~Jadeite~

Not a Jadeite!

The ring was stolen again!

It had been through the battles with Emperor Ashoka on his victories across Bharat. It was plundered later by the Mughal dynasty and passed along the royal lineage until it landed in the satchel of the petty thief who stole it from jewellery box of queen Jodha of King Akbar. He was later beheaded and the ring recovered to be donned on the delicate fingers of the Queen of Emperor Shahjahan, the woman for whom the love struck emperor had built the stupendous Taj Mahal. It crossed the sea on the indigo uniform of the Royal British soldier of the East India Company who took it from the depths of Bahadur Shah Zafar's treasure coves. It later stayed for a while on the voluptuous bosom of his lover in a thick golden chain. She threw it in violent outrage when she learned of her beau's affair with the Indian girl. It was then that the Jadeite on the ring bore on it a crack that ran deep and everlasting through the veins of the precious stone making it immortal with it's long mesmerising history. For what was a stone so perfect that it wouldn't tell a story of Love and Passion? In the hands of the heartbroken English lady it was uncared for and soon lost, and quite forgotten!

And just like that, a century later, it appeared for auction in custom seized goods. A man of intelligence and an ardent collector bought the ancient Ring for a minimal price of twenty grands! Much delighted at his own hearty win he walked with the bejewelled ring back home and examined it carefully. The intense green jadeite must have been atleast seven carats or more. The light fell on it softly as if even the sun was afraid of damaging the defected stone. The polished gold held the stone delicately in its hand-crafted embrace. It emitted a translucent hue against the sun and his eyes sparkled at the immense beauty! He sat watching it, transfixed by its magnificent beauty, lost in the dreams of his plush future for hours.

The next morning he was found dead on his bed stabbed through the heart and nothing was taken. The murder was pronounced as a crime of passion or revenge, his recently divorced wife as the main suspect! Little did anyone know of His latest acquisition at the auction or Aanya's passionate resolve to win what was hers back.

The cacophony in the background was drowned in the inner resounding of her actions, but the Royal blood in Aanya's heart made her indifferent to death and blood shed. She smiled and walked away with a strut of a victor, a huge ravishing green ring on her finger, that made the sun shy away!

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