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The stone corridors of Indravati Palace echoed with distant footsteps as Rani Indravati slipped away from the evening durbar. Her silk ghaghra whispered against the marble, the heavy gold jewelry at her throat and wrists catching the torchlight. Behind her, Raghunath followed at a respectful distance, carrying a tray of wine and fruit as any dutiful servant would. Only when they reached the small private bath chamber behind the royal apartments did he set the tray down and bolt the heavy wooden door.