The grand chariot bearing Dwarka's emblem rolled past the majestic gates of Hastinapur, its golden arches glinting in the afternoon sun. Vaidehi's gaze wandered over the bustling streets, her sharp eyes absorbing every detail. The city, with its intricate carvings and vibrant marketplaces, spoke of power and prosperity.

"Jiji, the palace! Look at how grand it is!" Subhadra's voice bubbled with excitement as she leaned slightly out of the chariot for a better view.

Vaidehi turned her head, following Subhadra's gaze. Hastinapur's palace stood tall and imposing, its spires piercing the sky. The grandeur didn't intimidate her, but it reminded her of the responsibility she carried. She adjusted the dupatta of her simple yet elegant lehenga, her lips curving into a faint smile. "It is beautiful, Subhadra. But remember, beauty often hides complexity."

As they entered the palace courtyard, royal attendants rushed to welcome them. A woman in a silk sari, her demeanor warm yet commanding, approached the chariot.

"Welcome, princesses of Dwarka."

"Bua Kunti!" Subhadra exclaimed, leaping from the chariot with an enthusiasm that made Kunti laugh. The elder woman enveloped her niece in a loving embrace before turning to Vaidehi.

"Vaidehi," Kunti said, her voice soft yet filled with pride. "You've grown into a fine young woman."

Vaidehi bent slightly in respect, her voice calm and poised. Thank you so much bua. You too have grown more beautiful with time"

Kunti smiled at the girls and pulled them in a hug.

---

The Kalapradarshan began with a series of performances and demonstrations showcasing the finest warriors, scholars, and artists of the kingdom. 

Vaidehi sat alongside Subhadra in the royal gallery, observing the matches with keen interest. Her posture was composed, but her eyes scanned the arena thoughtfully, noting the techniques and conduct of each warrior.

As Ashwathama called out the next combatants, a wave of anticipation swept through the crowd. "Yudhishthir of the Pandavas versus Durmukha of the Kauravas!"

Yudhishthir entered the arena with calm determination, carrying a spear that gleamed under the sunlight. His demeanor exuded poise and discipline, in stark contrast to the fiery stance of his opponent, Durmukha, who spun his weapon with a flourish meant to intimidate.

Vaidehi leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "He carries himself like a seasoned leader," she murmured to Subhadra.

Subhadra, munching on a sweet, smirked. "Wait till you see Arjun. He steals the show every time."

The duel began, and Durmukha charged with a ferocious attack, aiming his spear at Yudhishthir with impressive speed. However, Yudhishthir sidestepped the strike gracefully, countering with a precise thrust that forced his opponent to retreat.

The exchange continued, a delicate balance of aggression and defense. Yudhishthir's movements were deliberate and calculated, his strikes aimed to disarm rather than harm. Durmukha, frustrated by his inability to land a hit, grew reckless, giving Yudhishthir the opening he needed.

With a swift maneuver, Yudhishthir knocked Durmukha's spear out of his hands, the weapon clattering to the ground. The crowd erupted in cheers, but Yudhishthir's reaction was devoid of arrogance.

He stepped back, lowering his spear, and bowed respectfully to his opponent, his hands joined in acknowledgment of Durmukha's effort. Durmukha hesitated, then returned the gesture, though his pride was visibly bruised.

What followed next caught Vaidehi's attention more than the duel itself. Before turning to the cheering crowd, Yudhishthir walked to the royal gallery, where Kunti sat. Standing tall, he joined his hands and bowed to her, his expression reverent.

"Impressive," Vaidehi remarked softly.

Subhadra, catching the subtle admiration in her sister's tone, grinned. "He's the epitome of dharma. If he were a book, Jiji, you'd be reading him already."

Vaidehi ignored her sister's teasing as Yudhishthir's gaze briefly met hers. The exchange was fleeting, yet something about his composed demeanor struck her deeply.

As Yudhishthir left the arena, he joined Nakul and Sahdev, who stood at the edge, cheering their brother. They greeted him with proud smiles, their camaraderie evident in their relaxed stance.

Vaidehi observed them from a distance, impressed not just by the skill but by the grace and humility Yudhishthir displayed.

Then came Arjun. His precision with the bow left the audience in awe. Vaidehi couldn't help but admire his skill, though her thoughts were interrupted by the voice of Guru Dronacharya as he announced with immense pride "From the day I saw him, I knew that he would be the greatest archer the world has ever seen may I present you the best archer in the world- Kaunteya Arjun"

As the cheers erupted the hall, Vaidehi could not help but frown.

Bheem pumped his fist from the corner where all the other brothers of Arjun were standing- Yudhishthir had a proud expression on his face, Nakul and sahadev were chanting along side the audience.

Aswatthama who was sitting at the podium with his father gave Arjun thumbs up with a teasing smile.

However Vaidehi felt other wise, the declaration was not the one filled of pride but was of arrogance, as she opened her mouth to oppose it someone beat her to it.

"Before declaring him as the best archer in the world" A voice roared "How about you test him against me?"

Silence fell in the stadium as a man who looked half a decade older than Arjun jumped in the arena. His clothes were that of a commoner, his bow resting on his shoulder as his stern gaze was directed towards Arjun.

"I challenge you PanduPutr, raise up your bow and fight me"

Arjun looked at Dronacharya who was seething in anger.

"Do you need permission from you gurudev to prove yourself?" The stranger questioned.

"Who are you?" Bhism's voice echoed in the arena as he looked at the stranger.

"Its funny you don't recognise me Mahamahim. I am Radhey Karna, the son of Adhirath and Radha" Karna introduced himself his voice filled with pride.

Dronacharya's sharp gaze fixed on Karna. "You wish to challenge Prince Arjun?" he asked, his voice laden with authority. "Do you understand what you are asking, son of Adhirath? In Hastinapur, the bow and arrow are reserved for the Ksatriyas. What right does a Sutaputra have to make such a challenge?"

The murmurs of the crowd grew louder, rippling through the arena like a storm brewing.

"Sutaputra?" Bhishma's voice rose above the murmurs, his expression betraying disbelief.

The whispers turned into angry chants, swelling into a unified voice:
"Go back, Sutaputra! Go back!"
"Sutas cannot wield the bow and arrow!"

Bhishma stepped forward, his tone severe. "This is a sacred arena of warriors, Karna. By stepping onto this ground with such demands, you insult its sanctity. Return to your rightful place."

The words struck the arena like a thunderclap, and Arjun's eyes darted to his grandsire, stunned. He had never heard Bhishma speak with such finality, especially to a warrior.

The chants grew louder, relentless.
"Go back, Sutaputra! Go back!"

But Karna stood firm, his gaze defiant as he raised his voice above the clamor. "Why?" he shouted, his words cutting through the noise like an arrow through the wind. "Why is a Suta denied the right to wield weapons? Why must birth, and not competence, decide a warrior's worth?"

His fiery question silenced the crowd for a brief moment, but Dronacharya's calm, measured tone swiftly filled the void. "Karna, this is not the first time you have asked me this. My answer remains the same. The higher knowledge of weaponry is a privilege of the Ksatriyas and Brahmins. This is the way of the world. Every man has his place, and charioteers are respected in theirs."

Bhishma nodded, his voice laced with authority. "Adhirath is a man of honor. I consider him a dear friend, but he knows his place. He would never presume to take up arms. You would do well to learn the same humility."

The veins in Karna's forehead stood out as he clenched his fists. Fury blazed in his eyes, but his voice, though loud, was steady. "And what if," he said, each word heavy with defiance, "the son of a charioteer defeated the warrior you call the greatest archer in the world? Would the world still call me unworthy? Or would it finally accept that even a Sutaputra can stand among the best?"

His challenge hung in the air like a taut bowstring, and for a moment, no one spoke. The audience, the royal family, and even the princes seemed frozen in the weight of his words.

"I agree with Radhey Karna" Vaidehi's voice cut through the silence like a knife. her gaze was sharp and directed towards Dritarashtra.

"Is Hastinapur so bound by tradition that it blinds itself to talent and virtue?" she asked, her voice cutting through the murmurs. "In Dwarka, all castes are allowed the right to education and weaponry. Should Hastinapur not strive for the same?"

Her words stunned the court. All eyes turned to her as she met them with unwavering confidence. Bhishma's expression softened with thought, but before he could respond, Duryodhan stepped forward again.

"Pitamah it is against the rule for a suta to fight but is it against rule if that suta is a king?"

"No but-" Bheesm was again cut off by Duryodhan who looked at his father "Then pitashree I request you to make Karna the king of Anga"

Karna, still struggling to wrap his mind around the new reality, snapped out of his thoughts and stammered, his words faltering. "I... I cannot accept it, Prince. This kingdom—this throne—it is yours by right. I cannot take what belongs to you."

Duryodhan shook his head, his eyes unwavering. "But I am offering it to you, Karna," he said, his voice low but firm. "As a gift of friendship. I ask you, as a friend, to accept it."

Karna's heart hammered in his chest. This wasn't just about a kingdom; it was about something deeper, something he had never experienced before. Friendship. True, unwavering friendship.

The arena around them grew still as Karna tried to voice his doubts, his fears. "I have done nothing to deserve this, Prince," he said quietly, his voice barely audible against the backdrop of hushed whispers.

But Duryodhan was quick to correct him. "Friend," he said softly, his eyes locked with Karna's. "I am not the Prince to you. I am your friend. And this is not a favor from a king—it is the gesture of a friend."

The two men stood there, in the quiet tension of the room, their gazes meeting in a silent understanding. It was a moment that would forever change the course of both their lives. No words were needed now. The bond was forged. Karna, for the first time in his life, had someone who saw him for who he truly was—not his birth, but his worth.

By the time the first arrows were released, Karna realized that his opponent was far more skilled than he'd originally anticipated. Arjun's precision and agility with the bow were remarkable, and Karna could see the same recognition in Arjun's eyes—a realization that both warriors had underestimated each other. What started as a confident, almost casual duel had quickly turned into a fierce, head-to-head contest, each trying to outmaneuver the other.

Neither one could break through the other's defenses. The crowd's energy was palpable, the air thick with excitement, as gasps, shrieks, and cheers filled the arena. The spectators were more animated than they had been for any of the previous duels, though it was clear that Arjun had the lion's share of supporters. He was the beloved prince, known for his noble nature, incredible skill, and charm. Yet, Karna, ever the outsider, wasn't bothered by the crowd's preference. It was to be expected. But even as the chants of "Arjun! Arjun!" rang through the air, Karna's sharp ears picked up a few voices in the stands from the direction of the Kauravas, cheering for him. It felt like the first moment he had been acknowledged by anyone other than Duryodhan, and it filled him with a strange sense of pride.

The duel continued, relentless and fierce. As the warriors engaged, Karna's armor clinked, his bowstring twanged with every shot. Suddenly, an unexpected turn of events startled the crowd. With a swift motion, Karna activated his divine armor, the Kavacha, which shimmered into being around him, glowing golden and radiant. The audience gasped in shock and awe. Arjun faltered for a moment, eyes wide as the mystical armor materialized in front of him.

Karna's protective Kavacha—a gift from his mother, the divine protection of Indra's boon—shielded him from Arjun's onslaughts. The brilliance of the armor left everyone stunned, with some whispering in disbelief about its legendary origins. The arena, for a fleeting moment, seemed to hold its breath.

But amidst the commotion, Kunti, who had been watching the duel from the royal seats, grew pale as she saw the armor take shape around Karna. Her breath hitched as she recognized the divine armor, and her heart lurched in her chest. The shock of the moment overwhelmed her, and Kunti fainted, collapsing into the arms of her maid Priyamvada, who rushed to support her. Subhadra, who was seated beside her, was immediately at her side, helping Priyamvada steady her as Kunti was gently escorted out of the arena.

Vaidehi, who had been watching the duel with great interest, felt a pang of disappointment as the scene unfolded. She had been hoping to witness the conclusion of such an intense face-off, but Kunti's condition had quickly taken precedence. She was guided away from the arena along with Subhadra and Priyamvada. As they walked through the corridors, Vaidehi thoughts drifted back to the duel. She couldn't help but feel the frustration of having to leave just as the battle between Karna and Arjun reached its peak. 

Meanwhile, as the sunset painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, signaling the end of the duel, the warriors slowly lowered their weapons, their faces showing exhaustion and respect for one another. The crowd, now quiet, could feel the tension ease in the air.

---

The Kala Pradarshan successfully ended as Vaidehi and Subhadra sat with Kunti in her chambers sharing stories of their childhood in Dwarka or Vrindavan in Vaidehi's case.

"And then maiya yashoda beated bhrata krishna. It was too fun" Kunti chuckled and Subhadra giggled as Vaidehi smiled remembering her childhood.

"Rajmata your sons request an audience with you" Priyamvada says as she glances at the princess hoping they'll leave. The sharp gaze of Dwarkakumari Vaidehi made her uncomfortable.

"Allow them in" Rajmata says as Priyamvada nods her head.

The pandavas entered together and walked towards their mother. They immediately bent down to get her blessings however, kunti pulled them up and bought them all in a hug. 

Vaidehi and Subhadra smiled at the scene.

The brothers separated from their mother and turned to Rajkumari.

Vaidehi folded her hands and bowed her head slightly, "Pranipat Rajkumar" She greeted and Subhadra soon followed.

"Pranipat Rajkumari. Humari mata ke saath rehne ke liye aap dono ka abhar." Yudhishthir says referring to the earlier incident.

"Abhar vyakt karke hume sharminda na kare Rajkumar. Bua Kunti humari mata saaman hai" Yudhishthir nods as he and Vaidehi smile at each other.

"Agya deejiye bua" Vaidehi asks permission to leave from Kunti who nods and smiles.

The other pandavas gave smirk to their eldest brother who flushed while Kunti stood their confused.