The grand hall buzzed with conversations, a tapestry of voices woven with intrigue, admiration, and curiosity. Kings and queens exchanged pleasantries, their words laced with subtle diplomacy. Sages, their eyes distant, seemed lost in contemplation, their whispers carrying the weight of ancient wisdom.

Dilip was busy playing with Mitravinda, his niece, raising her up and down, as she giggled. The child, with her chubby cheeks and mischievous eyes, was the embodiment of pure joy. Jayasen, watching his brother and daughter, chuckled, his eyes filled with a warmth. Rajadhidevi, a serene figure, observed the trio with a mother's love, her heart filled with contentment.

A warm glow enveloped Dilip as he shared laughter with his niece, Mitravinda. The child's infectious joy seemed to dispel the weight of his royal responsibilities.

Suddenly, Vinda and Anuvinda, their faces plastered with forced smiles, approached them. Dilip, however, saw through their facade. He knew the brothers well, their ambition as sharp as their daggers.

"Pranaam chachashree." They greeted.

Dilip returned their greetings with a polite nod, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that belied his calm exterior. He gently passed Mitravinda into Jayasen's arms. Jayasen took the child with a smile, but his gaze flickered between Dilip and his sons.

Dilip offered a warm smile to Vinda and Anuvinda, a silent dismissal. With a subtle nod to Jayasen, indicating his intention, he turned to greet the other guests. Yet, as Dilip moved through the crowd, he felt a persistent shadow. He glanced over his shoulder to find Vinda and Anuvinda trailing him, their faces a mask of feigned interest.

"Kya aap humse rusht hai chachashree ? Aap anumaan nahi laga sakte ki itne varsho baad aapko dekh ke hume kitni prasannata huyi hai." Vinda began, his voice laced with feigned warmth.

Anuvinda followed suit, his words echoing his brother's, "Hum aapke hi baare mei sochte rehte the. Aapke charan sparsh karne ko bahut man karta tha."

A wry smile touched Dilip's lips. Their actions were as transparent as crystal. "Toh karo." he replied, his tone laced with amusement.

The twins exchanged a nervous glance, their carefully constructed facade beginning to crack, their exaggerated humility crumbling down.

"Chachashree... Aise sabke samaksh kaise kar sakte hai.... Yuvraj hai hum Avanti ke..." Vinda said, his eyes darting around to gauge the reactions of the onlookers.

"Priye bhatijo," Dilip stepped towards them, keeping his hands over their shoulders, "Yeh prem aur vinamrata ka natak mere samaksh punah nahi chal sakta. Jo kehna hai, spasht kaho."

Anuvinda said, "Kehna kya hai Chachashree ? Bahut si baate thi, kintu hum abhi ashcharya mei hai. Kabhi socha nahi tha ki aap ek rajya sthaapit karenge, humare virudh khade honge."

"Virudh kaha ?" Dilip raised a brow, a smile playing on his lips, "Tum dono Yuvraj ho, aur mai Maharaj. Jis prakar Rajkumar se dwand Rajkumar hi kar sakta hai, waise hi Raja keval Raja ke virudh ho sakta hai."

Vinda and Anuvinda felt a surge of anger and humiliation. Jealousy gnawed at their hearts. They had come to assert their dominance, to remind Dilip of their rightful place, but now they felt exposed, vulnerable. Their faces flushed with a mixture of rage and embarrassment.

Vinda, trying to maintain his calm, said in a low voice, "Koi baat nahi chachashree. Hum samajh sakte hai ki kadachit aapke hridaye mei humare liye prem kuch kam ho gaya hoga."

"Prem toh kam nahi huya, tum dono aaj bhi mujhe priya ho. Kintu ha.... Koi aisa awashya aya hai jeevan mei jo mujhe tum dono se bhi ati-priya hai." Dilip said.

With a reassuring pat on their backs, he turned and walked away. Vinda and Anuvinda watched Dilip retreat into the crowd, their eyes burning with a mixture of anger, frustration, and helplessness. Their carefully orchestrated plan had backfired spectacularly.

Dilip moved gracefully through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with kings, and bowing before the Brahmanas and sages with reverence. When the initial wave of greetings subsided, Dilip turned his steps towards the ornate throne, a symbol of his authority.

Next to it, a matching throne held his brother, Jayasen, his regal bearing complemented by the serene beauty of Rajadhidevi. On her lap, sat the enchanting Mitravinda, her laughter a melodious counterpoint to the grandeur of the occasion.

A hush fell over the grand hall as the guests settled into their opulent seats. The air was thick with anticipation, a collective breath held in expectation. Every eye scanned the entrance, their gaze filled with a mix of curiosity and reverence.

A hush fell over the grand hall as the announcement echoed through the gilded chambers, "YASHASHVINI MAHARANI AARVI, TEJASVINI RAJKUMARI SAHIT PADHAAR RAHI HAI !"

Every eye in the hall got fixed towards the grand entrance, a sea of faces expectant and awestruck. The moment had arrived. Queen Aarvi made her grand entrance. Clad in a resplendent garments, its fabric shimmering with gold and silver threads, she was a vision of regal elegance.

Aarvi held her child with a mother's protectiveness, her arms forming a shield around the infant. The baby, swaddled securely, was hidden from view, her face turned inward. Only the tiny feet, peeping out from the yellow cloth, were visible, the soles of which were of an unnatural red hue.

Behind the queen, a retinue of attendants followed, their movements synchronized in a graceful dance. Each carried offerings - baskets of flowers, platters of fruits, and lamps filled with sacred oil.

A collective yearning swept through the assembly as eyes strained to catch a glimpse of the divine infant. Sages, their minds steeped in ancient wisdom, joined their hands in a gesture of prayer and anticipation. Kings, their regal composure momentarily forgotten, rose to their feet, their forms stretching to their limits as they tiptoed in a desperate attempt to see beyond the protective cocoon of Aarvi's arms.

Dilip's heart swelled with pride as his gaze fell upon Aarvi and their child. His wife, adorned in regal splendor, carried an aura of divine grace. And there, cradled in her arms, was the miracle of existence, the child destined for greatness.

Aarvi's steps were deliberate as she approached the ornate throne where Jayasen and Rajadhidevi were seated. Upon seeing them, her eyes lit up with a warmth that illuminated her face. A gentle smile played on her lips as she bowed her head in a respectful greeting. Jayasen and Rajadhidevi returned the gesture, with outstretched hands, they offered a silent benediction.

Dilip stepped forward, his arms outstretched. Aarvi, with a trusting smile, placed the infant in his arms. The baby, wide-eyed and curious, looked up at her father, her tiny fingers reaching out to touch his face. Dilip cradled her gently, his heart filled with a profound love.

Dilip offered the child to Jayasen, wishing for his elder brother to be honoured first. Jayasen, his eyes glistening with emotion, took the baby in his arms, his hands trembling slightly with the weight of the moment.

He held the infant close, his heart pounding with a mix of awe and trepidation. The prophecy, once a distant echo, had materialized in his arms. This tiny being, with her innocent gaze, was Akhand Maharani Aryabharti, the supreme ruler.

Jayasen knew that he was not just holding a child; he was cradling the fate of the world. The weight of the moment was almost unbearable. He looked down at the child, her tiny fingers clutching at his robes. The feeling was akin to the day he had first held Mitravinda, his daughter.

Rajadhidevi's heart swelled with a maternal love that transcended blood relations. Her hand reached out to gently pinch the baby's soft cheeks. A playful boop on the nose followed, causing the child to scrunch her face in surprise before letting out a tiny sneeze.

The sudden, unexpected action broke the solemn atmosphere, replacing it with a wave of laughter. Dilip, Jayasen, and even Aarvi joined in the mirth, their hearts filled with a warmth that was as comforting as the sun on a winter morning.

Mitravinda, with the innocence of childhood, watched the interaction between her parents and the infant with wide, curious eyes. Her tiny hands reached out, her fingers tentatively touching the baby's soft palm. A giggle escaped her lips, as the baby coiled her hand around her finger.

Dilip, his face radiating with pride and joy, turned to face the assembled dignitaries. His voice, carried a sense of authority and warmth, "Aapki pratiksha ka fal yaha hai. Ab aap sab bhi, ek ek kar, Rajkumari ke darshan kare."

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A/N

How sweet 😍✨