Mrinalini blinked, caught off guard. "Well…"
As she stayed silent, Karna's voice stayed quiet, almost gentle as he explained.
"I lost my wife, Princess. The woman I loved from the age I understood what love is. The woman I promised to stand beside all my life. The woman I could have saved if I had been with her in that moment. It is not easy to let go of that love and that grief and that guilt. Some people carry it for a day. Some for a week. And for some… it takes a lifetime."
He looked down at the river for a moment, watching the water move past.
"I don't know how long it will take me. But until the day my heart finds peace again, I intend to stay here in Kashi—living simply, without expectations or duties. That is all."
Mrinalini listened without interrupting. When he finished, she gave a small nod, understanding settling in her eyes.
"I see," she said softly.
Dhavani stepped out from behind her, trying to say something, but stayed quiet in the end.
"You have suffered greatly," Mrinalini said. "We did not mean to intrude. We apologize."
Karna shook his head. "You did not intrude, Princess. You only asked a question. I answered it."
A brief silence fell between them. The sounds of the ghat drifted in—pilgrims chanting, water lapping against stone, distant temple bells.
Mrinalini spoke again, voice gentle. "Then we will not trouble you further. But please remember your promise."
Karna inclined his head once more.
"I will."
Dhavani looked at him a moment longer, as though she wanted to say something again. But in the end, she still couldn't speak anything at all.
Soon, Karna continued on his way. The Princesses didn't speak further and just watched him leave.
Mrinalini stood on the ghat steps, watching Karna's retreating figure until he blended into the crowd of pilgrims moving along the riverbank. She kept her eyes on him longer than she meant to, until the gentle pressure of Dhavani's hand on her shoulder brought her back.
"Friend," Dhavani said softly, "don't you think you are showing a bit more concern for Karna than necessary?"
Mrinalini turned, startled. "What?"
Dhavani's brow lifted just a little. "We came here so that I could speak to him. But you… you were the one asking questions, standing close, looking at him like that."
Mrinalini's cheeks warmed at that. She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Dhavani frowned, searching her friend's face. "Don't tell me you've developed an interest in him?"
Mrinalini shook her head quickly—too quickly. "What are you saying? I am betrothed to the prince of Mathura."
Dhavani crossed her arms, slightly unconvinced.
Mrinalini looked away, toward the river. The blush stayed on her cheeks. After a moment, she turned back and said, "Forget me. What about you… He was with us the whole time at the Ashram. You didn't even attempt to say anything."
Dhavani's gaze dropped to the ground. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
"I was nervous," she admitted quietly.
Mrinalini studied her friend for a long moment. Then she sighed. "Alright. Don't worry. I'll try to do something."
Dhavani looked up hopefully.
Mrinalini's expression turned thoughtful. She made a small, sad face.
"I feel bad using my father's condition to help you," she said. "But if this act helps you reach the heart of the man you love, then I am sure the gods will forgive me."
Later that evening, Mrinalini entered the queen's private chamber. The queen sat near the window, a small lamp burning beside her. She looked up as her daughter approached.
"Mother," Mrinalini said, folding her hands. "I want to conduct an Annadana for all the pilgrims who have come to Kashi. For Father's sake. Perhaps Mahadeva will bless him and cure his sickness."
The queen's eyes softened. She reached out and touched Mrinalini's cheek.
"That is a beautiful thought, my child. You have my permission."
The door opened behind them. Uncle Mallikarjuna stepped in, his face calm but his eyes sharp.
"I heard," he said. "Let me preside over the event. Your father is my brother, too. I should be the one to organize it in his name."
Mrinalini turned to face him.
"No, Uncle. I want to do this myself—as a daughter."
Mallikarjuna's brows rose slightly. "Princess Mrinalini, you are still young. Such events require experience. I only wish to help."
The queen spoke before her daughter could answer. "Let her do what she wants, Elder Brother (Cousin). This is her wish for her father. She should carry it out."
Mallikarjuna looked from mother to daughter. For a moment, his face tightened, but he quickly smoothed it.
"As you wish," he said, bowing slightly to the queen. "I accept the verdict of the temporary ruler."
He turned and left the chamber without another word.
Mrinalini exhaled slowly. She looked at her mother.
"Thank you."
The queen smiled, though the sadness never left her eyes.
"Go now. Plan it well. And may Mahadeva hear your prayers."
Mrinalini bowed and left the room. The corridor was quiet, lit only by small oil lamps along the walls. She walked slowly, thinking of the Annadana, of the thousands who would come to eat, of the man she hoped would be among them.
*
The palace of Kashi had grown quieter in the weeks leading up to the Annadana.
Preparations filled the courtyards—large vessels of rice being soaked, spices ground in stone mortars, stacks of banana leaves cleaned and folded for serving.
Mrinalini moved through the halls each day, checking every detail herself. The event was set for the day after tomorrow.
She wanted everything perfect, not just for the pilgrims, but for the small hope she carried inside her chest.
However, taking everyone by surprise, just a day before the event, a royal chariot from Mathura arrived without warning. The guards announced the visitor with tense voices.
"Prince Vritraketu, son of Maharaj Kamsa ia arriving."
The queen received him in the private audience chamber. Mrinalini and Indraverma stood behind her, silent. Vritraketu entered with the easy confidence of youth who had never known real refusal. He wore fine silk, a jeweled dagger at his waist, and carried himself like a man already crowned.
He bowed just enough to be polite.
"Maharani," he began as they sat down, "my father wishes to proceed with the marriage. It has been delayed for more than four years since Mrinalini came of marriageable age. Kashi continues to stall."
The queen's face remained calm, though her hands tightened in her lap.
"It is not that we wish to stall, Prince. As you can see, the Maharaj has been on his sickbed for years. And young Indraverma is still not old enough to be coronated. We cannot arrange a wedding when the throne itself is uncertain."
Vritraketu's smile did not reach his eyes.
"But Maharani, my father sent me here with a clear warning. Next month, on Shukla Paksha Panchami, the day when Mrinalini turns 21, the marriage will have to proceed. Or else Kashi will face the wrath of Maharaj Kamsa's anger. We will take the princess by force if necessary. Your kingdom is not inexperienced when it comes to powerful forces abducting your princesses. I hope you will not face that disgrace again. Unlike Bhishma or Kuru, Mathura doesn't just take away the Princess… My Father would raze this place to the ground. I'm merely stating it for your sake as well."
The queen's face paled. She drew a slow breath.
"I understand," she said quietly.
Vritraketu bowed again—shallow, almost mocking—and turned to leave.
As he walked down the corridor, he muttered under his breath.
"I still don't understand why I should lower myself to come here and ask for the marriage to a princess of such a tiny kingdom. I am the sole heir, the future king of Mathura."
He stepped into the palace gardens, still frowning. Then he saw them—Mrinalini and Dhavani standing near the jasmine creepers, laughing softly over something one of them had said.
A smile broke across his face. He straightened his shoulders and strode toward them.
"Here I was searching for my wife all over the palace," he called out, voice loud and playful, "and the beauties are here in the garden, playing with flowers?"
Mrinalini's smile vanished at the same time.
However, Dhavani, usually so quiet and shy, turned sharply at that instant.
"Vritraketu," she said, voice suddenly cold and clear. "Did you forget your manners, or what? You dare to speak to your aunt like this?"
Vritraketu stiffened. The smile faltered at her words.
"Young Aunt," he said quickly. "I apologize. I didn't recognize you at first."
Dhavani's eyes narrowed. "Even if you didn't recognize me, learn to respect a woman first."
Mrinalini stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Dhavani's arm.
"Enough," she said quietly. "He is a royal guest."