasons for the Revolt of 1857.