The royal chambers felt colder than usual, despite the lingering scent of incense from the funeral rites. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the palace, casting long shadows on the walls adorned with tapestries. The queen was gone. Her passing had left a void in the hearts of her children and in the soul of the kingdom. The weight of her absence settled like a heavy fog, but for Prativindhya, there was no time for mourning.

Seated at the head of a long, gleaming table, Prativindhya reviewed scrolls of decrees, reports, and petitions with swift efficiency. The kingdom still ran, and he made sure of it. He signed another document, sealing it with the royal insignia—a task that once fell to his mother. He had taken control of everything with an iron precision since the queen’s final breath. Her funeral pyre had barely smoldered before he began issuing orders, delegating tasks, and restoring the kingdom’s rhythm. The people spoke in hushed tones of his leadership—some impressed, others uneasy. But there was no denying it: Prativindhya was a king in all but name now.

Vritika entered the room, her soft footsteps lack the usual tinkle of many charms that she wore. Although the official mourning period was over they haven't gone to their usual attire yet. Prativindhya immediately looked up and hold out his arm. Vritika ran into him. After the hug she took a step beside her eldest brother. Her shoulders hunched with the weight of her loss. Her eyes, hollow and red from tears, contrasted sharply with the calm and calculated demeanor of their older brother. She sat looking out to the window. Prativindhya understood she wasn't ready to talk yet. So he went back to his work.

"Jyesth," she finally spoke, turning away from the window. "You haven’t stopped since… since Mother—"

"Someone has to," he replied, cutting her off with a voice as steady as the tides. His eyes never left the parchment in front of him. "We cannot afford to fall apart."

"But we are falling apart," vriti’s voice trembled . "Doesn't that matter?"

Prativindhya looked up then, his gaze softening. "Of course it matters," he said, his tone so gentle. "But the kingdom won’t wait for us to grieve. Mother knew that. And now, so do I."

"Jyesth you need time to grieve too. You have been throwing yourself to work. It's not healthy." She insisted. Prativindhya looked up. his expression unreadable but his eyes warm as they met hers. He had always known when something troubled her, and today was no exception.

"Vriti," he said softly, "what’s going on? The only time you deflect after my obvious attempt resting the subject is when you are worried about something."

She didn’t look at him immediately, her fists clenching as she tried to gather her thoughts. "It’s lord Dhritarashtra," she said at last, her voice taut. "He keeps telling me I’m the one. The next ruler. That Mother wanted me to take the throne. And he—he’s pushing you and Aadi aside. Like you don’t matter. Like you aren’t already doing everything for the kingdom!"

Prativindhya raised an eyebrow, "He said that?"

"Yes, not in exact words. But he keeps repeating himself about starting training me." she replied, her voice rising in frustration. "It’s like he’s set on making me something I’m not. He’s sidelining you and Adhrith, and I hate it."

For a moment, Prativindhya said nothing, studying her closely, she could see the wheels turning in his mind.

"Vriti," he said after a pause, his voice steady, "no one is sidelining me. Or Adhrith. We’re a family, and families don’t work that way. Lord Dhritarashtra might have his opinions, and I’m sure he has reasons for thinking you’d be a good ruler. But that doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t have a place. Maa entrusted him with coaching the next ruler, but that decision isn’t only his to make. It’s all of ours."

Vriti turned to face him fully, her eyes searching for any trace of doubt. "But what if he keeps insisting? He’s so—so sure, Jyesth. It’s like he’s already decided. Who is he to decide what mumma wanted. He doesn't know her and all her life he hated her. He has no rights to make such decisions. I don’t want to be forced into this. I don’t want to be the reason you and Aadi are overlooked."

Prativindhya reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "You won’t be. Listen to me, Laado. He might be trying to guide you, but ultimately, this isn’t about him, or even about Mother’s wishes. It’s about what’s best for the kingdom—and that’s something we all will decide together. You, me, Aadi.  We’ll have our say." Vritika looked up at the affectionate name her brother just called her. He continued,

"No one’s going to push us apart. And no one’s going to force you into a role you don’t want. You’re not alone in this. I’m here. Adhrith is here. And we’ll figure it out together, as we always do." He gave her a small, reassuring smile.

"But what if—what if they listen to him, jyesth? What if they think I’m better suited than you or Aadi? I don’t want to take anything away from you."

"Vriti, you’re not taking anything away from us. This isn’t about competition. It’s about what’s best for our people. If they choose you, it’ll be because they see something in you—something that could lead us all. And if they choose me or Adhrith, it’ll be for the same reason. Either way, we stand together. Always."

Srutakarma was right. She could trust blindly at her Jyesth's wisdom and decisions. There was no power struggle here, not among them. He was right—whatever happened, they would face it as a family.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice quieter now, but steadier. "I just… I needed to hear that."

"Laado! I'm still alive to worry about things like this. Have faith on this brother of yours." He said placing his hand on her head lovingly. She took that hand of his in to both of hers smiling bright, for the first time in days.

             After Vritika left, Prativindhya has been waiting for the briefing of Noah what to expect from the trade routes. He mentioned something about some disturbance there. He heard Noah saying something snarky to one of the guards just outside his chamber. His sass has been increasing day by day, but Prativindhya feels like he was doing it on purpose to make things lighter for him. To make him laugh. And the young prince was extremely grateful.

Noah entered, the familiar sound of his boots echoing against the stone floor. He tossed a stack of reports onto the desk with a smirk that barely masked his concern.

“Well,” he said, leaning back in a chair opposite Prativindhya, “the foreign traders are doing what they do best—panicking. It’s like they think the kingdom will fall apart if we miss one shipment of silk.”

Prativindhya looked up, brow furrowed. “What’s the situation?”

“Ah, where to begin,” Noah sighed dramatically, feigning deep contemplation. “The spice merchants from the Southern Isles are practically wringing their hands, thinking we’re about to triple their taxes now that your mother is gone. You’d think we were pirates about to plunder their ships.”

Prativindhya’s lips twitched slightly. “They’ve always been a bit… cautious.”

“Cautious?” Noah raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “They’re one mild wind away from declaring the end of trade as we know it. Then there are the Eastern traders, the ones dealing in silk and gems. They’re not so worried about money—they’re terrified someone’s going to rob them blind while we’re ‘distracted by mourning.’” He threw up air quotes for emphasis. “Because, you know, running a kingdom smoothly clearly means we’ve abandoned all sense of security.”

Prativindhya leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “And the Northern traders?”

“Ah, the mercantile guilds. The real fun ones. They’re not panicking—yet. No, they’re biding their time, watching for a crack they can shove a crowbar into. They deal in iron and weapons, so they’re not concerned about luxury or safety. They’re concerned about squeezing every ounce of advantage out of a transition of power.” Noah chuckled darkly.

“Do you think they’ll make a move?”

“They might, but not right away. They like to sit back and wait until they can smell blood in the water. They’re opportunists, Prativindhya. They won’t make a move until they think we’re vulnerable—so the trick is not to look vulnerable.” Noah shrugged, a crooked smile forming on his face.

Prativindhya stood and paced toward the window, his gaze focused outward, though his thoughts were on the words Noah had shared. “We need to stabilize things. Reassure the Southern traders that their profits are safe, show the Easterners that security is still our priority, and remind the Northerners that peace is more lucrative than trying to strong-arm us.”

Noah grinned, leaning forward in his chair. “Sounds like a solid plan, Your Royal Highness. I’ll draft up a message to the Southern Isles—maybe something like, ‘Relax, we’re not pirates. Yet.’ That should ease their minds.”

Prativindhya shot him a sideways glance, though there was amusement in his eyes. “Maybe without the ‘yet,’ Noah.”

“Fine, fine. You ruin all my fun,” Noah quipped, standing and adjusting his sleeves. “But seriously, you’ve got this. I mean, sure, they’re all eyeing us like vultures waiting for us to drop, but hey, nothing new there. You’ll keep them in line.”

Prativindhya gave a small, appreciative smile. “I’ve always had you to help with that.”

Noah winked. “Oh, you flatter me. But don’t worry—I’ll be here to snark my way through any crisis with you.”

"Noah?"

"Yah?"

"On second thought, let's pay them a visit ourselves. They need personal touch. They should see the faces that handling business at City of seasons." Prativindhya said, Noah smirked.

"Now you sounded like the son of Adrika."

       On a different part of the palace, Subhadra stood by the balcony, her hands resting on the cold stone, eyes lost in the vast expanse of the kingdom that gave her the title 'queen sister' without asking and she thought about the other kingdom that she had served for so long without asking for anything in return. That was a place that had shaped her life, where she had silently endured, nurtured, and loved, without ever claiming a part for herself. The place her husband, son and daughter in law was going to tomorrow. Abhimanyu and Uttara would come back for their education soon but they were leaving the next day with Arjun. They all have been trying to convince her to go with them.

"Subhadra," he began softly, his voice almost pleading. "You've done more than anyone could ask. You’ve raised Prativindhya and the others with such love and care, you’ve held this family together. But it’s time… time for you to come with me. We can live peacefully."

"It’s not about need, Arya!" she said quietly "For the first time in my life, it’s about what I want."

Subhadra finally turned to face him, her eyes filled with a quiet strength, a strength that had been forged over years of sacrifice.

"If this isn't my place, a place made by my jiji then where is? I’ve left my desires behind, my needs, my dreams. I’ve played my part, without complaint, without expectation. I stood in the shadows while decisions were made that didn’t consider me."

Arjun’s face softened with regret, his shoulders slumping under the weight of her words. "Subhadra… I know it wasn’t fair. You deserved more. I failed you—"

She shook her head gently, cutting him off. "No, Aarya!  I never expected fairness. I accepted my role, I accepted what life gave me because I loved you, and I loved them. I did what was needed, without asking for anything in return."

Her voice trembled slightly, not with anger, but with the weight of truth. "I raised Prativindhya and his siblings like they were my own. I nurtured this family while Droupadi jiji took charge of everything else. And I did it because it was my duty, because I believed that was what I was meant to do."

Arjun had no words. The depth of her pain, the quiet injustice she had borne for so long, left him speechless. He had always known, on some level, what she had endured, but hearing it laid bare like this was more than he had expected.

Subhadra stepped closer to him, her eyes locking with his. "But now, for once, I want to do something for me. Prativindhya may be strong, but he needs someone by his side. Devarji needs the same care and love that of a child, to come back to his senses. Aadi and Vriti needll stability. These kids survived war. A war which they were never supposed to fight. They did their part. Now I want to do mine. This kingdom, my sister’s kingdom, is where I belong now. Helping him, guiding him… that is what I want. Not because I have to, but because I choose to."

Arjun’s chest tightened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. What could he say? How could he ask her to leave behind the one thing she was finally claiming as her own?

"Subhadra, I… I never wanted this for you. I never wanted you to feel… forgotten."

Subhadra smiled, a bittersweet smile full of the love she still held for him

"I was never forgotten, Aarya. Not by you, or the children. I know you loved me to heaven and back. But I was overlooked. And that’s not something you can change now."

"If this is what you want… if this is truly your choice, I won’t stand in your way. But know that I love you, Subhadra. And I will wait for you, however long it takes." Arjun reached for her hand, his touch gentle, as if he were afraid to break the resolve she had so carefully built.

"I know, Aarya. And I love you too. But this time, I need to follow my own path."

Arjun pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers, a moment of shared understanding passing between them. There was no more need for words. She had chosen, and he, at last, understood the strength of the woman before him. He understood that the yogmaya, that was her wife had this much time and Maya with him. That his time was over. Now she had another purpose. And he needed to respect it.

An.
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