“After your son was made Crown Prince,” Pitamahi said, “he never bothered the Pāṇḍavas. He got what he wanted, so he didn’t care much about other things.”
Gandhārī swallowed, the ache in her throat unbearable.
“But what about Dyūta Sabha?” she cried.
“What about Draupadī’s honor?”
“Forget about Draupadī’s honor for a moment,” she said. “Let us focus on Dyūta Sabha.”
Her voice sharpened.
“Tell me—why did the fools you call *dharmatmas* force your son to go to the coronation of Yudhiṣṭhira?”
“I… I don’t understand, Pitamahi.”
“The Pāṇḍuputras did not conquer Hastinapura,” Satyavatī said, each word slicing the air.
“And truthfully—even you know your children were not their well-wishers. So why did your son go to the Rājasūya Yajña?”
“Because Kakashree Bhīṣma ordered him,” Gandhārī replied quietly.
“What kind of fool does this?” Satyavatī sneered.
“Bhīṣma knew Suyodhana was a man prone to jealousy. *Everyone* knew it. It was not a secret. It was not subtle. And despite that—Bhīṣma *sent him* to Indraprastha.”
Her voice dropped to a low, venomous murmur.
“And what was his position in that yajña?”
Gandhārī froze.
“A treasurer,” Satyavatī spat. “A bloody *treasurer.*”
Gandhārī’s throat closed.
“And do you remember the condition of Hastinapura then?” Pitamahi continued mercilessly.
“Several citizens—brainwashed by Bhīṣma and Vidura into believing Yudhiṣṭhira was the living embodiment of dharma—left the kingdom.”
Her voice grew colder.
“To a struggling kingdom, whose population was already too thin to sustain its economy…
Bhīṣma and Vidura ordered a prince—who loathed the Pāṇḍavas more than anyone—to go and celebrate their prosperity.”
“That is the Bhīṣma you revere, Gandhārī.”
“A man who feeds your child’s jealousy, fans it, sharpens it, and then acts surprised when it explodes.”
“A fine court jester you’d make.”
“You were born into the wrong caste.”
This is the trailer for the next chapter.
