Arjun's POV:
After what I just witnessed at the riverbank, everything became more clear.
I always thought I understood dharma. I thought I knew what had to be done. But today, standing in the shadow of destiny itself—of a grandmother who once was a queen, whose soul still burns with the fire of the past—I realized that this game was much bigger than I had imagined.
Although I've never seen Devi Satyavati in this life as Arjun, I've seen her portrait in the palace of Hastinapur. Regal. Fierce. Calculated. And now I know. That fire has never left our bloodline.
Anyway...
What I have to do next has become painfully obvious.
I have to stop Mata from spilling the truth to Karna. Not yet. That truth—sharp and sacred as it may be—would only wound him now. And if Duryodhana senses even a whisper of that truth, he will destroy everything in retaliation. Karna's heart is not ready. Nor are we.
First, we go to Varnavat.
We survive.
Then we vanish.
Let the world think the Pandavas are dead. Let them lower their guards. And when the time is right... Draupadi.
Marriage…
That word hits me harder than it should.
Because the moment I thought it, her face came to mind. Subhadra. The innocent promise I made to her under the moonlit corridor in Dwaraka. A future I thought I could build.
But I can't. Not anymore.Atleast for now.
I'm sorry, Subhadra.
There are other promises I must keep. Promises heavier than love. Older than this life.
As I was about to re-enter the palace, I saw him.
Jyesth.
Yudhishthir stood alone in the corridor, hands behind his back, as if he already knew something was wrong.
"Arjun" he said gently, "you look like you've walked through the storm."
"In a way," I replied, forcing a smile, "I have."
I went to him with a plan. One I had just made up. One that could save all of us.
He asked who I was so worked up about.
As expected...
I told him it was Mata. Our mother. The woman who has lived her life as a shadow, sacrificing everything for us. I said she needed rest, peace... a vacation.
He blinked in confusion. "You're suggesting we take her out of Hastinapur... now?"
"Yes," I said, steady and certain. "Let's go to Varnavat. It's peaceful. No politics. No spies. Just... time together. As a family."
He hesitated. But only for a moment. Then, as always, he nodded.
Word of our "trip" spread fast. Too fast.
And, just as I feared...
Karna came.
He found me by the archway, cloaked in suspicion and sunrays.
His eyes weren't angry. Not yet. Just confused. Hurt, maybe.
"Why now, Arjun?" he asked, voice low. "Why leave when things are just settling down? You've never cared for luxury. But running away? That's not like you."
I looked at him.At my brother—though he didn't know it.I was shocked that he even tried to have a conversation...
And I did the only thing I could.
I acted like he didn't exist.
I brushed past him without a word, pretending to fix the strap of my quiver. A coward's move, maybe. But a necessary one.
Before he could say more, another figure stormed in.
Duryodhana.
"Karna!" he barked, eyes narrowing at me. "Why are you wasting breath on him?"
Karna looked between us. Torn.
But in the end... he chose.
As always.
He walked away with his friend, the same friend who kept him chained to a destiny that wasn't his.
And me?
I walked straight back to my brothers.
---
Later...
The road to Varnavat was long and quiet.
Too quiet.
Kunti Mata said little. But I could tell—she knew something was wrong. She felt it in her bones. Her silence was the kind that held oceans of worry.
Bheem cracked a few jokes. Nakul and Sahadev watched the landscape, unsure if this was a retreat or exile. And Yudhishthir... kept glancing at me.
But we arrived.
The palace in Varnavat stood like a mirage—too perfect, too inviting. We would pretend to be at peace here. We would pretend to be unaware.
While back in Hastinapur...
Shakuni and Duryodhana spun their web.
They painted our departure as proof of our weakness. As proof that Yudhishthir was never fit to rule. And Karna?
Karna stood in that same courtroom, head low, as the only family he truly belonged to disappeared from his life once more.
And once again, he stayed.
Because loyalty—when given to the wrong hands—can be just as cruel as betrayal.
But fate isn't done yet.
This is only the beginning.
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