As Megha raised the golden scepter, the diamond at its tip caught the dawn’s light, casting a brilliant flare over the courtyard. The roar from the townspeople was deafening—a tidal wave of sound that shook the very air. Megha waited for the silence to return, her grip tightening on the heavy metal. "I swear," she began, her voice ringing with a newfound iron clarity, "with the Tridevi as my witness, before King Aryavardhan, my father, my mother, and every soul gathered here today. I shall govern by the ancient Vedic traditions. My life is no longer my own; it belongs