It was so bizarre. 

Earlier, who had been the reason for her peaceful slumber now has become the reason for her sleepless nights. 

It had been two weeks of pure bliss for Devashree. 

Meeting and spending time with Krishna has been a daily affair now, which she looked forward to every evening. The innocent laughter and playful demeanor of Krishna always brought a smile to her face.

But she was not naive. 

She was not unaware of her blossoming feelings for a certain someone.

This feelings, so sudden and all-encompassing, has ignited a flame within her, casting light on corners of her heart she never knew existed. She understood where they were headed, but all her feelings were so confusing.

So in the quiet hours of midnight, under the amber hues of the lamp in her small hut, she decided to pen down a letter to her brother.

Priya Bhratashree,

Pranipat! I know I sent you a letter just yesterday, but I need your counsel right now.

This cannot wait! This is a very urgent, very grave, and very important matter. 

Before you start sending a battalion of soldiers after me, hear me out. Its not a matter of strategic importance but a very very delicate matter.

It is about my heart, Bharatashree. 

This beating flesh in my chest is being pulled, Bhrata. You understand what I'm saying, don't you? And no, I am not having a heart attack!

I know you exchanged several letters with the Princess of Pundra. 

No. Don't ask me how I know. 

Now, do you understand me? I thought you must have some experience with these things, which is why I am writing to you, not as a sister but as a friend and close confidant.

I told you about Krishna, didn't I?

I love spending time with him. In him, I have discovered a friend, a kindred spirit,a source of laughter in times of sorrow, and a pillar of strength in moments of weakness. His virtues shine forth with the brilliance of a thousand suns, illuminating the depths of my heart and awakening within me feelings I scarcely understand.

Do I need to say more? You must be laughing at me, Bhrata, I know you are! Now stop laughing and guide me.

How do I handle this delicate terrain without dishonoring our family or betraying the trust you have placed in me? It is in search of answers to these questions that I turn to you, Bhratashree, my mentor, my guiding light.

Your wisdom has always been my compass in times of uncertainty, and your counsel my sanctuary in moments of turmoil. I request,then, to lend me your guidance once more. How should I proceed in the face of this unexpected and overwhelming emotion? How do I honor the feelings that have taken hold of my heart without losing sight of the duties that define who I am?

Respond quickly and send it with the fastest eagle you have. 

And don't you dare blabber about this to anyone. Otherwise, I will tell Pitashree all about your love escapades.

With all the love in my heart,

Your Surabhi,

Kripalini Devashree

Devashree sealed it off and sent it with a pigeon, sighing softly.She would not be able to sleep until she got his answer. 

Her eyes wandered to the empty pots sitting in the corner, and she sighed again. 

Swiftly rising, she grabbed the pots, and made her way to Yamuna. She might as well get something useful done.

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As she wandered through the groves, she was drawn by a tune that seemed to call to the very essence of her being. 

She found herself on the periphery of a clearing bathed in silver light. 

There, in the heart of that luminescence, was Krishna.

His presence was magnetic, pulling at the souls of all who beheld him. Around him, in a circle that seemed to defy the boundaries of the earthly and the celestial, were the Gopis - each a murti of devotion, their faces alight with bliss, their movements so graceful and filled with their  love for Krishna.

The dance began with a gentle rhythm, the tinkling of ankle bells mingling with the soft murmur of the breeze. 

Krishna, with a flute pressed to his lips, played a melody so enchanting that it seemed to weave the very ocean of love. 

The Gopis, drawn into the dance, moved with a grace that was both of this world and beyond, their steps perfectly attuned to the melody, their sarees swirling around them in a kaleidoscope of colors.

As the dance unfolded, it became clear to Devashree that this was no ordinary spectacle. 

It was the Raas Leela that she had seen in her dreams, where he multiplied Himself, so each Gopi believed He danced only with her.

It was a dance of unconditional love, and surrender, where each step, each glance, and each gesture was an offering of the self at the altar of him.

The joy that radiated from Krishna and the Gopis was palpable, a radiant bliss that seemed to envelop the entire grove, touching the hearts of every creature, every leaf, and every whispering wind.

Devashree stood there, witnessing this divine play, and a profound sense of peace and belonging washed over her. In that moment, she understood that the love between Krishna and the Gopis was a mirror of the ultimate love.

A longing awakened within her, a desire as pure as the moonlight that bathed them - the desire to step into the circle and join them in their dance of eternal love. It was instinctive. She wanted to join them. She wanted to lose herself in the same dance.

Would Krishna look at her the same way as he did with the gopis? Would he also dance with her?It would be so much fun! 

She quietly giggled at her thoughts. As she lowered her eyes to the floor in shyness, her eyes fell on the water filled pots reminding her of her daily tasks. She was already late, she needed to practice before dawn to keep up with her Shastra Vidya as once her gurus woke up,she would get busy with learning all the kalas

A sigh escaped her lips.

As she turned away, the melody of Krishna's flute accompanying her steps, she felt a deep contentment settle within her.

Before dawn's first light, Devashree's sword practice began as the air around her charged with a powerful energy. 

She commenced with the basic stances, her feet planted firmly on the earth. With a deep breath, she raised her sword, its blade catching the soft glow of dawn, turning it into a ribbon of light. The initial movements were fluid, a series of elegant arcs and circles that traced the boundaries of her personal battleground. Each motion was deliberate, a dance of steel and soul choreographed to the silent music of dawn.

As her body warmed to the rhythm of the practice, her movements became more dynamic. She executed a series of cuts, each one slicing through the air with precision, the hiss of the blade a whisper against the morning stillness. Her footwork was agile, a series of steps that mirrored the unpredictable nature of combat, moving forward and back, side to side, in a dance that mimicked the ebb and flow of battle.The practice intensified as she engaged in a sequence of katas, imaginary duels against unseen foes. Her sword moved with speed and accuracy, cutting, thrusting, parrying in a display of martial prowess. The movements were both offensive and defensive.

With the conclusion of the sequence, she slowed her movements, allowing the adrenaline to ebb away, the sword tracing slower, more deliberate patterns in the air as she cooled down. Finally, with a deep sense of peace and fulfillment, she sheathed her sword, its ring a closing note to her morning practice.

In the afternoon, came the swift response of her brother. He did sent it with the fastest eagle! With a wildly beating heart, she carefully opened the letter.

My Priya Surabhi,

I just received your letter, and seeing how *URGENT* your letter was, I have summoned the ink and parchment right in the throne room, sitting on this rather uncomfortable chair, one would think with the riches we have, we would at least afford some cushions.See how much I care for you?

First and foremost, know this that I am proud of you. Not only because I and our family can see what a wonderful woman you have turned into with all your hardwork and thirst for knowledge, but also because it takes great courage to admit feelings of love. Yes, love is what these burgeoning feelings are.

Embrace it, anujaa.Don't try to fight it, because fighting with your feelings will eventually suffocate you. Believe me, I have tried and failed.The only thing I can say is don;t change yourself for anyone ,Surabhi. Just be yourself. True love is when we love and accept the person with their flaws,just like I love you even though you are annoying.

Remember that you are not just our princess but a woman of strength, wisdom, and grace.We trust you and know that you can handle your responsibilities as well as uphold our dignity.Don't doubt yourself now.

It's perfectly acceptable to trip over your own feet occasionally, so long as you rise with poise and a smile.Embrace these feelings, my sister, but do so with the wisdom and dignity that is your birthright. Let your heart and your intellect walk together, side by side, as you navigate this journey. Remember, the true essence of love is not possession but appreciation, not dependence but mutual growth.

And never forget, dear sister, that you are a gem in the royal diadem, shining bright with your own light. 

Any suitor, be he a god or a mortal, should consider himself blessed to bask in your radiance.

And don't you dare spread anything about my love life! Handle yours first!

Your annoyed, Bhratashree,

Yuvraj Dharmendra

As Devashree read and reread the letter, each word seemed to echo the tumultuous feelings that had been swirling within her, feelings that had found a home in the sacred groves of her heart.

 Her brother's insight peeled away the layers of confusion and uncertainty, guiding her towards a realization that was as breathtaking as the first bloom of spring.

It was indeed love.

Realization washed over her like a wave. The strange feelings that had taken root in her heart, the longing to be near Krishna, to be a part of the melody that flowed from his flute, to be a part of him, it was love.

She giggled in delight.

With a heart filled with newfound understanding and eyes brimming with tears of gratitude, she looked out seeing the nature anew through the lens of her love for Krishna. 

The trees, the river, the very air seemed to celebrate this awakening, as if all of creation rejoiced in the recognition of a soul's love for another.

As she folded her brother's letter and placed it close to her heart.

Determined to bridge the distance between them, Devashree approached Krishna the same balmy evening, her heart thumping an erratic  beat .

Krishna, with his usual serenity and a mischievous twinkle in his eye, was waiting for her near the shore.

"Krishna," Devashree started, her voice slightly trembling with nerves and excitement,she did not know how to start today.

"Would you... could you teach me to play the flute?" she finally managed to utter, her voice trembling slightly as she voiced her request to Krishna.

Krishna's eyes sparkled with amusement at her earnest request. "Shree," he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching in a barely contained smile, "Learning the flute is not just about mastering the notes; it's about understanding the language of the heart, the language of love. Are you ready for it?"

Encouraged by his playful challenge, Devashree nodded, her determination lighting up her features. "Yes, I am. How do we begin?"

"First, we must acquaint you with your partner," he said,

Krishna held out the flute to Devashree, the moonlight casting a gentle glow upon its polished surface. As she reached out to take it, their fingers brushed against each other, sending a subtle jolt of electricity through her.

"Here is your partner," Krishna said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that made her heart flutter. "Now, let me show you how to hold it."

Moving closer to her, Krishna positioned himself behind Devashree, his presence enveloping her in a comforting embrace. Gently, he guided her hands to the flute, his touch sending shivers of excitement down her spine. With infinite patience, he adjusted her grip, his fingers lingering against hers in a lingering caress.

"Like this," he murmured, his breath tickling her ear, "Feel the flute against your skin, as if it were an extension of your own being."

"Like this?" Devashree asked, holding the flute in a way that resembled a warrior wielding a sword more than a musician cradling an instrument.

"Not quite," Krishna laughed, "Unless you're planning to duel with the notes instead of playing them."

With a soft chuckle, Krishna gently repositioned Devashree's hands, guiding her fingers along the flute with a tenderness that made her heart skip a beat. His touch was feather-light yet firm, his fingers tracing the contours of hers with a delicate precision.

"Almost there," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "Relax your grip, let the flute rest gently in your hands. Imagine it as an extension of yourself, an instrument through which your soul can speak."

As he adjusted her grip, his proximity sent a flush of warmth spreading through Devashree's cheeks. She could feel the subtle rise and fall of his chest against her back, the heat of his body seeping into hers, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

"There," he murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. "Now, let the music flow from within you. Close your eyes and listen to the whispers of your heart."

Devashree took a deep breath, her fingers trembling slightly against the flute.

With Krishna's guidance, Devashree attempted her first note, which emerged as a sound somewhere between a distressed yak and a startled cat.

She looked at Krishna, her expression a mix of horror and amusement.

"Is that the sound of a donkey, or have I just summoned a heard of hyenas?"

Krishna couldn't help but laugh, his amusement contagious as it spread to Devashree, who couldn't suppress a giggle herself.

"Let's try again," he encouraged, his voice gentle yet filled with playful determination.

Patiently, Krishna guided her through the basics, and slowly, the discordant notes began to harmonize into something that resembled music.

With renewed focus, Devashree followed Krishna's instructions, her fingers finding a more natural position on the flute. This time, as she blew into the instrument, a sweet, melodious note filled the air, resonating with the serenity of the twilight.

Krishna smiled, his eyes shining with pride as he listened to the pure sound emanating from the flute. "There you go," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "That's the sound of progress, look the birds are returning back to their nest, probably wondering who is playing such beautiful melody."

Flushed with success and the joy of the moment, Devashree replied, "Or maybe they're just trying to figure out if the end of the world is on them."

Krishna chuckled softly at Devashree's playful remark. "Well, if the end of the world sounds as beautiful as your music, I wouldn't mind it one bit," he teased, his voice laced with affection.

In that moment of shared happiness, Krishna's gaze softened, his eyes locking with Devashree's in a silent exchange of understanding and warmth. 

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he inched closer to her, the distance between them shrinking with each passing heartbeat.

Devashree's breath caught in her throat as she felt Krishna's presence drawing nearer, her heart pounding with anticipation.

Krishna's warm breath fanned against her cheek, sending shivers down her spine as their faces hovered mere inches apart. Time seemed to stand still in that fleeting moment, as if the entire universe held its breath, waiting for their next move.

Their eyes locked, each reflecting the depth of emotion swirling within them. Devashree felt herself drowning in the vast ocean of Krishna's gaze, losing herself in its depths.

Their lips were just a whisper apart, and the anticipation was almost unbearable. Devashree's eyes fluttered shut, surrendering to the inevitability of the moment

But before their lips could meet in a tender kiss, a young calf came bounding towards them, its playful antics breaking the spell of intimacy that had enveloped them.

Startled, Krishna and Devashree pulled away from each other, their cheeks tinged with a delicate shade of pink as they shared an awkward glance. Clearing his throat, Krishna composed himself with a sheepish smile.

The calf nuzzled against Krishna, its big, innocent eyes looking up at him as if seeking attention. Krishna gently patted its head, his fingers brushing against Devashree's as he did so. Their eyes met again, and this time, the laughter in their eyes spoke of an unspoken promise, a bond that had only grown stronger despite the interruption.

Krishna chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension. "It seems we have a little admirer," he said, reaching down to pat the calf's head affectionately. The calf nuzzled into Krishna's touch, oblivious to the moment it had interrupted.

Devashree let out a nervous laugh, her cheeks still warm from the near-kiss. She reached out and gently scratched the calf behind its ear, feeling a mixture of relief and disappointment. "I suppose our music lesson isn't the only thing capturing attention today," she said, her voice tinged with amusement.

Krishna's eyes twinkled as he looked at her. "Indeed. But perhaps it's a sign that we should share our music with the world, even if it's just with this little one." He guided Devashree's hand back to the flute, their fingers brushing once more, reigniting the spark between them.

As she positioned the flute to her lips, Krishna stood close behind her, his presence a comforting anchor. "Remember, Shree, let your heart guide your fingers," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

With renewed focus, Devashree began to play, the notes flowing more naturally this time. Krishna's hands gently guided hers, helping her find the correct positions and rhythms. The melody they created together was simple yet beautiful.

The calf, now content with the attention it had received, settled down at their feet, its large eyes watching them curiously.

As the last notes of their song faded into the twilight, Krishna turned to Devashree, his expression tender and full of admiration. "You played beautifully, Shree," he said, his voice sincere. "Your music has a way of touching the soul."

Devashree felt a surge of pride and warmth at his words. "Thank you, Krishna. I couldn't have done it without you"

Krishna's smile widened, and he took a step closer, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. 

But there was another soul who was burning while watching their beautiful exchange.

A young Gopi named Sushila was observing this exchange.  Her heart heavy with a mixture of sorrow and longing, she had stumbled upon Krishna and Devashree's intimate moment by the river. Her usual serene composure was shattered as she witnessed the bond that was blossoming between Krishna and another.

Her fists clenched at her sides, she fought back tears, feeling an ache deep within her chest. She had always known Krishna's heart was vast, capable of holding infinite love, but seeing him so tender and close with some outsider was more painful than she had imagined.

Her heart heavy with unease, she ran back and sought out Radha and the other Gopis in the Nidhivan, where they often gathered.

"Radha, sakhiyon," Sushila began, her voice quivering with a mixture of anger and sorrow, "have you not seen? The new girl, she has captured our Krishna's attention. Their laughter echoes through the groves every evening, and Krishna, he plays his flute for her and even taught it to her, an honor we thought reserved for us, his devoted Gopis."

The words seemed to hang in the air, a heavy cloud of betrayal and hurt descending upon the group.

An outsider, someone outside the circle of the Gopis, caused a sharp sting of being replaced and sidelined for each of them, who were mirrors of devotion and love for Krishna.

"Indeed, Sushila speaks the truth," another Gopi, named Sunita, added, her eyes clouded with distress. "Where once Krishna would regale us with tales and songs, now he spends his hours with this girl, teaching her arts that were once shared among us."

"I heard she is a princess."

"What does she think? That by adorning herself with precious jewels,draping herself in silks and crowns, she can enchant Krishna." A gopi scoffed.

"But I have seen her, she wears no ornaments and doesn't even seem to know how to dress herself. Looks quite plain, if you ask me. She must have casted some magic on our beloved Krishna"

The idea that someone from beyond their circle, especially a princess with no prior claim to Krishna's affections, could draw him away, was a bitter potion to swallow.

"It is as if we are shadows, fading in the light of her presence," murmured a third Gopi, her voice barely above a whisper, yet laden with hurt. "Does our devotion, our love, not matter to Krishna anymore? Are we to be forgotten, like leaves carried away by the river's flow?"

Her words struck a chord among the gathered Gopis, igniting a chorus of grievances that filled the evening air with a bitter lament.

Radha, always the peacemaker, tried to temper the rising tide of emotions. "But Krishna's love is boundless. Don't you remember our beautiful Raas Leela from yesterday? Surely, there is room in his heart for us all?"

Yet, her words seemed to fall on deaf ears, as another Gopi, named Gita, retorted sharply, "Boundless love or not, it's clear who commands his attention now. The princess, with her royal charm and learned ways, has enchanted him. Where does that leave us, the simple maidens of Vrindavan?"

"Have you seen how Krishna looks at her?" Lalita's voice broke the uneasy silence, her eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and disbelief. "There's a tenderness, a devotion, that was once ours to claim. Are we now to be mere spectators in this play of love?"

The question hung heavy, a palpable manifestation of their fears and insecurities.

As their gathering under the banyan tree took a bitter turn, the air thick with grievances and unspoken fears, the Gopis' emotions spiraled from distress into anger. 

Their words, once dipped in the nectar of love and devotion, now lashed out, a reflection of their wounded hearts.

"Does Krishna not see?" Lalita exclaimed, her voice sharp, "That princess, with her regal airs and learned grace, what does she know of our love, our sacrifices for Krishna? She walks in here, with her silk saree and scholarly talk, and suddenly, she is all that Krishna can see!"

Her words found a receptive audience among the Gopis, their own hurt magnifying the harshness of the criticism. Radha, always the voice of reason, struggled to interject, but the tide of resentment was too strong.

"Krishna was ours long before she arrived. It's as if we are now mere shadows in our own realm, forgotten and sidelined.This princess, with her delicate manners and gentle smile, has she bewitched Krishna so completely that he forgets those who have always been by his side?"

"Indeed," added another Gopi, her voice heavy with disdain.

"Perhaps she believes her royal blood elevates her above us, mere Gopis," sneered another, the bitterness in her voice a stark contrast to the loving tones usually reserved for Krishna. "But can her polished words and learned arts truly match the depth of our devotion?"

The gathering spiraled further into a vortex of negative emotions, their words were no longer just expressions of hurt but pointed insults aimed at undermining Devashree's character and intentions. 

The purity of their hearts was clouded by the fear of losing Krishna's affection, leading them down a path of harsh judgment and unwarranted hostility.

As the night wore on, the Gopis' anger and harsh words cast a shadow over Vrindavan.

The Gopis, in their moment of weakness, had allowed their emotions to take a wrong turn, forgetting the essence of the unconditional love they had always championed.

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A/N

What did you like about this chapter? Lemme know in the comments.❤️

Did you like the letter? Isn't Dharmendra a cool brother?😎😎

And Devashree, meri chori ko pyar ho gaya hai!😍😍

Also if you enjoyed it do consider voting because it helps other readers to discover this story.❤️✨

And the Gopis did develop a pride at one time, I will attach the part from Bhagwagat in the upcoming chapters.