The sun hung high in the azure sky, casting a warm glow over Ujjain’s bustling city square, where the royal procession had come to a sudden halt. The air was thick with excitement, as throngs of citizens, with faces gleaming in anticipation, gathered around the grand carriage. The princess had stepped out of the palace for the first time, this will be their chance to gaze upon her.

Guards, in polished armor, formed a protective perimeter, their expressions stern, yet softened by the joyous atmosphere. Children perched on their fathers' shoulders strained to see, while women waved colorful scarves, creating a vibrant tapestry of movement and color. The air buzzed with whispers of admiration and pride, as citizens shouted the princess’s name, “Krishneshwari ! Krishneshwari !”

Aarvi felt her heart race, concern etched deeply on her brow. She glanced out, anxiety tightening her chest as she saw the throngs, a mix of joyous faces and wild enthusiasm, pressing dangerously close. She held her daughter close, shielding her from the overwhelming sight. Yet, the princess's curious eyes widened, captivated by the sea of joyful faces. The guards, though vigilant, struggled to maintain order against the rising tide of adoration.

King Dilip's brow furrowed with concern as he surveyed the crowd, a tide of joyous faces clamoring for a glimpse of the beloved Princess Krishneshwari. His heart swelled with pride for his beloved daughter, yet anxiety gnawed at him—would the crowd's affection turn to impatience ? His regal demeanor remained intact, but his eyes reflected a father’s worry for the safety of his wife and daughter.

In front of him, Hemant stood tall, his voice booming over the murmurs of the crowd, "Ujjain-vaasiyo, kripiya Rajparivaar ko maarg dijiye !" His words echoed, yet the crowd remained steadfast, caught up in the fervor of admiration.

Dilip, sensing the palpable energy, glanced towards Vedamurti, who was seated regally on a chariot ahead, "Kulguru ? Hum kya kare ?" He asked.

Vedamurti looked at the eager faces of the citizens, and then looked back at Dilip, his voice steady but urgent, "Haiheya-samrat, Ujjayini ko apne rath par le aayiye. Apni Rajkumari ko dekh, yeh shaant ho jaayenge."

With a nod, Dilip made a decisive move. He descended from his chariot, his presence igniting an electric cheer among the gathered crowd. Guards quickly encircled him, forming a protective barrier while the excitement intensified, shouts of joy rising like an anthem.

As Dilip approached the grand carriage, and opened the door, he caught sight of Aarvi, her brow furrowed with worry as she held Krishneshwari tightly against her chest. The little princess’s wide eyes peeked out, sensing the fervor outside.

With a gentle smile, Dilip leaned close to his wife, offering her reassurance. "Praja ki iccha hai apni Rajkumari ko dekhne ki. Iccha purn ho jaaye, toh hume maarg awashya milega."

The queen hesitated for a fleeting moment before surrendering their daughter into his embrace. Dilip held Krishneshwari close to his heart, her golden diadem glinting in the sunlight, and the crowd erupted into a thunderous cheer, their beloved princess finally revealed to their adoring eyes.

As King Dilip walked back to his chariot, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. The cheers of the crowd roared, echoing through the square like a jubilant wave.

Eyes gleamed with excitement, and calls of "RAJKUMARI KI JAI HO !" reverberated among the citizens, their faces lit with admiration.

Dilip mounted his chariot with grace, his demeanor regal and confident. As Krishneshwari emerged into the light, her wide, innocent eyes scanned the sea of faces staring back at her. At first, her expression shifted to one of confusion and trepidation, overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of voices and attention.

At first, her expression shifted to one of confusion and trepidation, overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of voices and attention. She clung tighter to her father, her small fingers gripping his royal garb as if seeking refuge from the unfamiliarity of the moment. The vibrant colors of the crowd danced before her, and she instinctively buried her face against Dilip’s shoulder, seeking comfort in his familiar scent and strong embrace.

Dilip felt the tension in her small frame he whispered softly, "Bhayebhit na ho, putri. Yaha sab humare apne hai." He rubbed her back gently, the rhythmic motion calming her racing heart.

Her wide eyes darted among the crowd, uncertainty etched across her cherubic features. Sensing her distress, Dilip gently caressed her tiny face, "Dekho toh, sab tumhari ek jhalak dekhna chaahte hai."

He pointed toward the throng of people, encouraging her to look. As Krishneshwari’s gaze drifted back to the jubilant faces, the shouts grew louder, each cheer amplifying her unease. Her small frame trembled slightly, overwhelmed by the attention.

Turning back to her father, she whispered, her voice barely audible over the clamor, "Kyu ?"

With a warm smile, Dilip told, his voice gentle yet firm, "Kyuki tum humari Akhand Maharani ho."

Yet, the concept seemed too vast for her to grasp; she tilted her head, her brows furrowing in perplexity. Noticing her distress, Dilip gestured to Hemant to ride forward. The charioteer nodded, sensing the need for action. With practiced ease, he urged his steed ahead, parting the sea of eager citizens.

Satisfied murmurs filled the air as the citizens stepped aside, their admiration still palpable. The procession began to move again, slowly but surely. Krishneshwari remained in her father’s embrace, nestled against him, still bewildered.

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A/N

If only she knew, what she meant for them..... What hope means to the ones who had lost it...