In the royal palace, where the corridors echoed with the whispers of ancient kings and queens, a new tale of mischief was unfolding. 

Maharaj Devendra, the ruler known for his wisdom and valor, was revealing a less known side of his character.The sun had set, and the palace was bathed in the gentle glow of moonlight. 

It was the perfect time for a little adventure.

Devendra peeked into Devashree's room, where his young daughter was pretending to read, but her eyes sparkled with the anticipation of mischief. 

"Putri," he whispered with a grin, "are you ready for our little secret mission?"

Devashree's eyes lit up, and she quickly placed her book down, nodding enthusiastically. "Yes, Pitashree! Are we going to the kitchens tonight? I've been dreaming of the kheer all day!"

Devendra extended his hand with a conspiratorial nod, which Devashree grabbed with delight. "Let's go, my little partner in crime. The kingdom's best kheer awaits us, and I hear it's been seasoned with the finest of cardamom and saffron tonight."

Hand in hand, they tiptoed down the grand staircases, their steps muffled by the plush carpets. As they neared the kitchen, the aromatic fusion of spices and sweet milk wafted through the air, guiding them like an invisible thread.

Devendra held a finger to his lips, signaling silence, as they reached the kitchen door. Devashree covered her mouth to stifle her giggles. With a gentle push, Devendra opened the door just enough for them to slip through.

The kitchen was a realm of culinary wonders – pots simmered on large stoves, and the counters were lined with an array of sweets. 

But their treasure, the large pot of kheer, sat on a low simmer at the far end of the room. The Maharaj looked down at Devashree, his eyes twinkling. "Now, we must be as silent as the night air, Putri."

Devashree nodded, her tiny feet padding silently across the stone floor. As they approached the pot, Devendra glanced around to ensure no cooks were nearby. He then carefully ladled the creamy kheer into two small bowls he had grabbed from a shelf.

"Quick, under here," he whispered, as they ducked behind a large counter, shielding themselves from any accidental encounters. Sitting on the cool floor, Devendra handed a bowl to Devashree, their eyes gleaming with the thrill of their stealthy success.

Devashree took a spoonful, her face lighting up with pleasure. "This is the best kheer ever, Pitashree! It tastes even better because we stole it together."

Devendra laughed softly, enjoying the dessert but savoring even more the joy of this simple, shared moment with his daughter. "Yes, it is very sweet, do you know why? Because of you, my little darling."

They finished their bowls, giggling and whispering about their night-time adventure. 

 "We must do this more often, Pitashree," Devashree said, her voice low but filled with excitement.

As Maharaj Devendra and little Devashree indulged in their late-night escapade, their laughter echoing softly in the kitchen, they were unaware of the watchful eyes observing their mischief.

 Maharani Madhulika had been quietly making her rounds through the palace when she stumbled upon the scene.

 Here were her husband and daughter, huddled together in the dimly lit kitchen, feasting on stolen kheer like two mischievous children. But as she took in the sight of them, her stern expression softened, and a fond smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Arya! Devashree!" she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of reprimand and amusement. "What on earth are you two doing here at this hour?"

The Maharaj and his daughter froze, their guilty expressions evident even in the dim light.

 Devendra cleared his throat nervously, while Devashree's eyes widened in surprise.

Caught red-handed, they exchanged sheepish glances, knowing they had been caught in the act. But before they could utter a word of explanation,  Madhulika continued, her tone gentle but firm.

"Stealing sweets from the kitchen, hmm? That's hardly becoming of a Maharaj and his princess, is it?" she chided lightly, her eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter.

Devendra and Devashree hung their heads, feeling a pang of guilt for their impulsive adventure. But as they glanced up at the her, they were met with a warm and indulgent gaze, her smile softening the edges of her scolding.

"Come now, let us return to our chambers,"  Madhulika said, her voice betraying none of the mirth that danced in her eyes. "But remember, no more sneaking into the kitchen for late-night treats."

With a gentle hand on Devashree's shoulder and a reassuring smile for Devendra, she led them back to their rooms, her heart brimming with love for her playful family.

As they walked, she couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at the memory of their faces, caught in the act of mischief. Despite their misbehavior, she couldn't deny the warmth that blossomed within her at the sight of her husband and daughter bonding over stolen sweets.

In that moment, she realized that sometimes, breaking the rules was just another way of creating cherished memories with those you loved most.

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Rajpitah Adhiraj sat on the couch in his room. He was lost in the memories of his old days. When he had ascended the throne, the kingdom was nothing more than a small village. He had expanded his reign, some through gore and blood, others through alliances and pacts.

He slowly traced the edge of his mighty sword. How many people had it cut through? How much blood had it spilled? What was the use when he couldn't even save his Maharani? His weary eyes misted and he let his thoughts drift off to the happy times they had shared.

He was brought out of his musings by the quiet pattle of little feet outside his doors.

Devashree.

He was sure. He could never mistake the soft jiggling of her payals and bangles. He stood up, his old knees cracking in protest, and went to open the door. There was no one there. He checked the hallway on both sides and again found it empty. He squinted at the curtain beside the door and quietly chuckled at the little toes poking out from below. He tiptoed silently to the curtain and quickly pulled it aside.

"Caught you, my little darling!!" his eyes twinkling merrily at her scrunched face.

Little Devashree was dressed in a simple white lehenga fit for the nightly attire.

" Pitamah, how do you always find me so quickly?" she pouted at him.

"Your Pitamaha has sharp eyes putri" he laughed at her adorable self.

" Why are you up at this hour?" he asked, even though he knew she couldn't sleep without hearing stories from him.

" It's been three whole days, Pitamah, 3 whole days I went without hearing any stories from you. Now I am at the end of my patience." she protested, her small hands on her hips.

The old grandfather laughed at her attempt to persuade him. But she need not go to such lengths. He could never deny her anything after all.

"Okay, come on in" He gestured with his hands to her and let her in.

The grandfather and his little darling settled on the bed. He wound his arms around her so that she rested her head on his chest. He had often told her about brave warriors of old. About other kingdoms, princes, and wars. But today he thought about something different.

"Tonight, I will tell you a story of bravery and sacrifice," he began, his voice low and soothing.

"The sun was shining brightly on the day of the little prince's 2nd birthday. The palace was adorned with flowers and decorations, and his mother, the queen, had dressed him in the most lavish silk garments. Together, they went to the temple to offer prayers and seek blessings from the gods.

Maa ke anchal mein liye hue, Shiv ji ki kripa aur Durga mata ke ashirwad se bache ka janamdin mana rahe the. [Holding the child in his mother's arms, he was celebrating his child's birthday with the grace of Lord Shiva and the blessings of Goddess Durga.]

After taking the blessings, they started their return journey back to the palace. They climbed the chariot to hurry back to the palace.

Amidst the joy and celebrations, the queen's heart filled with fear as she saw the men dressed in black approaching their chariot. Only five soldiers were with them, and the queen knew they were outnumbered.

Without wasting a minute, the queen picked up her son and held him close to her chest, praying to the gods for their protection. The soldiers engaged in a fierce battle with the black-clad men, but they were outnumbered and overpowered.

Maa ka mann bhay se bhar gaya aur ve bhaagne lagi, par unke peeche 30 se bhi zyada aadmi the, sirf paanch sipahiyon ke saath. Parntu, ve bacche ko aage rakhte hue, apne bal par bhagti rahi. ( the mother was filled with fear and she started running, but there were more than 30 men in front of her, accompanied by only five soldiers, she held the child to her chest, running with all her might.

But despite her efforts, the queen and her son were soon surrounded and cornered by the attackers. She fought with all her might, but in the end, she and her son were killed.

The grandfather paused and looked at his granddaughter with tears in his eyes. " This was the story of your grandmother, my darling. Your grandmother had fought bravely with what little she knew, but in the end, had to succumb to death."

Little Devashree had tears running down her cheeks. " Pitamah.."

" Shh... putri, it was a long time ago. Had your grandmother been skilled in fighting, it would not have happened. They both might not have died. But women were not taught the ways of warriors. Most of the empires in Aryavarta still don't do that. Yes, they are made into fine queens but not warriors. Some princesses are allowed to choose the warfare they want to learn.

But my little darling, you have to learn it all. We will not always be there with you."

Your Pitashree, your Ranimaa, your bhratashree, we will always try to protect you from any harm but you have to learn how to protect yourself and those around you if the time demands. That is why you will be attending the gurukul with Pratap to attend your Shiksha under the sanidhya of the Great Acharya Venkata."

He told her of the plans for her education, her future training in the gurukul under a revered Acharya. Devashree listened, wiping her tears, her young face set with determination.

Her Pitamahi had been brutally killed along with her little kakashree. Her heart was filled with pain for her Pitamah and Pitashree. She hugged him tightly and assured him, "Don't worry Pitamah, I understand what you are telling me and I promise you this. I will practice day and night to become the best warrior princess ever. I will never let such fate befall me!!"

Adhiraj smiled at her determined face and allowed her to snuggle up to him as he calmed her down into sleep.
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The time had come.

Pratap and Devashree were seated on their mother's lap and were being fed the 56 bhog thali. 

"Ranimaa, bas ab aur nahi!! (not anymore)" Pratap groaned, pushing the plate slightly away as his little stomach neared its limits.

"Arey, aapki Ranimaa aapko itne Prem se khila Rahi hai, aapko toh aur ek thali khani chahiye. (Hey, your Ranima is feeding you with so much love, you should eat one more plate.)" Maharaj Devendra said, smiling at his children.

They grew so fast. His children were going off to Gurukul. He captured this moment and seared it in his heart.

" My little darlings, already so big, it will be a long time before I see you again. So let me feed you today to my heart's content." Maharani Madhulika hugged her children, tears moistening in her eyes. 

She had done this before, had sent her son to Gurukul before. But it was always harder to say goodbye. She would no longer be able to feed kheer to her little Devashree. No longer be able to play with her dear Pratap.

"Don't cry, Ranimaa. We will try to finish it as soon as possible," assured her daughter, her eyes expressing concern for her mother.Beside her, Pratap nodded, eager to ease his mother's sorrow.

"Don't worry about me, my angel, from now on, you too must only focus on acquiring all the knowledge you can and applying it to become the best of yoddhas ( warriors). Now come on, open your mouth, it's time for your favorite kheer."

Their final moments were interrupted by the entrance of Rajpitah Adhiraj, his presence commanding yet comforting.

"Chalo mere baccho, your guru is here. We do not want to waste his time now, do we?"

Both the children stood up and went to their Pitamah. The whole family then went to the throne room, where the children were introduced to Aacharya Venkat. He was dressed in a narangi dhoti and uttariya. He was of average height with a well-built stature. He had shoulder-length hair which was tied up in a knot.

"Pranipat Acharya! I am Devashree and this is my brother Pratap. We request that you to accept us as your students." Devashree and Pratap stood in front of Acharya Venkat with their hands joint and head bowed in respect."

" Only Devashree and not Rajkumari Devashree?" Acharya Venkat raised his left eyebrow and questioned the girl in front of him. Usually, the princes and princesses he had encountered took immense pride in announcing their status.

"No Acharya, only Devashree. The moment I decided to gain Shiksha, I stopped being a Rajkumari. If you accept us, then we shall be nothing more than your students till we have completed our shiksha." Devashree answered politely.

"Excellent! Then I Acharya Venkat, hereby accept you Devashree and Pratap, as my students. " He said, impressed with the maturity shown by the princess.

" Ashirwad dijiye Gurudev. ( please bless us Gurudev)" They both took blessings from him.

Acharya Venkat looked at Maharaj Devendra and nodded. Maharaj Devendra understood that it was time for them to take their leave.

The children then took blessings from the elders.
Pratap followed his elder sister's lead.

" My little happiness, go out there and make your Pitamah proud, okay? "

" Don't worry about that Pitamah, we will practice very hard" little Pratap chimed and assured his grandfather.

They moved to their father and touched his feet. Maharaj Devendra bent down and embraced them. He gave them his heartfelt blessings and moved to their mother.

Tears filled in their eyes. But they ignored it and touched their mother's feet.

" Kalyan ho putri. Kalyan ho putra.Jab bhi apni Ranimaa ki yaad aaye, Mata Parvati ki aradhna karna. Woh tumhare saari pida har lengi. Aur ek doosre ka khayal rakhna. (Bless you daughter. Bless you son. Whenever you miss your mother, worship Goddess Parvati.In my absence, she will take your pain away. And take care of each other.") "

Maharani Madhulika bent down and kissed their brows, silently praying for their safety and happiness.

They saw their bhratashree next and both of them ran towards him, engulfing him in a massive hug." We will miss you so much bhratashree." Both of them said together, burying their face into him.

"Arey, this is so not done. You both gave smiles to everyone. Where is mine huh? Will I only get tears from you ?" He teased them with a wet laugh and tickled them till were smiling and laughing.

Prince Dharmendra encouraged them and led them to their gurudev.

Maharaj Devendra, handing both his children to Acharya Venkat, joint his hands and said,

" Hey Acharya, main apne hriday ke tukdon ko aap ke sanidhya main chod rahah hu. Kripaya inki raksha kare aur inhe apni Vidya dekhar kirtat kare"

"Aap chinta na kare Maharaj, ye mere saath purnatah suraksheet rahenge." ( Don't worry my king, I assure you they will remain safe with me"

He assured the father and the three along with little wolf cub, Rudra whom Devashree had rescued left the palace on a long journey to the forest of Meghnath, just outside their empire, near the forest of Kirmada.

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In the warm, bustling kitchen of a small, rustic home nestled in the heart of Vrindavan, the air was thick with the aroma of spices and sweet milk.

The sun, peering through the small window, cast a golden hue over everything it touched, adding a serene glow to an otherwise ordinary morning. Amidst this picturesque setting, an adventurous eight-year-old Krishna, with eyes sparkling with mischief and curiosity, embarked on a culinary quest far beyond his years.

The kitchen, Yashoda's realm, was a treasury of flavors and traditions, with earthen pots and wooden spoons telling tales of countless meals prepared with love.

Krishna, with his heart set on making kheer, he has to practice for his Priye, had covertly gathered all the necessary ingredients: rice, milk, sugar, and a sprinkle of cardamom for that heavenly scent.

Standing on the tips of his toes, he reached for a large pot, his small hands barely gripping the edges, and set it on the stove with a determined thud.

As he poured the milk into the pot, his little face concentrated in focus, he didn't hear the soft footsteps of his mother, Yashoda, entering the kitchen.

It was only when she cleared her throat, a gentle sound that nevertheless made Krishna jump, that he realized he was no longer alone in his culinary adventure.

"Kanha," Yashoda's voice was a blend of amusement and surprise, "what are you doing with all this milk in the pot?" Her eyes danced with laughter as she took in the sight before her: her young son, surrounded by spilled milk and rice grains, had a look of innocent determination on his face.

Krishna turned, his cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and pride. "I'm making kheer, Maiya," he declared, his voice steady despite the butterflies in his stomach. "I wanted to make kheer Maiya, for my Priye when she will come. I've seen you make it many times, and I thought...I thought I could do it too."

Yashoda's heart melted at the sight of her son, his intentions so pure and filled with love. She knelt beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and kissed the top of his head. "Kanha, my dear, your heart is as sweet as the kheer you wish to make. But cooking is not just about following what you see; it's about understanding the love that goes into it. Let's make it together, shall we?" she suggested, her voice soft and encouraging.

Together, they started over. Yashoda showed Krishna how to measure the rice and milk properly, how to keep the flame just right, and how to stir the kheer to prevent it from sticking to the bottom of the pot. Krishna listened intently, his eyes absorbing every detail, his hands mimicking his mother's movements with surprising adeptness.

As the kheer simmered and thickened, filling the kitchen with its sweet aroma, Krishna and Yashoda shared stories and laughter, the bond between them strengthening over the shared task. When the kheer was finally done, they both tasted it, and Krishna's face lit up with joy at the delicious sweetness on his tongue.

"This is the best kheer ever, Maiya," Krishna exclaimed, his eyes shining with happiness and a hint of pride.

Yashoda smiled, her heart full. " Now that I have taught you, will you finally tell me about your Priye? We have asked you so many times but you always avoid it. "

Her Kanha smiled playfully, pulling at his maiya's heart, " Maiya, my Priye is someone who has always been in my heart, better yet she is my heart itself" he said touching is heart, his Shrivatsa mark.

" Don't think much about it Maiya, you will get to meet her very soon," saying this he ran away from her, searching for his dau.

Yashoda maiya looked at the receding back of her Kanha and smiled at her lalla's antics. It has always been like this. Her lalla claimed that all the Gokul vasi and his family resided in his heart but there was one such person who was his heart itself.

" Well, whatever, if you say so kanha then I am sure, your priye must be as lovable as you are." Saying this to herself, Yashoda chuckled to herself, and went about churning yet another pot of milk for her beloved lalla.

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Well, what do you guys think about this chapter?

NOTE: There is currently no schedule for updates as my exams have started. I will try to update whenever possible.

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