9.
Morning sunlight poured across Dwarka like liquid gold.
The island kingdom had already awakened fully long before sunrise itself.
Temple bells echoed across the sea-facing cliffs while white birds circled endlessly above glittering palace domes crowned with fluttering Yadava banners.
Below the marble terraces, the western ocean crashed rhythmically against the fortified walls surrounding the city, the sound deep enough to tremble faintly beneath one's feet.
Sea winds carried everything together—
salt,
incense,
sandalwood,
fresh jasmine garlands from temple courtyards.
Dwarka never felt still.
It breathed.
Laughed.
Lived.
And somehow—
every corner of it seemed brighter wherever Krishna walked.
Near the western training arena overlooking the ocean, the sharp clash of steel rang repeatedly through the morning air.
Arjuna stood at the center of the sandstone courtyard beneath blazing sunlight, dark hair loosely tied back while sweat glimmered faintly against his throat.
Around him, four Yadava soldiers attempted desperately—and unsuccessfully—to corner him during sparring.
One lost his sword entirely.
Another stumbled backward after barely blocking a strike.
The remaining two abandoned strategy altogether and simply tried surviving.
From the upper marble balconies surrounding the arena, laughter erupted instantly.
Dau sat sprawled comfortably against one carved stone pillar above, broad shoulders relaxed beneath flowing white silks while one heavy arm rested lazily across the railing.
"You are bullying them now," Balaram announced cheerfully.
Below him, Arjuna disarmed another unfortunate warrior before sighing tiredly.
"They attacked me together."
"They attacked you respectfully."
"That is still attacking."
Near the shaded pavilion adjoining the balcony sat the rest of the royal family watching the morning chaos unfold.
Revati rested gracefully beside one open archway while attendants arranged trays of cut fruits nearby. Satyabhama leaned comfortably against embroidered cushions glittering beneath layers of gold jewelry, visibly entertained already.
And beside them—
Subhadra had entirely forgotten the lotus flowers she was supposedly arranging.
Her gaze remained fixed toward the arena below far too often.
Satyabhama noticed first.
Of course she did.
"Subhadra," she called sweetly while adjusting the bangles against her wrist, "you have been holding that flower upside down for several minutes."
Immediately Subhadra straightened.
"I am observing combat techniques."
"You are observing one combat technique."
Revati laughed softly beneath her breath while even Rukmini's lips curved faintly beside Krishna.
And Krishna—
Krishna looked radiant in the morning light.
Not because of jewels.
Not because of royal silks.
Simply because he existed like sunlight existed.
Effortlessly.
One arm rested lazily against the marble railing while sea winds moved softly through the dark curls brushing near his forehead.
The deep blue silk draped across his frame shifted gently beneath the breeze while gold reflected warm against the dusky skin of his wrists and throat.
Calmness surrounded him strangely.
Not cold calmness.
Not distant divinity.
The kind that drew people closer without realizing why.
Even now, several younger attendants passing through the courtyard glanced toward him unconsciously before quickly lowering their eyes again.
Krishna noticed every single one.
And smiled anyway.
Small.
Knowing.
Dangerously charming.
Below them, the final Yadava soldier surrendered dramatically by collapsing onto the sandstone floor.
"I value my life," he announced breathlessly.
"That is wise," Arjuna replied while handing his sword toward a nearby attendant.
The surrounding warriors groaned loudly while servants rushed forward carrying water and clean cloths beneath the blazing heat.
Then slowly—
dangerously—
Dau descended the marble staircase toward the courtyard floor.
The mood shifted instantly.
Because whenever Balaram wore that expression. Which is already very rare as among the sibling trio , Kanha was rumoured to be the mischievous one—
someone was about to suffer.
Usually Krishna.
Occasionally Arjuna.
Today unfortunately—
Arjuna.
Reaching the arena below, Dau accepted a silver goblet from one passing servant before stopping directly beside Arjuna with the ease of an older brother preparing violence disguised as affection.
Then casually—
far too casually—he spoke.
"So."
Immediately Arjuna looked suspicious.
"So what?"
Dau took one slow sip before answering.
"This princess of Vanga."
Above them, Subhadra nearly dropped the lotus flower entirely while Satyabhama visibly brightened with interest.
Krishna remained silent beside the pavilion railing.
Watching.
Arjuna closed his eyes briefly already.
"I knew this would continue."
Dau looked delighted.
"You described her like a man standing beneath moonlight composing poetry for river maidens."
"I described the kingdom."
"No," Dau corrected immediately. "You described her."
"I did not."
Dau gasped dramatically before turning toward the pavilion.
"Kanha," he called loudly, "did he not sound enchanted yesterday?"
Krishna lowered his goblet slowly.
For one brief moment amusement flickered openly within his eyes.
Warm.
Golden.
Entirely unfair.
"He sounded unusually descriptive," Krishna admitted mildly.
Instant betrayal.
Arjuna looked genuinely wounded now.
"You too?"
Krishna's smile deepened slightly.
"What?" he asked innocently. "You spoke beautifully."
Subhadra dissolved immediately into helpless laughter while even Revati turned away hiding amusement behind her cup.
Meanwhile Dau had only grown stronger.
"You notice her immediately," he repeated dramatically, mimicking Arjuna's thoughtful tone from the previous evening. "Everything softens around her."
Satyabhama pressed one hand against her heart theatrically.
"Oh no," she sighed. "He remembers the exact wording."
"He remembers because he was emotionally moved," Dau replied wisely.
"I was not emotionally moved."
"You described her eyes."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did," Subhadra interrupted instantly.
Arjuna stared upward in betrayal.
"Why were you listening so carefully?"
Subhadra looked deeply offended.
"Because it was interesting."
"Because it sounded romantic," Satyabhama corrected.
Across the courtyard, several younger guards visibly struggled not to laugh aloud while attendants carrying towels suspiciously slowed their pace nearby.
Arjuna rubbed one tired hand across his forehead.
"This palace lacks discipline."
"True," Krishna agreed mildly.
The betrayal deepened.
Dau meanwhile folded his arms triumphantly.
"And this sacred flame business," he continued mercilessly. "You looked positively haunted describing it."
At that—
the teasing softened slightly.
The sea winds rushed stronger through the courtyard below while temple bells echoed faintly from distant shrines near the ocean cliffs.
Arjuna exhaled quietly then.
"It was strange," he admitted more thoughtfully.
Dau noticed immediately.
"So the stories are true?"
Arjuna nodded once.
"She never lets the flame out of her sight."
For a moment nobody interrupted.
The mood shifted subtly quieter beneath the crashing waves below the palace cliffs.
Then Dau tilted his head toward Arjuna again.
"And the princess herself?" he asked more calmly now. "What did you truly think of her?"
For the first time since the teasing began—
Arjuna hesitated.
The ocean roared softly below them.
Sunlight shimmered against sandstone floors.
White birds wheeled endlessly through sapphire skies overhead.
Then finally—Arjuna spoke quietly.
"She does not feel ordinary."
Silence lingered briefly afterward.
Not uncomfortable.
Simply thoughtful.
And from the pavilion above—
Krishna's gaze lifted fully toward Arjuna for the first time since the conversation began.
The teasing amusement faded slightly from his expression then.
Not jealousy.
Not possessiveness.
Nothing so immediate.
Only—interest.
Sharp enough to notice.
Quiet enough for nobody around him to understand.
Except perhaps Dau.
Because very slowly—Balaram's grin widened.