Asher, now Kunwar Singh, paced the opulent room, his mind racing with thoughts of the past and the uncertain future. He had only read about this time period, but living in it was a different challenge altogether. He needed to confirm what year it was to set his plans in motion.
"I need to confirm what year this is!" he muttered to himself, feeling the weight of history on his shoulders. He turned to the servant by his bedside. "Dasi, how old is my father?"
"If I remember correctly, Hazur, Maharaja is 56 years old."
Asher's mind immediately began calculating. "So Maharaja Ranjit Singh died in 1839, and he was 58 years old. That means this must be the year 1837," he whispered, piecing together the timeline. The thought of his father's impending death in just two years sent a chill down his spine. "In twelve years, the British will occupy the Sikh Empire. I still have time, but not much."
He sat down, his thoughts whirling. "This is complicated. According to my research, the last emperor of the Sikh Empire was born in 1838, just a year from now. I am the 10th offspring, which would make him the 11th. But history records him as the 9th heir, which means there's another unrecorded offspring of the Maharaja besides me." Asher knew he had to keep his identity hidden and beware of the other unknown prince, labelling him a potential enemy. "I need to cover my tracks well."
The biggest threat to his survival and the empire's future were the Dogras—trusted ministers who were the very ones that led to the downfall of the Sikh Empire by assassinating the heirs. Their influence on the Maharaja was strong, and Asher knew he needed to navigate this treacherous court wisely.
"I need to gather strong support," Asher mused, his eyes sharp and determined. "The Dogras cannot be allowed to gain any more power, and I need allies who can help me change the course of history."
His thoughts then turned to one of the most formidable figures of the time: Hari Singh Nalwa, the legendary general known for his unparalleled bravery and military prowess. Asher's heart raced at the thought of Nalwa, the man who was a nightmare for the empire's enemies, and a potential ally who could help him safeguard the Sikh Empire.
"Nalwa… the superhuman warlord and the world's best general. If I can make him my ally, I could annihilate the British before they even have a chance."
Asher clenched his fists, determination coursing through him. He was no longer just Asher, the history student; he was Kunwar Singh, a prince with the chance to rewrite the fate of the empire. But first, he had to gain the trust of those who mattered and eliminate the ones who threatened his mission.
The stakes were high, and the path ahead was fraught with danger. But Asher was ready. The battle for the future of the Sikh Empire had just begun.
As Asher was lost in thought, his mind was overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation. He needed a plan, allies, and above all, a way to navigate the deadly politics of the royal court. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. He turned, feeling a twinge of nervousness.
The door creaked open, and in walked Naunihal Singh, the grandson of Maharaja Ranjit Singh. Naunihal was no ordinary prince; he was regarded as the greatest talent in history, a formidable warrior, and a brilliant strategist destined for greatness. The young man exuded confidence, his piercing eyes scanning the room as he entered.
Asher's eyes widened as he took in the sight of his nephew. "So, this is the person the Maharaja has in mind as the heir to the throne," Asher thought, admiring Naunihal's presence. The prince was tall and athletic, his face sharp with intelligence and his stance full of strength. "I gotta admit, he's super handsome," Asher mused inwardly, slightly taken aback by the charisma Naunihal exuded.
"Hello, Uncle," Naunihal greeted with a respectful bow, his voice warm but formal.
"Hey there, nephew. How have you been?" Asher replied, trying to sound natural despite the strangeness of the situation.
"I've been well! I'm here with a message from Grandfather. He wishes to see you tomorrow," Naunihal said, his tone polite yet carrying the weight of the command.
"Okay, I will be there," Asher responded casually, but his words seemed to surprise Naunihal.
"REALLY?!" Naunihal's eyes widened in disbelief, his voice a mix of surprise and excitement. Realizing his outburst, he quickly cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure. "Ahm, yes, sure, Uncle. I will let Grandfather know."
Asher watched the young prince's sudden change in demeanour, puzzled by the reaction. "What was that about?" he thought, noting the subtle flicker of relief in Naunihal's eyes. It was clear that Naunihal had expected something different, and Asher's easy agreement had caught him off guard.
This small interaction planted a seed of curiosity in Asher's mind. Naunihal was no ordinary prince; his skills and potential made him a prime candidate for leadership, and his closeness to the Maharaja made him a key figure in the power dynamics of the court. If Asher was to gain influence and protect the future of the Sikh Empire, understanding Naunihal's motives and intentions would be crucial.
As Naunihal took his leave, Asher sat back, the gears in his mind turning rapidly. Tomorrow's meeting with the Maharaja could change everything. And if Naunihal was to be the next leader, Asher needed to find a way to earn his trust—or at the very least, understand his game.