At Karna's question, the court stirred like a pond disturbed by a stone.
Some ministers exchanged uneasy glances.
A few leaned closer to one another as if hoping someone else would speak first.
Others lowered their eyes, suddenly fascinated by the patterns on the marble floor. It was not that they lacked opinions, but in a court like this, giving the wrong opinion in front of the king and queens could turn into a lifelong embarrassment.
Even though Karna never punished honest speech, fear was an old habit in human hearts.
A silence stretched for a couple of moments.
Then the new Rajguru, Someshwara, rose to his feet.
He was a tall man with a sharp forehead mark of ash and sandalwood, his robes clean and his posture full of priestly confidence. His voice was steady, loud enough to carry to every corner of the hall.
"Maharaj," Someshwara said, folding his hands, "the answer is simple."
Karna's eyes remained calm, but his expression sharpened slightly, as if he was already curious about what kind of "simple" answer the Rajguru intended to give.
Someshwara continued without hesitation. "In the Puranas, this matter has been explained clearly. It is written in the story of Lord Vishnu and Lord Brahma, before creation began."
The court listened closely. Even the ministers who had been whispering earlier straightened their backs, eager to hear a well-packaged explanation.
Someshwara's voice grew more theatrical, like a storyteller reciting sacred history.
"Narayana and Brahmadeva opened their eyes simultaneously," he said. "Brahmadeva saw that he was seated upon a giant lotus, and the stalk of that lotus was attached to Lord Vishnu's navel."
A murmur of recognition spread through the court. Many had heard the story before.
Someshwara then lifted his chin slightly, his tone becoming firmer.
"Brahmadeva and Narayana argued, each claiming that he came first. Each believed himself to be the origin. Then Parameshwara appeared in the form of the Ananta Linga."
His voice echoed across the hall.
"He told them, 'Whoever can find my end is the supreme.'"
Someshwara's eyes swept across the audience, his voice lowering as if sharing a divine secret.
"Both Brahmadeva and Narayana searched, but neither could find his end. Neither could see the top, nor the bottom. And then they were taught the truth."
He raised his hand slightly, emphasizing every word.
"Parameshwara… Mahadeva… Lord Shiva is the origin," Someshwara said. "He is the supreme."
Karna's eyes narrowed just a fraction. It was subtle, almost invisible, but the shift was there.
Someshwara did not notice, or perhaps he simply did not care.
"Without Mahadeva sacrificing his Shakti counterpart," Someshwara continued, "Lord Brahma could not have even created the universe. Hence, Brahma and Narayana are not on equal footing to compare with Lord Shiva."
That last line carried a sharp finality, as if it were meant to end the discussion entirely.
Karna's fingers tightened slightly around the armrest of his throne.
His expression remained composed, but his brows lowered faintly, like a man who had just heard a statement he did not fully approve of.
Someshwara, however, continued smoothly, unaware that he had stepped into a delicate space.
"However," he added, softening his tone, "Regardless of their origin, Lord Vishnu is still the preserver of the universe. He is the one who descends to earth in various incarnations to protect humanity whenever adharma rises to its peak."
A few ministers nodded along, relieved that the Rajguru was at least being respectful toward the other deity.
Someshwara's voice then became more philosophical. "Both represent different things, Maharaj. One represents spiritual liberation, while the other represents material preservation. Therefore, both cannot be worshipped equally in the same place. Those who seek different things elevate their chosen deity as the prime."
His gaze shifted briefly toward Karna, as if trying to align his explanation with the kingdom's dominant devotion.
The court remained silent for a moment.
Then a few murmurs of approval began.
The Rajguru sat back down with the satisfaction of a man who believed he had given a complete answer.
*
Kanipura had always been a Shaiva kingdom.
Even before Karna's arrival, the people who lived in this part of Dakshina Kalinga worshipped Mahadeva with fierce devotion. Temples of Shiva stood in every district, ash marks were worn proudly on foreheads, and even fishermen on the river whispered "Har Har Mahadev" before casting their nets.
Under Karna's rule, that devotion had only deepened.
Not because Karna forced it.
He never forced anything upon his people.
But because the king himself was an ardent devotee of Mahadeva, the citizens naturally mirrored what they saw in their ruler. Naturally, the people felt their own devotion grow stronger.
Yet, despite this dominance, Vaishnavas were never discriminated against or faced any financial problems in developing their sect.
Because Karna's rule was not based on religious pride.
It was based on justice.
Still, Karna did not respond to Someshwara's explanation.
He did not nod.
He did not disagree.
He simply sat quietly, his eyes steady, his face unreadable.
Because, unlike most men in this court, Karna did not grow up among humans.
He had not absorbed belief from stories told by priests.
He had not been taught devotion through fear.
He had not worshipped gods because society told him to.
He had met them.
He had witnessed Tridev with his own eyes.
He had even eaten food cooked by Goddess Parvati with her own hands.
So when someone spoke about Mahadeva and Narayana as if one was higher and the other lesser, Karna could not fully accept it.
But he also did not correct Someshwara.
Not because he lacked the knowledge.
But because he understood that belief was not something to be shattered publicly like a pot.
If he humiliated the Rajguru, he would humiliate the faith of many who followed him. And Karna very well knew the strength of these sects.
Instead, he simply looked across the court again.
"Anyone else want to state their opinions?" Karna asked calmly.
His voice was gentle, but it carried weight.
"It does not matter what others think," he added. "It does not matter whether you are right or wrong. I am asking for your opinions."
The ministers shifted uneasily.
One by one, they avoided his gaze.
Finally, a senior minister cleared his throat. "Maharaj," he said quickly, "I completely agree with Rajguru..."
Another minister nodded immediately. "Yes, Maharaj. Rajguru has spoken the truth."
A third added hurriedly, "There is no need for other opinions. Rajguru's answer is perfect."
Soon, the same sentence echoed from mouth to mouth like a safe chant. Nobody dared offer a different view. Nobody dared risk appearing foolish in front of the king.
Karna watched them quietly.
Vrishaketu, sitting on Karna's lap, looked up at his father with innocent eyes, still waiting. His little face carried curiosity as if he wanted his father to say that it is the right answer.
Karna's gaze then shifted away from the ministers.
Instead, he looked toward Sumedha.
"Rani Sumedha," Karna said, "you have read the Linga Purana, Vaishnava Purana, and even Shakta Purana. You have knowledge of the Vedas. You have read far more scriptures than anyone here."
The ministers stiffened. Some swallowed nervously.
Karna's eyes remained fixed on her.
"So," he asked, "what do you think about Rajguru's opinion?"