"She is destruction incarnate-everything she touches turns to ash."
Ishani, a sharp-witted and fiercely independent businesswoman from the modern world, trusts no one, least of all men. But fate has other plans. Thrust into a treacherous era of warr...
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The sun bled crimson over the thatched roofs of Hastinapur's outer villages, staining the Yamuna's waters the color of old wounds. Inside Radha's cottage, the air hung thick with the scent of roasted barley and crushed coriander—comforting, earthy smells that did little to ease the tension coiling in Ishani's shoulders.
She sat cross-legged on the woven mat, fingers tracing the rim of an untouched brass plate. Across from her, Karna's adoptive mother hummed as she ground spices, the rhythmic scrape of stone against stone a counterpoint to the evening's restless silence.
Clink.
Karna set down his own plate with deliberate care, his gaze flickering to the shuttered window. For the third time that hour. He didn't want to burden them with the knowledge of his observation, but they needed to know.
"They're watching the house," he said, voice low.
Radha's hands stilled.
Ishani didn't need to ask who they were. The weight of unseen eyes had prickled her neck since dusk—Shakuni's spies, no doubt, slithering through the village like snakes in the grass.
"Let them watch." Radha resumed her grinding, knuckles whitening around the pestle as Ishani stood up to check if the spices on the pot were boiled. "A mother's home is her fortress."
But the lines around her mouth betrayed her fear.
Ishani placed a hand on her shoulder, gently fanning Radha as beads of sweat trickled down the harsh wrinkles on her forehead. "Nothing will happen to anyone as long as I am alive. They want me, but they shall pay a price. I shall not allow an innocent family to be harmed. They may try all they want, but they shall never succeed in touching those who are protected by the Divine."
Her eyes hardened as she observed Radha's shaking hands. This simple and sweet woman didn't deserve to live in fear every second. Her veins burned with fury as she glanced at the rustle from the see through window. How dare that bastard dare to even try to coerce her into the palace and expect her to an obedient little doll? She breathed deeply, her rage simmering beneath the calm exterior of her eyes.
"Ishani..I once believed what you believe. But if there were a God who loved all of us equally, we wouldn't be living in fear of being just. If He chose to be merciful, he wouldn't create a world where a human is doomed to be exploited by their caste and remain silent because there is nothing else that could be done. If He existed, He wouldn't be heartless to make me watch my husband die helplessly.." Radha burst into tears as Ishani immediately grasped her, holding her as she crumbled in grief.
"Mata.." Karna whispered, the marks under his eyes hardening. He always wondered how people spoke about justice while treating others as scum beneath their feet.
He believed in God. Of course he did. And surely his stupid self must have committed some sin to be condemned to a life like this by the supreme Gods. They weren't sadistic, were they? But nothing good ever came out of his life for him not to feel the opposite.
