This dream, it seemed, straddled the border between nightmare and mere dream, and Lilavati opened her eyes, blinking at the ceiling.

She shook her head and rose to sit down, staring at the bed and hugging her knees.

Time passed in silence. The angle of the moon rays shifted and she tossed and turned, trying to find sleep. When it was clear she would get no more sleep, she let out a frustrated huff and resigned herself to staring at the ceiling.

"Anything wrong, Lila?"

Her husband's low voice drifted into her ear and she nearly started, calming herself at the last second. She shifted her position enough to look at Krishna, and lo, he was awake.

"I can't sleep," she confessed breathily.

Sympathy softened his expression. He rose and took her hand, interlacing their fingers.

"Do you want to go for a walk?"

Lilavati nodded. Her husband smiled, rising from the bed and offering his hand to help her stand up. She accepted it, and they walked hand in hand to the gardens.

"Let me show you something."

He guided their path, and it struck her at how easy it was to fall into step with him, walk and breathe in the same rhythm as her lord.

They walked into a garden.

There was something different about this garden... in a good way.

The indivara and amphala lotus blooms poignantly floated upon a sapphire pond as gumusservi shimmered on the crystalline waters. The blushing hibiscuses and thorny beguiling roses swayed flanking the gated lawns of the Shriyas who held the heart of Murlidhara. The earthy aroma of petrichor and enticing jasmine beckoned her like a bee and Lilavati was pulled in the lands of utopia. Each of the flora was wrapped in an orphic magic paired with the moonlight that embraced and enthused her in a way that could only be Dvaravati—her husband's solace. Her own too.

Krishna noted her observation, and smiled, squeezing her hand.

"This garden belongs to my beloveds," he began softly. "Each and every plant you see here has been nourished by their hands, growing up in their maternal shelter. Most of the plants here were sown by Bhamae herself, and being Dharani herself... is it really a wonder it is so beautiful?"

His voice teetered on the edge of reverential there, and her heart felt like it would burst with the love her husband held for his Priyaas.

"It is unlike anything I've ever seen, Natha," she whispered.

"Kanha."

She looked at him in surprise. His smile was like a freshly uncurling lotus, soft and vivid.

"Call me Kanha, Lila."

Lilavati bowed her head.

"I can't—not just yet."

"Then I will keep insisting until you do," his smile had gained a teasing edge.

She smirked lightly. "I'd like you to try, Priyatama."

It was worth it, letting that alien term of endearment slip her lips to see him flush a dark red, if only briefly.

"You've clearly learned something from your elder sisters."

"I have," she agreed, enjoying the easy banter between them.

They sat down on the cool, dewy grass, staring up at the stars in silence, hands intertwined.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Lilavati saw Krishna watching her carefully as he uttered those words, gauging her reaction.

Her lips quirked upwards briefly.

"Family," she found herself saying slowly. "The question of whether I had a family or not. It wasn't a nightmare, neither a dream. Somewhere in between."

The word seemed to have struck a chord in her husband's heart.

"Family..." he mused almost silently, sensing her need to have someone talk to her.

"Did I ever tell you about the history behind this garden?" he queried to fill the silence.

Lilavati shook her head.

She could hear a story behind his question, and settled into his side, seeking physical comfort to anchor herself into the moment.

"Back then, Dvaraka was yet a kingdom in its infancy; and my marriage to Rukku yet young. You know the history of our marriage: that her brother opposed her choice of me and that I had to take her away. She one day came to me and requested me for a piece of land to grow flowers in, and the gardens were still growing then. I gave her this place, although she did not tell me why she wished for it nor knew that I would give her the universe if she so asked.

"She grew lotuses from Vidarbha in that very pond," his sweeping gesture towards the pond drew her gaze towards the water body, shimmering silvery-blue with the lotuses floating atop like ornaments upon the idol of a beloved goddess. "And this garden became her refuge. It bloomed beautifully under her skilled touch. Any time she missed her home, if I couldn't find her anywhere else, I knew I'd find her here."

"The kingdom grew and so did our family. Eventually, Rukku was not my only wife though she holds a special place in my heart, and Bhamae brought up the idea of her opening the garden only to them. I wondered how she would take it; the garden had been the only place where she could feel like she was still the princess of Vidarbha, not the queen of Dvaravati, no matter how much she loved the land. I reminded her it wasn't necessary that she acquiesce to Bhamae's request, even if she loved her like her own uterine sister, but Rukku remained stubborn and slowly opened the garden to her sisters.

"It seemed hard, watching my Rukmini open a place that was her only solace to others, letting them plant saplings in the dirt that had known naught but her own nurturing touch, but soon her efforts manifested multifold, when Pita Satraajita was killed and only the garden could bring some comfort to Bhamae and her sisters."

His tone was growing softer and more nostalgic as golden memories danced across the garden, manifest by his Maya: an ethereal spectre of Rukmini gently kneeling by the bushes, her fingers kneading through the dirt as she planted a tiny sapling; the ghostly echo of sweet laughter drifting over the wind; bitter tears shed over the loss of a father slowly turning to a lull in grief in the embrace of Prakriti.

Lilavati lost herself in his words, letting his mellifluous voice flow through her and touch some distant part of her, as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"And now here you are, taking comfort from the silence in the garden and the memories of your elder sisters. This garden keeps giving and giving," Krishna ended silently, watching her as Lilavati's breaths seemed to even out and she approached sleep.

She shifted sleepily as he moved, and he smiled fondly at her.

"Come darling, I'll take you to bed."

The words were only a soft murmur beyond the veil of sleep that clouded Lilavati's eyes, and a small part of her wished to weep at the gentleness he was treating her with.

He carried her back to their chambers, Lilavati drifting between half-awareness and gentle sleep.

Krishna laid her on the bed, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he climbed in beside her; and anything beyond that was lost to her as she finally drifted away.

~

The court was cacaphonous, as Lilavati settled into her seat, eyes sweeping over the large number of people sitting in the room.

She had not been around these many people in nearly a month, since her captivity, and the Sabha, no matter how beautiful, was always going to bring back memories of her near-incarceration and questioning.

Drums sounded, all attention snapping to the door.

Guards announced, "Maharaja Ugrasena and Dvarakadhisha Vaasudeva Krishna are arriving!"

Beside his grandfather and flanked by guards, her husband entered the Sabha, and all eyes were on him, the centre point of the room. Dressed in his usual yellow, radiant against the gemstone studded entrance, people bowed to his divine aura, their hands joined.

Krishna raised a hand in solemn blessing, and he looked to his grandfather as they made their way to their thrones.

The ritualistic greetings complete, Kritavarma stood from his throne, shooting Lilavati a smile and said, "Last night, three of my spies who had been sent out on a top-secret mission returned, and when I heard the information I determined it prudent that at least the royals and the nobles be alerted to the situation. This concerns a close friend of mine, and as such my spies were extremely careful when carrying out the mission. I call upon them to present their findings."

Three men walked to the center of the Sudharma Sabha, greeting the elders and royals with a curt pranaam.

"Speak," the king ordered.

"Our humble greetings, YaduNandana," one began, drawing to his fullest height. "We were sent by Arya Kritavarma to scour a prison."

She half listened, half tuned it out knowing she would not be able to stomach any details, as the man spoke of his findings in excruciating detail.

"—one other thing that we had found was a cloth that appeared to be from a flag."

"Show it to us then—this flag you speak of," her husband's father called out in reply.

Another spy retrieved a tattered cloth, discoloured and torn nearly beyond recognition.

He held it out for the court to see.

Soon enough, murmurs of recognition moved throughout the people, people leaning over to talk to their neighbours and talking filled the court.

Lilavati stared at the cloth, knowing she couldn't recognise it.

A cry brought silence to the room.

"Chedi?!"

A/N: Are we getting close to the discovery of who's behind this conspiracy? Maybe. 👀

You guys got any theories?

Oh, and credits to krishna-sahacharini for that beautiful description of the garden. Mah lady's a goddamn goddess of words.