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Duryodhan woke up with a slow, contented smile as he felt the warm weight of Anya sprawled across him. Her soft, rhythmic breathing tickled his chest, and as he blinked himself awake, he couldn't help but chuckle. His wife, the queen of Hastinapur, looked more like a wrestling champion than royalty, limbs draped across him like she’d been fighting in her sleep.

Her arm was flung possessively across his chest, one leg tangled in the sheets, and her face pressed adorably into his side. Even in sleep, she was a handful.

“She really sleeps like she’s in the middle of a battle,” Duryodhan murmured to himself, his voice tinged with affection. Carefully, he reached over and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, pausing to admire how peaceful she looked. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

The past few days had been a whirlwind—Nakul’s looming marriage to Anya, his burning jealousy, their elopement, and finally, the sacred vows that bound her to him. Now, she was truly his, and the thought filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction and relief. She had chosen him, and there was no fear left, no threat of her slipping away into someone else's arms.

Still, despite his calm exterior, a small part of him felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn't exactly lived up to her romantic expectations last night. Anya, being the spirited and playful woman she was, had probably imagined something far more dramatic, but he had been exhausted—no, completely worn out.

He chuckled quietly to himself. *I’ll make it up to her.*

Slipping out of bed with care, Duryodhan moved across the room, freshening up and dressing in his royal attire. His eyes flickered back to Anya, who was still fast asleep, her face now smushed into the pillow, completely unaware of the world around her.

With a sigh, he sat back on the edge of the bed, leaning down close to her ear. “Anya, it’s morning,” he whispered, his deep voice soft. “Time to wake up.”

No response.

He gently shook her shoulder. “Anya, wake up.”

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

Raising an eyebrow, Duryodhan tried again, his tone a little more forceful. “Anya, it’s time to get up. You can’t sleep all day.”

Still, she didn’t stir. Instead, she mumbled something incoherent under her breath, turning her face further into the pillow, refusing to acknowledge his existence. Her only contribution to the conversation was a small snore, as if to make a point.

Duryodhan sighed, though a playful smile tugged at his lips. “You really are a stubborn one, aren’t you?”

He leaned down close to her ear, his voice dropping to a mischievous whisper. “Fine. I’ll just go eat all the sweets Tara prepared for us. You can stay here and sleep, if that’s what you prefer.”

At the mention of sweets, Anya’s eyes fluttered open—barely. “Sweets?” she mumbled groggily, her voice thick with sleep. “Where?”

Duryodhan laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Yes, sweets. But only if you get out of bed.”

Anya groaned dramatically, turning over and throwing an arm across her eyes. “Five more minutes,” she whined, her voice muffled. “I’m exhausted, okay? Looking this good is hard work.”

Duryodhan folded his arms, grinning down at her. “Oh? I thought warriors rose with the sun. Didn’t you say that yourself?”

She cracked one eye open, shooting him a half-hearted glare. “Warriors need their beauty sleep too, you know. Can’t fight battles looking like a mess.” She sighed dramatically, stretching out like a lazy cat, her gown tangled around her legs. “And let me remind you—I’ve had to marry you twice in the past few days. That’s exhausting.”

Duryodhan couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head at her antics. “You’re impossible.”

Anya groaned again, rolling over to face him, her eyes still half-closed. “Not to mention all the drama—eloping with you, dealing with Nakul’s disappointment. You have no idea how much effort it takes to handle all that and look pretty at the same time.”

Duryodhan raised an eyebrow, leaning over her with a smirk. “I’m sure it’s a lot of work. But I think you managed just fine.”

Anya peeked up at him, her mischievous grin returning. “You think so? Well, I would’ve expected a bit more effort from you last night. You know… considering it was our wedding night.”

Duryodhan’s smirk widened. “Oh? What exactly were you expecting, my little rabbit?”

Anya sighed, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation. “Something more dramatic! I’ve read enough dark romance novels to know how this is supposed to go. You didn’t even make it past a forehead kiss! I mean, come on. Where’s the passion? The fire?” She waved her hand theatrically. “You were supposed to sweep me off my feet, not… fall asleep.”

Duryodhan chuckled, his amusement clear in his dark eyes. “So, you wanted me to reenact one of your novels? Maybe next time, I’ll try harder.”

Anya’s grin widened as she pushed herself up on her elbows. “Well, you better. Next time, I expect full-on intensity. None of this ‘goodnight, Anya’ nonsense.”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “You’ll get your intensity, don’t worry.”

Anya’s playful grin faltered for just a second as she felt the weight of his words. There was something in his tone that sent a little shiver down her spine.

“And now,” Duryodhan continued, his voice low and teasing, “how about we start with getting you out of bed?”

Anya groaned again, dramatically flopping back onto the bed. “Ugh, fine! But only because you promised sweets.” She tossed off the blankets, reaching lazily for her robe. “This whole queen thing… way too much responsibility. I miss being just a rebellious bride.”

Duryodhan stood, offering her his hand with a fond smile. “I’m sure you’ll keep things interesting.”

Anya grinned cheekily, slipping her hand into his. “You better believe it. Otherwise, I might just have to elope again.”

Duryodhan chuckled, pulling her to her feet. “Not this time, Anya. You’re mine, remember?”

Anya winked playfully. “We’ll see about that.”

As the first rays of the morning sun bathed Dwarka in a soft, golden glow, Anya stood in front of her mirror, adjusting her earrings with a wistful smile. Her reflection was a mix of excitement and melancholy, emotions swirling within her heart. Today, she would leave the place that had become a second home, filled with warmth, laughter, and the gentle mischief of her family. She was returning to Hastinapur—her new home, her husband's home. It meant stepping back into her royal duties as the queen, but it also meant saying goodbye, at least for now, to the comfort and familiarity of Dwarka.

*At least I'll always have Krishna’s crazy antics to remember,* she thought with a soft chuckle, already missing his relentless teasing.

Dressed in a flowing, elegant saree of sky blue that fluttered gently as she moved, Anya stood tall, her hair neatly braided with delicate flowers woven into the strands. She took a deep breath, staring out at the vibrant hues of Dwarka's courtyard from her window, a bittersweet feeling settling deep in her chest. The beauty of the scene, with its flowers in full bloom and the sea's glistening waves in the distance, made it harder to leave.

"This isn’t really goodbye forever," she murmured to herself, "but it feels like it." After all, how often does one leave a brother-in-law who also happens to be the most mischievous god in the world?

Duryodhan stood at the door, watching her with a soft smile. "You look beautiful, my little rabbit," he said warmly, his eyes tracing every detail of her figure. "Are you ready?"

Anya turned to him with a teasing grin. "Do I have a choice?" she sighed dramatically. "If I had my way, I’d be lounging in Dwarka’s gardens, stuffing myself with laddoos instead of… ugh, royal responsibilities." She made a face, rolling her eyes for extra effect, making Duryodhan chuckle.

"Don’t worry, my love," he said, stepping closer and gently taking her hand. "Hastinapur won’t be as bad as you think. Besides, I’ll be there. I promise it won’t be dull."

"Oh?" Anya arched a brow, leaning in closer as if sharing a secret. "And how exactly do you plan to keep me entertained, my dear husband?" Her voice was playful, her eyes twinkling.

Duryodhan raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. "You’ll just have to wait and see."

Together, they stepped into the grand courtyard, and the moment Anya saw her family gathered there, her heart tightened. Devaki, Vasudev, Balaram, Krishna, and Rukmini stood together, waiting to bid her farewell. The sight of them filled her with emotion—love, happiness, and an unexpected sadness. Dwarka had been her refuge, and now she had to leave it behind.

Devaki was the first to approach, her eyes shining with maternal warmth. She immediately pulled Anya into a tight hug. "My child," she said softly, her voice full of emotion. "You’ve grown so much in such a short time. I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be an extraordinary queen in Hastinapur. You already have the strength and heart for it."

Anya returned the hug, her throat tightening as she tried not to cry. "I hope so, Ma. But I’m really going to miss you all. Especially your cooking," she added with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

Devaki smiled, brushing a tear from Anya’s cheek. "And we’ll miss you too, dear. But remember, no matter where you go, you always have a home here in Dwarka. My kitchen is always open for you."

Next came Vasudev, who placed a hand gently on Anya’s shoulder. His wise, steady presence always had a calming effect on her. "Anya, you’ve brought so much joy and laughter into our lives," he said with a soft chuckle. "Even Krishna has trouble keeping up with you."

Anya grinned through her tears. "Well, someone’s gotta keep Dwarka interesting. I can’t let Krishna hog all the fun."

From behind Vasudev, Krishna sauntered up with his trademark playful smile, arms crossed as he spoke. "Ah, little sister," he teased. "I thought I was the interesting one around here? You’re stealing my thunder."

Anya sniffed, trying not to burst into giggles. "If you’re ‘interesting,’ Brother, then I must be downright legendary." She stuck out her tongue at him, earning a laugh from everyone.

Rukmini stepped forward next, her hands cupping Anya’s face tenderly. "You’re always welcome to return, Anya, whenever you need a break from all that ‘legendary’ responsibility," she said with a knowing smile. "I’m sure Krishna would be more than happy to share his crown of mischief with you."

Anya blinked rapidly, fighting back her tears. "I might take you up on that offer, Rukmini Bhabhi. You know, just to keep him on his toes. It’s not like he has enough to do already."

Krishna threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Any time, little sister. Any time."

Then came Balaram. His towering presence and serious expression made Anya’s heart swell with affection. Though he always appeared so stoic, she knew he had a soft spot for her. His deep voice was steady but filled with unspoken emotion. "Anya," he began, his tone more serious than the others. "You’re not just leaving for Hastinapur. You’re representing Dwarka, your family, and yourself. Don’t let anyone push you around. You are strong, and you can handle anything. But if Duryodhan gives you any trouble…"

He glanced at Duryodhan, his voice trailing off with a teasing threat that made everyone chuckle.

Anya couldn’t help but smile up at him, her heart full. "Thanks, Dau. But I think I can handle Duryodhan just fine. I mean, if I survived eloping with him, I’m pretty sure I can survive anything."

Balaram let out a gruff chuckle before pulling her into a bear hug that nearly lifted her off her feet. "Just don’t forget to come visit often, alright?"

"I promise," Anya laughed, squirming slightly in his strong embrace. "Besides, how could I forget you? You still owe me a rematch in that wrestling contest."

As Balaram finally let her go, Krishna stepped forward again, his usual teasing softened. "Take care of yourself, Anya. Hastinapur can be… challenging, but I know you’ll handle it. And if things get too serious, just think of me. I’ll always be a source of chaos to keep you entertained."

Anya burst out laughing, her heart feeling lighter. "I’ll keep that in mind, Brother. Maybe I’ll start a little chaos of my own in Hastinapur."

Krishna’s eyes sparkled with amusement. "Now that I’d love to see."

With the final hugs and goodbyes shared, Anya felt a mixture of sadness and excitement bubble up within her. As she climbed into the chariot next to Duryodhan, her heart ached to leave but fluttered at the thought of her new life ahead. She turned to wave one last time at her family, tears and laughter still clinging to her.

Leaning into Duryodhan as the horses began to trot, Anya sighed, her voice soft but filled with determination. "Well, here we go… back to Hastinapur. The land of endless royal duties."

Duryodhan wrapped an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder gently. "Don’t worry, my little rabbit. You’ll make Hastinapur far more exciting than it’s ever been."

Anya grinned up at him, her eyes gleaming with playful mischief. "You have no idea, Duryodhan. No idea at all."