10.
The Shravan festival turned Vanga restless in the most beautiful way possible.
For three days, the kingdom glowed.
Rain drifted endlessly from heavy silver skies while every street below the palace shimmered beneath rows of flickering oil lamps reflected against wet stone roads.
Temple bells rang from dawn till deep into the night, their echoes blending with devotional songs, distant drums, merchant chatter, and the constant murmur of crowds moving through flower-filled market streets.
Even the palace itself had surrendered to celebration.
Servants hurried endlessly through corridors carrying trays of sweets and garlands while musicians practiced near open courtyards fragrant with incense and rainwater. Every balcony dripped with jasmine strings and marigold chains swaying softly beneath cool monsoon winds.
And inside Devasena's chambers—chaos reigned peacefully.
The large open room glowed warmly beneath dozens of hanging brass lamps.
Rain tapped softly beyond the carved stone balconies while silks, jewelry boxes, flower baskets, and half-opened perfume bottles covered nearly every available surface.
Dushala sat before one large bronze mirror while two younger attendants attempted weaving fresh mogra flowers into her long dark braid.
Attempted being the important word.
"Ow—"
"One moment, Rajkumari."
"You said that five moments ago."
From nearby cushions, Devasena looked up immediately from where she sat sorting bangles into absolutely unnecessary categories.
"They're hurting you?"
Shona sighed loudly before the attendants could answer.
"They are arranging flowers, not staging an assassination."
Dushala laughed softly beneath her breath while catching Devasena's concerned expression through the mirror.
"She's exaggerating."
"I heard pain in your voice."
"There was mild suffering."
"That still counts."
Devasena abandoned the bangles instantly and crossed the room, anklets chiming softly against the marble floor.
The movement itself said enough about her.
She never drifted anywhere gracefully like royal women were taught to.
She arrived places.
Quickly.
Curiously.
Like her thoughts moved faster than palace etiquette allowed.
Reaching Dushala, she tilted her head inspecting the flowers critically.
"You're pulling too tightly," she informed the attendants with complete confidence despite clearly knowing nothing about hairstyling.
One older maid raised an eyebrow.
"And the princess suddenly became an expert?"
"I understand discomfort."
"You once tangled your own braid into a curtain."
"That happened once."
"It happened twice."
Ruti immediately burst into laughter from across the room where she sat untangling pearl necklaces.
Dushala covered her smile with one hand as Devasena narrowed her eyes in betrayal.
"This palace keeps records against me."
"Because you create incidents regularly," Shona replied dryly.
Rain drizzled softly beyond the open arches while cool wind carried the scent of wet earth and jasmine deeper into the room. Somewhere below the palace balconies, temple drums began sounding slowly through the city.
The atmosphere felt warm.
Unhurried.
The kind of evening where conversations wandered naturally without anyone noticing time passing.
Eventually the attendants finished Dushala's braid and stepped away proudly.
Devasena immediately leaned closer inspecting it with unnecessary seriousness.
"Hm."
Dushala looked wary instantly.
"That sound never means anything good."
"I think you need different earrings."
Shona closed her eyes briefly.
"Mahadev give me patiene."
Before anyone could stop her, Devasena disappeared toward the jewelry table near the windows where moonlight and lamp glow reflected across scattered gold pieces.
She crouched before it carelessly, pushing aside necklaces, bangles, and anklets with complete disregard for organization.
"You own too much jewelry," Dushala observed.
"You sound like my mother."
"Your mother is wise.
"
"Traitor."
A small smile tugged at Dushala's mouth as she watched Devasena continue searching with complete focus, lower lip caught briefly between her teeth in concentration.
She looked softer during moments like this.
Less royal.
More... young.
Finally Devasena brightened triumphantly before holding up delicate moonstone earrings toward the lantern light.
"These."
Dushala blinked.
"Those are beautiful."
"I know."
"You sound personally responsible for creating them.
"
"I chose them last winter."
"That explains everything.
"
The room dissolved into quiet laughter again.
A few moments later, while Ruti arranged silk dupattas nearby, the conversation shifted lazily toward the royal guests who had visited weeks earlier.
Naturally.
Because young women left together long enough eventually spoke of men.
"I still think Prince Yuyutsu was handsome," Ruti declared suddenly.
Shona looked scandalized immediately.
"You cannot announce such things openly.
"
"Why not? Nobody here is a sage."
Dushala hid another smile while Devasena sat beside the jewelry table listening absently now, one hand resting against her cheek.
"He was kind," Dushala admitted thoughtfully. "Quiet, but kind."
"That makes men more handsome," Ruti informed everyone wisely.
"No," Shona corrected. "That makes them tolerable."
The girls burst into laughter.
Meanwhile Dushala adjusted one moonstone earring thoughtfully before glancing toward Devasena.
"What about Arjuna?"
At that, even Devasena looked mildly interested.
"The archer prince?"
"Yes."
"He looked exhausted constantly," she replied honestly.
Dushala laughed immediately.
"That is because Bhima never lets him rest."
"And Bhima eats enough for six kingdoms," Ruti added.
"Eight," Shona corrected solemnly.
The room dissolved again.
But Dushala noticed something quietly then.
Whenever conversations turned toward beauty or attraction or admiration—
Devasena listened more than she spoke.
Not shyly.
Curiously.
As though observing something she had not fully decided she understood yet.
So Dushala tilted her head slightly and asked casually—
"And what sort of man would impress you?"
The room quieted at once.
Ruti immediately pretended intense interest in folding silks.
Shona looked openly invested.
Devasena blinked once
Then narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
"This feels dangerous."
"It is only a question."
"That is how traps begin."
Dushala laughed softly.
"You are seventeen, not a forest hermit."
"Some days I consider becoming one."
"Answer properly."
Devasena leaned backward against the cushions dramatically, bangles sliding softly down her wrists while rain continued whispering against the balconies outside.
For a moment she genuinely considered it.
The lantern flames flickered gold against her face.
Temple bells echoed faintly somewhere across the rain-covered city.
Then quietly—almost absently—
she murmured,
"I think I would like someone who feels impossible to ignore."
Nobody interrupted.
So she continued slowly, searching for the thought while speaking it.
"Not because he demands attention." Her fingers played idly with one jasmine flower resting near her lap. "But because when he enters a place... everything changes a little."
Dushala's expression softened faintly.
Ruti stopped folding silks entirely now.
Even Shona looked thoughtful.
Devasena however remained unaware of their reactions, gaze drifting toward the rain beyond the balconies.
"Someone , who's only mine ? I do not want to share my husband with other women thought its not in my hand and maybe someone as mischievous and peaceful as a kitten and a peacock because I don't think I could survive being bored for the rest of my life," she admitted honestly.
A pause followed.
Then—
without turning back—she added very seriously, "And preferably handsome , in fact the most handsome the world has ever seen.
Someone who steals heart effortlessly." Ruti collapsed laughing first.
Dushala followed immediately after, head falling against the cushions while helpless laughter escaped her properly this time.
Even Shona gave up with a disapproving snort hiding her smile.
And Devasena—
finally realizing she had accidentally become sincere—looked deeply offended by everyone's amusement.