8.
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Morning descended upon Vanga wrapped in silver river mist and pale gold sunlight.
The palace courtyards, once overflowing with wedding musicians and endless celebrations, had finally quieted after days of festivity.
Flower petals still scattered across the marble pathways in shades of crimson and saffron while long strands of jasmine swayed gently from carved palace balconies overlooking the eastern waters.
Everything felt softer today.
Quieter.
Like joy settling after excitement.
Near the grand entrance courtyard, the departure processions had already begun assembling beneath fluttering royal banners bearing the sigils of Hastinapur and Indraprastha.
Horses stamped restlessly against stone while attendants hurried across the palace grounds carrying provisions, silks, and ceremonial gifts meant for the returning guests.
At the center of it all stood Dushala beside Dyumsena.
And somehow—
the princess who had arrived days ago trembling beneath uncertainty now looked entirely different.Comfortable.
The change was small.Visible only in little things.The way her shoulders no longer remained tense.
The way her laughter arrived easier now.The way she stood closer toward Dyumsena without realizing it.
Queen Vaidehi noticed every bit of it quietly.
The queen stood beside her daughter-in-law now, adjusting the edge of Dushala's veil with gentle fingers while speaking softly about the upcoming river festival traditions of Vanga.
"You need not wake before sunrise for the offerings," Vaidehi reassured her kindly. "Your husband barely rises before the second conch shell himself."
Immediately Dushala looked startled.
Slowly—
very slowly—
she turned toward Dyumsena.The crown prince looked deeply betrayed already.
"Mother."
Nearby, Devasena outright laughed while King Veerendra failed spectacularly at hiding amusement beside the royal guards.
"It is true," the king admitted calmly. "As a child he once attempted declaring mornings unconstitutional."
"I was six."
"You were dramatic."
Across the courtyard, Bhima nearly choked laughing.
"I like this kingdom more each passing moment."
"You say that because they keep feeding you," Arjuna informed him calmly from nearby.
Bhima looked genuinely offended by the accusation.
"That is only partially true."
Near the lower palace steps, Yuyutsu mounted his horse quietly while servants secured travel satchels behind him.
Unlike Bhima's loud presence or Arjuna's composed stillness, Yuyutsu carried a quieter warmth around him—one that made even palace attendants smile easily in his company.
Dushala approached him first.
For a brief moment, the younger Kaurava brother's expression softened visibly at the sight of her.
"Rajkumari," he greeted gently.
At that familiar title, Dushala smiled faintly.
"You are still calling me that?"
"You shall always remain Hastinapur's princess too."
Something inside her eyes flickered softly then.
Homesickness perhaps.
Yuyutsu noticed instantly.
His voice gentled further.
"Maharani Gandhari will rest easier hearing of your happiness here."
At the mention of her mother, Dushala lowered her gaze briefly before nodding once.
"Tell Mata I miss her already."
"I will."
Then after a pause—
with unmistakable fondness—
Yuyutsu added quietly, "And I shall inform the palace that Vanga appears determined to spoil you entirely.
"
That finally earned a proper laugh from her.
Nearby, Dyumsena watched the exchange silently before stepping forward himself.
The two princes clasped forearms firmly beneath the morning light.
"You are welcome in Vanga whenever you wish," Dyumsena said sincerely.
Yuyutsu smiled faintly.
"I may return simply for the peace."
"That peace disappears near meal times," Arjuna remarked.
Immediately everyone looked toward Bhima.
The Pandava prince looked unashamed.
"They cook exceptionally well here."
"You consumed enough for several armies," Devasena informed him.
Bhima placed one dramatic hand over his chest.
"Princess, you wound me deeply."
"That is because truth hurts."
"It is because you refuse to send sweets with me."
King Veerendra folded his arms calmly.
"We prepared three separate trunks for you."
Bhima blinked.
Slowly—
his expression turned emotional.
"No one has ever understood me like Vanga."
The courtyard dissolved into laughter once more.
Even the palace guards failed at remaining composed.
Yet amidst the warmth of departing conversations, Arjuna stood strangely quieter than before.
His gaze drifted occasionally toward the western horizon.
Toward Dwarka.
Toward someone.
Devasena noticed eventually.
"You are leaving immediately?" she asked curiously while standing beside the sacred travel lantern housing her diya.
The golden flame glowed steadily behind the carved screens despite the drifting morning winds.
As always—
her eyes returned toward it unconsciously every few moments.
Arjuna nodded once.
"It has been too long since I visited Madhav."
And there it was again.
That shift.
Small.
Subtle.
Yet unmistakably lighter.
Bhima noticed instantly.
"Oh no," he groaned dramatically from nearby. "He has started already."
Arjuna looked unimpressed.
"What now?"
"The Kanha face."
Yuyutsu lowered his head immediately hiding laughter while even Dushala smiled knowingly beside Dyumsena.
Devasena frowned curiously.
"The Kanha face?"
Bhima pointed toward Arjuna like a scholar presenting sacred evidence.
"He becomes unbearable after too many days away from Dwarkadhish."
"That is rich coming from you," Arjuna replied calmly.
"It is loyalty."
"It is dependence."
"It is brotherhood."
"It is emotional weakness."
Bhima gasped loudly in betrayal while Devasena laughed before she could stop herself.Bright.Unrestrained.
The sound lingered strangely within the courtyard for a brief moment.
Arjuna noticed it.
So did Dyumsena.
But before either could say anything, Queen Vaidehi stepped forward gently toward the departing guests carrying silver trays prepared for farewell blessings.
The atmosphere softened once more into ritual.
Sacred ash pressed upon foreheads.
Protective prayers murmured softly beneath drifting incense smoke.
Flower petals scattering beneath hooves.
And then—
one by one—
the guests departed Vanga.
Bhima toward Indraprastha.
Yuyutsu toward Hastinapur.
And Arjuna—
westward.
Toward Dwarka.
—
Twilight painted Dwarka in gold by the time Arjuna arrived.
The island kingdom rose from the western seas like something imagined by celestial poets rather than mortal architects. Towering white palaces crowned with golden domes overlooked endless sapphire waters while bridges arched gracefully across illuminated canals below.
Everything gleamed.
The marble.
The sea.
The jewels.
Even the air itself felt brighter here.
Conch shells echoed faintly from distant temples dedicated to Narayan while sea winds carried the scent of incense and salt through bustling palace courtyards overflowing with guards, musicians, priests, and servants alike.
And at the center of it all—
stood Krishna.
Arjuna had barely dismounted before Madhav descended the palace steps toward him.
No royal announcement preceded him.
No ceremony.
No attendants rushing ahead.
He simply appeared.
Effortlessly.
The ocean breeze stirred softly through the dark blue silk draped across his shoulders while the final gold rays of sunset glimmered faintly against the jewels resting upon his chest. Calmness followed him strangely—as though the world itself unconsciously softened around his existence.
Then he smiled.
Warmly.
Entirely.
"Kiritin," Krishna greeted, voice smooth with unmistakable affection. "You survived Hastinapur politics once more."
Arjuna exhaled a quiet laugh before embracing him tightly.
"You sound disappointed."
"I had wagers prepared."
From the upper marble staircase, Balaram snorted loudly.
"You both speak as though assassination attempts are seasonal inconveniences."
"They practically are," Krishna replied mildly.
The palace guards nearby failed entirely at hiding smiles.
Then suddenly—
silver anklets rang sharply across marble.
Subhadra entered the courtyard with enough excitement to scandalize at least three royal instructors before stopping abruptly upon realizing everyone was watching her.
Immediately composure returned.
Mostly.
"You arrived without sending word again," she accused while approaching Arjuna quickly beneath flowing yellow silks.
Arjuna looked entirely unapologetic.
"I enjoy dramatic entrances."
"You arrived covered in dust."
"That is still dramatic."
Near the staircase, Krishna lowered his gaze briefly hiding amusement while Balaram noticed immediately.
"Oh no," he muttered beneath his breath.
Revati glanced toward him knowingly from beside the pillars.
"You noticed too?"
"He has that expression again."
Krishna looked innocent. "What expression?"
Neither answered.
Because Subhadra was already speaking again.
"Well?" she demanded impatiently while walking beside Arjuna toward the inner palace halls. "How was Dushala? Did she cry? Was the prince terrible? Did Bhima frighten the kingdom?"
"Bhima frightens every kingdom," Revati replied calmly behind them.
"That is because kingdoms lack courage," Bhima would have argued passionately if present.
Warm lamplight glowed across the private dining chambers overlooking the sea by the time they entered.
Devaki and Vasudev already sat near the head of the long marble table while attendants moved silently arranging trays of saffron rice, fruits, and sweetened milk beneath rows of flickering golden lamps.
Rukmini sat serene as moonlight itself beside Satyabhama, whose sharp curious gaze lifted instantly toward Arjuna the moment he entered.
"Well?" Satyabhama asked immediately. "How was Vanga?"
Arjuna finally seated himself with a quiet exhale.
"The kingdom is beautiful."
"That explains absolutely nothing," Satyabhama informed him.
Across from her, Rukmini smiled faintly into her goblet.
"It explains enough from him."
Subhadra leaned forward eagerly.
"And Dushala?"
"She is happy."
Relief softened her expression instantly.
"And the prince?"
"Dyumsena is calm," Arjuna admitted thoughtfully. "Intelligent. Entirely devoted to her already."
"Hm." Satyabhama leaned back against embroidered cushions thoughtfully. "Unexpectedly decent."
Then Revati spoke for the first time.
"Speaking of appearances..." Her gaze lifted curiously toward Arjuna. "I heard the princess of Vanga turned out exceptionally beautiful."
At that—
Krishna's fingers stilled once against the silver goblet resting loosely within his hand.
Small.
Brief.
Almost invisible.
No one noticed.
"My maternal relatives from the eastern regions used to speak of her often," Revati continued thoughtfully. "Vanga and Ananta have shared traditions for generations."
Subhadra immediately leaned forward again.
"The younger sister?"
Arjuna hesitated unexpectedly.
Not because he wished to exaggerate.Because strangely—he did not know how to explain Devasena properly.
"The poets were not exaggerating," he admitted finally.Satyabhama straightened instantly.
"Oh?"
Balaram sighed deeply already.
"This sounds troublesome.
"
"No," Arjuna corrected quietly. "Not troublesome. "
His gaze drifted briefly toward the sea beyond the open pillars.
"You notice her immediately," he said at last. "Not because she wishes to be noticed.
Simply because..." He frowned faintly searching for words.
"Everything around her softens."
Silence lingered briefly afterward.
Subhadra looked fascinated.
"She sounds lovely.
"
"She resembles Vanga itself somehow," Arjuna continued thoughtfully.
"Graceful until suddenly stubborn. Refined in court.
Entirely chaotic outside it."
Subhadra smiled instantly.
"I already like her."
"She released peacocks into royal archives," Arjuna added calmly.
Satyabhama laughed outright.
"No wonder."
"And the flame?" Subhadra asked suddenly, eyes bright with curiosity now. "The sacred diya tied to her future husband's fate?"
The atmosphere shifted slightly.
Curiosity deepened.
Arjuna nodded once.
"She carries it everywhere."
"Everywhere?" Satyabhama repeated incredulously.
"She watches over it constantly."
Revati looked thoughtful now.
"Eastern kingdoms still preserve many ancient river rituals," she murmured quietly.
"That sounds exhausting," Subhadra admitted.
"Or suspicious," Satyabhama remarked lightly, though sharpness lingered faintly beneath her tone.
Beside her, Rukmini turned her head slightly.
"Bhama."
Nothing more.
Just her name.
Yet immediately Satyabhama sighed dramatically and leaned back against the cushions.
"I said nothing."
"You were about to."
"I distrust prophecies."
For the first time in several moments—
Krishna finally spoke.
Calmly.
Softly.
His eyes though , holding another level of turmoil disguised beneath the mysterious aura he carries himself with.
"Most prophecies deserve distrust."
The room settled strangely around his voice.
And though nobody noticed it—
not Arjuna, not Subhadra, not even observant Rukmini—
Krishna's gaze lingered thoughtfully upon one flickering palace lamp for one brief moment longer than necessary.
"You've put me in a difficult position this time," He whispered the last part , looking towards the direction of Mount Kailash.