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Bhanumati stormed down the palace corridors, her sandals clacking sharply against the stone floors. "How dare he!" she muttered angrily, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. Her chest heaved with indignation. The Princess of Kalinga, dismissed like some common servant in front of his council! The embarrassment burned her cheeks. She couldn't believe Duryodhan had the audacity to tell her to leave.

As she made her way toward the palace exit, her thoughts still clouded with anger, she bumped into someone.

"Princess Bhanumati," came the smooth, velvety voice of Shakuni, as he steadied her by the arm. His sharp eyes quickly assessed her flushed face and angry eyes. "What brings such a storm upon your face?"

She pulled her arm away, glaring at him. "Your nephew," she spat, her voice filled with venom. "He humiliated me in front of his entire court. Told me to leave Hastinapur as if I were some unwelcome beggar."

Shakuni's brows raised in mild surprise, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Duryodhan, you say? That's quite uncharacteristic of him." He feigned concern. "What could have provoked such behavior?"

Bhanumati crossed her arms, her frustration clear. "I came with an offer of alliance, a proposal for marriage. But he rejected me-harshly." She paused, her voice softening with the weight of her wounded pride. "I never expected him to speak to me that way."

Shakuni nodded thoughtfully, though inwardly, his mind was already turning. Duryodhan, you fool, he thought. You're so blinded by love for that girl that you can't see the bigger picture.

He tried to soothe her. "My dear princess, perhaps Duryodhan was simply... preoccupied. He is not always known for his patience when it comes to matters of the heart." His words were honeyed, but Bhanumati was not in the mood for coaxing.

She turned away from him with a huff. "No amount of preoccupation excuses his rudeness. Let your nephew know that I will not forget this insult."

Without another word, she swept down the hallway, her anger still smoldering as she left Shakuni behind.

Shakuni watched her go, his smile fading into a more calculating expression. "Drowning in love," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "That boy will ruin us all."

---

The Throne Room:

Inside the grand hall of the palace, Duryodhan stood before Pitamah Bhishma and Vidur, who were both staring at him with displeased expressions.

"You cannot simply dismiss guests in that manner, Duryodhan," Pitamah Bhishma said sternly, his voice filled with a sense of authority. "The princess of Kalinga is not someone to be spoken to so harshly, especially not in front of others."

Vidur chimed in, his tone more measured but equally critical. "Kalinga is an important ally, nephew. Your actions could strain the relationship between our kingdoms."

Duryodhan stood tall, his hands folded behind his back, but the tension in his jaw was clear. "Pitamah, Uncle Vidur," he began, his voice calm but resolute, "I had my reasons. Princess Bhanumati was meddling in matters that were not her concern. She came here to push for a marriage alliance, but I have no interest in taking another wife."

Bhishma's expression softened, though his disapproval remained. "I understand your reluctance, Duryodhan. But there are ways to handle such situations with diplomacy and respect. You cannot let your personal feelings jeopardize the kingdom's relations."

Duryodhan remained silent for a moment, then nodded. "I understand, Pitamah. But I will not allow anyone to dictate my choices."

With that, he bowed respectfully and left the throne room, his mind heavy with the weight of the day's events.

---

Evening with His Parents:

Later that evening, Duryodhan found himself summoned to his parents' chambers. He stood before them, his shoulders tense as his mother, Gandhari, spoke in her gentle voice.

"Duryodhan," she began softly, "we have heard what happened with Princess Bhanumati. Why did you act so harshly, my son?"

Duryodhan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Mother, Father, Bhanumati came here with the intention of marrying me. She sought to bind me to an alliance I do not want. I have no desire for another wife, and she was intruding on matters that do not concern her."

Gandhari's expression was full of understanding, though there was a hint of concern. "You could have told us that, Duryodhan. There was no need to speak so rudely to her."

Dhritarashtra, his voice grave, added, "Now, Kalinga will hold grudges against Hastinapur, my son. You must think of the kingdom, not just yourself."

Duryodhan's face hardened. "I do not care, Pitashree. If Kalinga wishes to be an enemy of Hastinapur, then so be it. I will not hesitate to defend this kingdom."

With that, he bowed once more and left the room, the weight of his frustrations pulling him down as he made his way to his chambers.

---

Elsewhere in the palace, Anya sat with her brothers-in-law, her heart heavy with guilt as they spoke in low tones.

"Brother Duryodhan's mood hasn't been great today," one of them remarked with a frown. "He was scolded by Pitamah Bhishma and Uncle Vidur for telling Princess Bhanumati to leave."

Anya bit her lip, her brow furrowing in worry. So it's true, she thought. She knew Duryodhan had been frustrated earlier, but she hadn't realized how much trouble it had caused. "I didn't know it would come to this," she murmured softly. Maybe if I hadn't been here...

---

That night, Anya sat on the bed in their chambers, her mind racing with thoughts of Duryodhan. The guilt weighed on her, and she couldn't help but feel that she had, in some way, been a part of his troubles today. She was lost in her thoughts when the door creaked open.

Duryodhan entered, his usually strong posture slumped with exhaustion. He offered her a weak smile, the crown in his hands slipping from his fingers as he tossed it aside. Without a word, he approached the bed and lay down, his head resting on her lap as if seeking solace in her presence.

Anya's heart softened at the sight. He looked so worn out, his usual fiery spirit dulled by the weight of the day. "Tough day?" she asked softly, running her fingers through his hair in a soothing gesture.

He closed his eyes, letting out a low, tired groan. "You have no idea..."

Anya chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "I heard you got scolded," she teased lightly, trying to lift his spirits. "You must've been quite the terror to earn a lecture from Pitamah."

Duryodhan cracked a small smile, though his eyes remained closed. "It's not the first time," he muttered.

Anya grinned, running her fingers through his hair again. "You're too scary for your own good, you know that?" she teased, her tone light and playful.

Duryodhan huffed in amusement. "Scary? Me?"

"Yes, you!" Anya poked his forehead. "You're always so serious and grumpy. But you know..." She leaned down closer, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, "I think you're just a big softie deep down."

He cracked one eye open, gazing up at her with a mix of amusement and tiredness. "Is that so?"

"Mhm," Anya hummed, smiling down at him. "Especially when you're lying here like this." She traced her fingers along his jaw, her touch gentle and soothing. "You need to relax more, Duryodhan."

He closed his eyes again, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Maybe. But only if you stay with me."

Anya giggled, leaning down to kiss him softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

For the first time that day, Duryodhan's tense body relaxed under her touch. Anya smiled, feeling him ease into her presence as she continued to run her fingers through his hair, her soft touches bringing them both a sense of peace in the quiet night.