The air hung thick with the cloying scent of jasmine and crushed rose petals,  Siddharth sat on the edge of the massive mahogany frame,  exposing a chest that rose and fell in a slow, rhythmic cadence. He did not look up .....she already said as much as he could think.......His eyes remained fixed on the flickering oil lamps that cast long, dancing shadows across the gold-leafed walls. It's morning and now they are not lightning.

"The palace is finally quiet, Maharaj," Rupa said, her voice a low hum that vibrated in the stillness.