Krishnapriya Devashree

50. Dwaravati's Might

"Ah, the revered queen of Dwarka, come to witness the destruction of her precious city,"

Shishupal taunted, his voice loud enough to carry over the crackling of the fire. "It seems you manage without your beloved Chaliya. How unfortunate he is not here to see this."

Devashree's eyes narrowed, her grip on her sword tightening, but her voice remained calm and controlled.

"Shishupal, stop this madness! Why bring destruction to innocent lives? What do you hope to gain from such cowardice?"

Shishupal sneered, stepping forward slightly.

"Cowardice? No, it is retribution. You humiliated me, rejecting my proposal in front of the courts. You chose Krishna, that cowherd, over a real king. My ego? No, it is justice. Today, I claim what should have been mine."

"You claim nothing but shame and dishonor," Devashree retorted sharply. "Attacking unarmed citizens and using forbidden magic to spread fire? You are no king, Shishupal. A king protects his people, he does not harm them for personal grievances."

The asur beside Shishupal growled, stepping forward, the air around him shimmering with heat.

"Enough talk! Let us destroy her Sishupal, and Dwarka will surrender."

Devashree stood her ground.

"Dwarka does not bow to tyrants or threats. We stand for dharma, and as long as I breathe, I will defend it."

"Look at you, standing so defiantly. Do you think you're some sort of goddess, Devashree? Even without your Krishna here to shield you?" Shishupal taunted, his voice laced with contempt.

"Where is he now, when his beloved city burns? Off playing the flute, or perhaps tangled in the arms of another, leaving you to fend for yourself.Gallivanting across the lands, attending feasts and festivals, while his city burns! What sort of king abandons his realm in its hour of need? A false one, a pretender to the throne!"

His laughter was harsh, echoing off the burning structures around them. The asur beside him joined in, their mockery a cruel symphony against the backdrop of disaster.

"Krishna is nothing more than a charlatan, a flute-playing shepherd boy masquerading as a god. And you, Devashree, are a fool for believing in him. Today, Dwarka will see the truth of his divinity - absent and impotent."

"Shishupal, your words reveal nothing but your own weakness and fear. Insulting Krishna will not provoke me into folly, nor will it gain you any honor or victory," Devashree replied coolly, her eyes steady on Shishupal.

"Look at you, Devashree, so proud and lofty. Did you really think you could play at being queen without consequence? You're out of your depth," Shishupal sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "A puppet dancing on the strings of that charlatan, Krishna. What are you without him? Just a lonely woman, playing at politics."

Devashree's expression remained impassive, her eyes never leaving Shishupal's, even as his insults grew more personal and offensive.

"A true king trusts his queen to handle the realm in his stead. And nor does a true queen falter at the likes of you, Shishupal."

Shishupal laughed harshly, his gaze scanning the devastation around them.

"You mean this? This is what happens when a kingdom is left in the hands of a woman who thinks too highly of herself. You're nothing, Devashree, without Krishna. And even he is nothing. His powers are a farce, and so is his love for you. When the city burns, he romances elsewhere.

His words were designed to wound, to incite rage or despair, but Devashree stood unyielding, her posture regal, her voice steady as she responded.

"Krishna's absence is a testament to his trust in me, and in the strength of Dwarka's people. We do not need him to be present to feel his strength, nor do we falter in the face of petty tyrants and their baseless taunts."