Chapter 408 - 376: Become A King At 10!...

(A/N):

Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.

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The nobles who had once bowed before his father began measuring the young prince with calculating eyes.

Some questioned whether a ten-year-old could possibly govern a kingdom, while others openly argued that the throne required an experienced ruler who could protect the realm from its enemies.

Several powerful families began putting forward their own candidates, disguising their ambitions behind claims that they wished only to preserve stability.

Ministers who had served his father for decades suddenly discovered reasons to challenge royal decisions, and those who had once professed unwavering loyalty began forming alliances behind closed doors.

Vrishasena remembered those years with a bitterness that time had never entirely erased.

He had been a child surrounded by adults, yet very few of them had treated him as anything more than an obstacle standing between themselves and the throne.

Every smile had seemed capable of hiding an ulterior motive, every reassuring promise had come with an unspoken condition, and every discussion in the royal court had become a contest in which the young king had to learn how to survive without revealing how much he still had to learn.

Had it not been for the handful of men who remained loyal to his father’s memory and recognised him as their rightful sovereign, Vrishasena might never have survived the succession struggle that followed.

They taught him to observe before speaking, to distinguish genuine loyalty from convenient obedience, and to understand that power was not secured merely by sitting upon a throne.

It had to be defended against those who believed they deserved it more than the person who occupied it.

For five years, the struggle continued, sometimes through quiet political manoeuvring and sometimes through open attempts to undermine his authority.

Vrishasena learned to conceal his intentions, patiently allowing his enemies to underestimate him while he gathered information and strengthened the circle of men he could trust.

He listened to their arguments, remembered their alliances, and waited until the day when the conflict could no longer be contained within the palace walls.

By the time he reached fifteen, the succession struggle had reached its breaking point.

Those who had spent years attempting to control him finally moved openly against the throne, convinced that the young king could no longer resist their combined strength.

They believed they had cornered a boy who had been forced into kingship before he was ready.

They had made a fatal mistake.

With the loyal commanders and soldiers who had stood beside him since his childhood, Vrishasena struck back.

The confrontation was fierce, and when it ended, the men who had plotted to seize his throne were brought before him to answer for their actions.

He showed no mercy to those he judged guilty of treason.

Every conspirator sentenced to death was executed, without exception, and the noble houses that had attempted to usurp the crown were stripped of their ability to challenge his authority.

By the time the bloodshed was over, the succession struggle had ended, and Vrishasena finally possessed undisputed control over his kingdom.

He had entered that conflict as a fifteen-year-old king fighting to preserve the throne inherited from his father.

He emerged from it as a ruler who understood exactly how fragile power could be and how quickly the people who surrounded a king might turn against him when they believed they could gain something from his downfall.

That experience had shaped the man he became.

Vrishasena had learned never to display weakness before those who might exploit it, never to allow a rival’s challenge to go unanswered, and never to forget that the authority of a king depended upon the willingness of others to recognise it.

The lessons had not made him a gentler ruler, but they had made him determined never to suffer the helplessness he had experienced as a child.

Now, watching his ten-year-old son stand beside his mother with such unshakable confidence in his father’s strength,

Vrishasena found himself wondering what kind of childhood the boy would remember when he was grown.

He had no intention of allowing his son to experience what he had endured.

The prince would not be forced to ascend a throne while still a child, surrounded by nobles waiting for an opportunity to strip him of his inheritance.

He would not have to learn to recognise betrayal before he had learned to trust another person, nor would he be forced to spill blood merely to prove that the crown upon his head belonged to him.

Vrishasena wanted his son to inherit a stable kingdom, a secure throne, and the confidence that his father had never been able to preserve for himself during those terrible early years.

Yet there was an irony in the thought that escaped him.

In his determination to ensure that his son would never be treated as he himself had been treated, Vrishasena had become a ruler who regarded challenges to his authority as threats that demanded decisive retaliation.

The same childhood that had taught him the terrible cost of losing power had also convinced him that a king must never allow an insult to stand, lest it become the first step towards his downfall.

And now, because Devara had stopped an Ashvamedha horse, that old fear had returned in a different form, concealed beneath the anger of a king who believed his honour had been questioned.

Vrishasena looked once more at his son, who had begun animatedly explaining to his mother how he intended to protect her while his father was away.

A faint smile appeared on the king’s face, and he allowed himself a moment to enjoy the sight before turning towards the attendants waiting to escort him to the royal armoury.

He would go to war if necessary.

He would defend his kingdom’s honour and ensure that no rival ruler mistook his restraint for weakness.

But as he walked away, one thought remained firmly in his mind.

’My son will never have to fight for his throne at ten years old. I will make certain of that, no matter what it takes.’

Trivenivrata...

Back in Trivenivrata, Devara stood beside the border outpost, observing the white stallion that had brought an unexpected crisis to his kingdom.

The horse had been provided with water and fodder, and although it remained restless under the watchful eyes of the soldiers, it had stopped struggling against its restraints.

A short distance away, the severed banner of Vrishabhapura lay upon the riverbank, its bull emblem still visible beneath the mud and water stains.

Devara had already heard Dronacharya’s account of the incident, but before deciding how to respond, he wanted to understand the ruler whose Ashvamedha horse had arrived at his borders.

Fortunately, he was surrounded by men who knew the neighbouring kingdoms and their rulers far better than he did.

Mahamantri Shakuni stood beside him, while Dronacharya, Karna, and Ashwatthama gathered nearby.

All three warriors had spent enough time dealing with kings and royal courts to recognise when a seemingly straightforward political incident might develop into something considerably more dangerous.

"So, what kind of man is this Vrishasena?"

Devara asked, turning towards Shakuni.

"I would prefer to know something about the king before deciding how to deal with him. From what I have heard, he is unlikely to take kindly to the fact that we have stopped his Ashvamedha horse."

Shakuni folded his hands behind his back and regarded the king thoughtfully.

"Your Majesty, Vrishasena is a ruler who places considerable importance upon authority, tradition, and the established hierarchy of his kingdom."

"He believes that society must remain organised according to the customs inherited from previous generations, and he has little patience for anyone who questions those customs. In particular, he is a firm supporter of the caste-based system that you abolished in Trivenivrata."

Devara’s expression remained neutral, although his attention sharpened at those words.

Shakuni continued,

"Your decision to allow people from different backgrounds to study together, especially within the gurukul, has never sat well with him. He considers such policies a direct challenge to the social order he believes every kingdom ought to preserve."

"The fact that other rulers have followed your example has only increased his resentment. When Hastinapur and several other influential kingdoms began sending their princes and children to study in your gurukul, it became increasingly difficult for him to dismiss your reforms as the foolish experiments of an inexperienced king."

Karna, who had been listening quietly, gave a slight nod.

"Mahamantri Shakuni is correct, Maharaja. Vrishasena is not merely someone who prefers traditional customs. He is a man who expects others to follow them, whether they agree with him or not."

"I have heard accounts of how strictly his administration enforces the duties and restrictions associated with birth. A person’s abilities or ambitions mean little if they conflict with the position Vrishasena believes that person ought to occupy."

His expression grew more serious as he glanced towards the captured horse.

"That is one reason your kingdom’s existence troubles him. You have demonstrated that a kingdom can prosper without enforcing the restrictions he considers essential. Worse for him, your success has encouraged other rulers to reconsider their own practices."

"From his perspective, Trivenivrata is not simply a neighbouring realm with different customs. It is an example that threatens the foundations of the system he wishes to preserve."

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(Author note:)

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