"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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A lone rider, cloaked in travel-stained silks, was silhouetted against the fading light. It was Duryodhana. He looked every bit the weary traveler, a far cry from the proud prince of Hastinapur.
The guards at the gate tensed, their hands instinctively moving towards the hilts of their weapons. This was an unexpected arrival, to say the least. Duryodhana's presence was not a state visit. It was an intrusion.
Before the situation could escalate, a calm, authoritative voice echoed from within the gate. "Let him pass." It was Krishna. He emerged from the shadows, his expression unreadable in the fading light. There was no warmth in his greeting, no customary welcome for a visiting royal.
Krishna emerged, his expression unreadable. "Cousin," he greeted, his smile lacking warmth. "To what do we owe this... surprise?"
Duryodhana dismounted, approaching Krishna with a weary sigh. "Vasudev," he began, his voice strained, "I have come to apologize. To Rajkumari." He gestured weakly towards the gardens where Ishani was with Karna. "I... I know words cannot undo the past, but I must try. I was wrong. We were all wrong."
Krishna's smile vanished completely, replaced by a chillingly cold expression. "Apologies?" he echoed, his voice dangerously soft. "After all that has transpired? After the schemes woven by your uncle, Shakuni? They cost Ishani her peace and nearly her life."
He stepped closer, his gaze piercing. "Do you truly believe a few words can absolve you of that guilt, Duryodhana? That they can erase the pain and suffering you and your family inflicted upon her?"
Duryodhana flinched under Krishna's intense gaze. He knew his apology was a meager offering compared to the magnitude of his past actions, but he felt compelled to try. "I know it's not enough," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "But I had to come. I had to say something."
Krishna's eyes narrowed. "Saying something is not the same as meaning something, Duryodhana. Your actions will speak far louder than any words you utter today."
A path led from the courtyard to the fabled gardens of Dwaraka, a place of serene beauty, even in the twilight. It was there that Duryodhana saw her. Ishani was walking slowly, her steps measured and delicate, as if she carried the weight of the world. The simple fabric of her dress flowed around her like liquid moonlight, and for a moment, Duryodhana was struck by her beauty, a beauty that transcended the earthly realm. She looked like a vision, a goddess descended from the heavens. She was supported by Karna, who walked close beside her, his posture protective, possessive.
Karna was leaning in, his head bent towards hers. He held a few strands of her hair in his hand, the dark tresses contrasting sharply with his golden skin. He kissed the strands lightly, whispering something close to her ear, his voice a low, suggestive murmur. A playful smile touched his lips. Ishani rolled her eyes at his blatant flirting, a small, fond smile playing on her own lips despite her mock exasperation. She reached up and swatted his arm playfully, her movements light and teasing. Karna chuckled, a warm, rich sound that filled the space between them, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
