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As the grand chariot carrying Anya and Duryodhan rolled into the gates of Hastinapur, Anya’s heart fluttered with anticipation. Though she had visited before, this time felt different. She was returning as the wife of Duryodhan, the queen of Hastinapur’s future. It was a role she embraced with grace, but she couldn’t help but feel the weight of the responsibilities that came with it.

Stepping out of the chariot, Anya adjusted her saree, her posture elegant and respectful. Duryodhan stood beside her with a protective smile, as the royal family of Hastinapur gathered to welcome them.

Gandhari, with her blindfold as ever, was the first to approach. Her hands extended with warmth and love, and though her eyes could not see, her heart reached out to Anya.

"My daughter," Gandhari greeted softly, her voice filled with affection. "You are now truly part of this family, though you’ve always been in our hearts."

Anya moved forward gracefully, bending slightly as she took Gandhari’s hands in hers. "Mata, it is an honor to return home. I am blessed to be welcomed so warmly."

Gandhari smiled, brushing her hand over Anya’s head in blessing. "You have a kind heart, Anya. I can feel it. May your presence bring light to Hastinapur, just as it has to Duryodhan."

Dhritarashtra, tall and imposing, stepped forward next, his expression warm. Though blind, his power and authority were undeniable. "Welcome, Anya," he said, his deep voice resonating through the courtyard. "You are the pride of our family now."

Anya bowed her head respectfully, folding her hands. "I am humbled to be a part of this great dynasty. I will do my utmost to honor you and the family."

Dhritarashtra smiled, pleased by her words. "You already have, my child. I see the love between you and Duryodhan, and that is the strength of our future."

Next, Pitamah Bhishma approached, his towering figure radiating wisdom and authority. Anya felt a deep respect for him, knowing the legacy he carried. She folded her hands and bowed deeply before him. "Pitamah, I seek your blessings as I take my place in Hastinapur."

Bhishma’s eyes softened as he raised his hand in blessing. "Anya, you are a woman of great spirit and grace. I have no doubt you will be a guiding force in this family. Your journey may not always be easy, but you have the strength to rise above any challenge."

Anya smiled gratefully, feeling the weight of his words. "I will remember your guidance always, Pitamah."

Vidur was next, and though his presence was less commanding, his wisdom was unparalleled. He smiled kindly as he regarded Anya. "Anya, you bring much joy and vitality to this house. Hastinapur is fortunate to have you."

Anya inclined her head with a warm smile. "Thank you, Uncle. Your wisdom is something I greatly admire, and I hope to learn much from you."

Vidur chuckled softly. "You are wise beyond your years, my child. That will serve you well in the days ahead."

Finally, it was Shakuni’s turn. His sharp eyes gleamed with cunning, and Anya could feel the undercurrents of his calculating mind. His smile was friendly, yet there was something unspoken behind it.

"Ah, Anya," Shakuni said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "What a delight it is to have you here. You will undoubtedly bring a new spark to Hastinapur."

Anya, ever polite, folded her hands and smiled softly. "Thank you, Uncle. I am grateful to be welcomed with such warmth. I hope to bring joy and peace to our family."

Shakuni’s gaze flickered briefly, his smile widening slightly. "I have no doubt you will, dear Anya."

As the formalities concluded, Duryodhan’s brothers gathered near the entrance, eager to meet their new sister-in-law. Karna stood with them, his ever-observant eyes twinkling with amusement. They had heard much about Anya, but this was the first time they were meeting her as their bhabhi.

Karna was the first to approach, his tone lighthearted. "Anya, it seems Duryodhan has been quite the lucky man to win your heart. He’s been talking non-stop about you ever since."

Anya laughed softly, her demeanor still poised. "Oh, I wouldn’t say that. It took him a while to realize what a gem he had in front of him."

Duryodhan shot her a playful look, but before he could respond, his brothers gathered around, looking a bit unsure of how to interact with their new sister-in-law. Dushasan, the boldest of them, finally spoke. "We were expecting someone... um, different, Bhabhi. You’re nothing like what we imagined."

Anya raised an eyebrow, still smiling. "Oh? And what did you imagine, Dushasan?"

He scratched his head awkwardly, glancing at the others. "Well, we thought you might be... you know, shy, like other bhabhis."

Anya chuckled, shaking her head. "Shy? Oh, dear. I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong idea about me. I’m just as bold as your brother, if not more."

Vikarna, one of the quieter brothers, looked startled. "Bhabhi, we’ve never met anyone like you."

Anya grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "That’s because there’s no one like me. But don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. After all, I’m family now, and family sticks together, right?"

Karna couldn’t contain his laughter, clapping Duryodhan on the shoulder. "You’ve really met your match, Duryodhan. Anya’s going to keep you on your toes."

Duryodhan smirked, pulling Anya close. "I wouldn’t have it any other way."

The evening sky of Hastinapur slowly began to darken, the cool breeze carrying with it a sense of peace. Anya, tired from the long journey from Dwarka, entered the royal chamber she now shared with Duryodhan. The room was grand yet cozy, with ornate decorations that reflected their royal status. Heavy drapes adorned the large windows, and the soft glow of oil lamps cast a warm light across the room.

Anya let out a soft sigh of relief as she removed her heavy jewelry and lay down on the plush bed. The softness of the sheets and the quiet of the room were a welcome comfort after the day's festivities and meetings. Her eyes fluttered shut, and soon, she drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Meanwhile, outside the chamber, Duryodhan stood in the hallway, conversing with his uncle, Shakuni. The sly gleam in Shakuni's eyes hinted at the plans and schemes always swirling in his mind. He placed a hand on Duryodhan’s shoulder, his voice low but filled with calculated intent.

"You've done well, my boy," Shakuni began, his tone smooth and approving. "Marrying Anya was a wise decision. Even though she’s adopted, her connection to Dwarka strengthens your position. If Nakul had married her, the Pandavas would have gained the full support of Dwarka. But you have her now. Still, there is more to be done. You need to form another strong alliance—marry into another kingdom that would benefit us politically."

Duryodhan's face hardened at his uncle's words, his jaw tightening. He stepped back from Shakuni, shaking his head. "Mama, enough. My relationship with Anya is not political. I didn’t marry her to secure alliances or to play your games of power. Don’t drag her into this. She’s my wife, not a pawn in your strategies."

Shakuni’s smile didn’t waver, though his eyes sharpened slightly. "My dear child, you are letting emotions cloud your judgment. I’m not suggesting you disregard her, no. But now that you have her, you must think of the bigger picture. Anya has given us an advantage, but it’s not enough. You need to strengthen our power. Another marriage, with the right princess, could—"

Before Shakuni could finish, Duryodhan’s temper flared. His voice cut through the air like a sharp blade. "No, Mama! I don’t need another alliance. I don’t want it. Only Anya will sit beside me as my queen. No one else."

Shakuni watched as Duryodhan turned sharply, his robes flowing behind him as he stormed off toward the chamber. Behind his calm exterior, Shakuni’s mind whirred. *He’s acting like a fool,* Shakuni thought, his face remaining neutral. *Love has blinded him. But soon enough, he will realize that one woman isn’t enough to secure his place. A stronger alliance is necessary, and it won’t come from Dwarka alone.*

As Duryodhan entered the chamber, the storm of emotions that had swirled within him seemed to quiet. His eyes softened the moment they landed on Anya, lying peacefully on the bed, her chest rising and falling gently with each breath. The sight of her made him pause. She looked serene, her blonde hair spread over the pillow like a golden halo, and the soft light of the room made her appear almost ethereal.

Duryodhan quietly moved closer to the bed, his frustration ebbing away. He crouched beside her, his gaze lingering on the faint trace of sindoor in the parting of her hair. Seeing the vibrant red marking on her golden locks, a surge of pride and protectiveness filled him. *She’s mine*, he thought, his heart swelling with a possessive tenderness. No matter what his uncle said, no one else would ever take her place.

Gently, he pulled the blanket over her, making sure she was comfortable. His large hand moved to pat her hair softly, careful not to wake her. Anya stirred slightly, but didn’t wake, her lips curling into a small, content smile in her sleep.

Duryodhan’s heart melted at the sight. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips brushing against the sindoor with reverence. The red symbol was more than just tradition; it was a mark of their bond, of their love, and he felt immense pride seeing it on her.

"Sleep well, my queen," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You’re all I need."

Straightening up, Duryodhan stood by the bed for a few moments, watching her. His earlier anger and irritation with Shakuni had vanished entirely. He knew there were political games to be played, but as far as Anya was concerned, she was untouchable. She had come into his life not because of strategy, but because they belonged together.

No alliance, no kingdom, and no amount of power was worth risking what he had with her. With a final, soft caress of her hair, Duryodhan turned and settled into the room, his mind now at ease knowing that Anya was right beside him.