The grand hall of Dwarka was filled with the fragrance of jasmine, sandalwood, and incense, as the air buzzed with preparations for the wedding of Subhadra, sister of Krishna and Balarama, to Duryodhana. The Kauravas, their allies, the Pandavas, and the Yadavas had gathered in the opulent palace to witness this momentous event. The sound of flutes and drums echoed in the air, but beneath the music, an undercurrent of tension ran like a silent river, threatening to break the surface.
Among the crowd, Karna and Purnima—the princess of Sindhu and Avanti—had arrived, their regal attire standing out against the colorful backdrop. Purnima stood by her husband's side, aware of the undercurrents running through the assembly. Karna's posture was dignified, though his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. Draupadi, the beautiful and intelligent queen of the Pandavas, stood with her husbands. Her gaze was more focused on the events unfolding than on the conversations around her.
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The wedding was poised to begin, but a quiet tension gripped the air. Duryodhana, ever proud and certain of his claim to Subhadra, stood near the ceremonial fire, eagerly awaiting the start of the marriage.
Subhadra, however, seemed far from content. Her eyes often wandered to the distance, towards the presence of Krishna, the man who had guided her decision in secret.The weight of her duty pressed upon her chest, but her heart longed for something far beyond what tradition and politics demanded of her. She glanced toward the entrance of the hall, her eyes searching the crowd, and there, standing tall and noble as always, was Arjuna—her heart's true companion.
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For years, Subhadra had known the path that fate had set before her. She had been promised to Duryodhana—an alliance between the powerful Kaurava prince and her brother Balarama. But as time passed, her heart had always beaten for one man: Arjuna. His strength, his wisdom, and his unwavering love had captured her from the moment they first met. She had never truly accepted this marriage to Duryodhana. It was a bond of power, not love.
Across the room, Duryodhana stood confidently, his chest puffed out with pride, certain of his victory. To him, this marriage was more than an alliance; it was a symbol of his power over the Pandavas. The throne of Hastinapura, his seat of ambition, would be secured by this union. Yet, as he looked at Subhadra, he did not see the woman she truly was—he saw only a prize to be won.
