The late afternoon sun bathed the landscape in hues of gold and amber, casting long shadows as Queen Draupadi prepared for her journey. She stood at the grand entrance of the palace, adorned in royal silks, her regal presence softened only by the tender sight of her newborn son, Dhruvsen, resting peacefully in her arms. Beside her was Pallavi, her sister queen, who held a serene composure, her eyes mirroring the soft light of the waning day.

Indraprasth's palace stood tall behind them, its marble walls glowing in the evening light, but Draupadi's focus was on the horizon ahead, where the villages lay waiting. This wasn't just an ordinary journey; it was her first venture outside the palace with her son. The people had heard rumors of the boy born to the queen-future king and warrior-and today, they would see him.

The chariot was waiting, its grandeur undeniable. Made of polished wood and gilded with gold, it gleamed under the sun's fading warmth. Intricate designs of lions and lotuses decorated its sides, symbols of strength and purity, much like Draupadi herself. Two towering white horses, their coats shimmering like pearls, were tethered to the chariot, stamping their hooves impatiently. The charioteer, a seasoned man with silver hair, stood ready, awaiting the command to depart.

Draupadi glanced at Pallavi, her eyes softening.

Draupadi :- Are you ready?

She asked, Pallavi smiled, though there was a quietness about her today.

Pallavi :- Always, sister. This will be a day to remember.

With that, they stepped into the chariot, settling onto the plush cushions, Draupadi cradling Dhruvsen while Pallavi sat beside her, her gaze lingering on the palace they were leaving behind. The charioteer clicked his tongue, and the horses surged forward, their hooves stirring up a trail of dust as they made their way through the gates of Indraprasth.

The road ahead was a narrow, winding path, flanked by tall trees that swayed gently in the evening breeze. As they passed through the countryside, Draupadi felt a deep sense of peace wash over her. It was a serene evening, the air cool and fragrant with the scent of jasmine and wildflowers. The sound of the chariot's wheels rolling over the dirt path was rhythmic, almost lulling.

Her mind was at peace, but there was a fire within her, one not of conflict, but of a deep responsibility to her people. This tour was not merely a ceremonial visit to the nearby villages. It was her way of connecting with her subjects, of ensuring that they felt the embrace of their queen in the same way her newborn felt the warmth of her arms.

Pallavi, sitting by her side, glanced at her sister.

Pallavi :- You are always restless when it comes to the people. You could have sent word instead of traveling with a child so young.

She said, her voice carrying a soft humor. Draupadi smiled without looking at her.

Draupadi :- A queen must walk the paths her people tread. It is not enough to rule from a palace.

She adjusted Dhruvsen in her arms, her voice lowering to a murmur.

Draupadi :- He must know them too, even if not yet.

Pallavi nodded, understanding. Though she was the quieter of the two queens, Pallavi respected Draupadi's ways. Her sister had always carried herself with a regal grace, a fierce love for both her family and her kingdom. The birth of Dhruvsen had only deepened that love, and it was evident in every decision Draupadi made.

Before long, they approached the first village. Draupadi could see the villagers gathering at the edge of the road, anticipation written on their faces. Word had spread quickly-the queen was coming. Children ran ahead of the chariot, their laughter echoing through the fields, while women lined the streets, clutching garlands of marigolds. Men stood tall, their hands folded in respect, and the elderly gathered at the back, their eyes brimming with curiosity and pride.

The chariot slowed as Draupadi raised her hand in greeting, a soft smile playing on her lips. The villagers bowed deeply, and as the horses came to a halt, the crowd surged forward, though always keeping a respectful distance.

A woman, carrying a toddler on her hip, approached hesitantly. Her eyes were wide with wonder as she gazed at Dhruvsen, who now stirred in Draupadi's arms, his tiny fists curling and uncurling.

Lady :- He is beautiful!

She whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Lady :- May the gods bless him with strength and wisdom.

Draupadi nodded graciously, lowering her gaze to her son, her heart swelling with love.

Draupadi :- Thank you. He is our future.

She replied softly.

More villagers gathered around, each offering their blessings, their hands raised to the heavens as they murmured prayers for the baby's well-being. Some brought small gifts-tokens of their admiration-a handful of grain, a piece of cloth, a simple flower. Draupadi accepted each offering with humility, knowing that these people were giving from their hearts, even if they had little to spare.

As they continued through the village, they met all sorts of people-some joyful, some burdened by sorrow. A group of men approached, their faces drawn with worry. One of them stepped forward, his voice trembling as he spoke.

Man :- Kind Queen, we have suffered a great loss. The harvest failed this year, and we have little left to feed our families.

Draupadi's expression softened.

Draupadi :- I will ensure that the palace provides aid. You will not go hungry.

The man fell to his knees, tears in his eyes.

Man :- Thank you, my queen. You are the light in our darkest days.

As they moved forward, more villagers came with their requests and pleas, each one seeking Draupadi's counsel, her compassion. But there were also those who came simply to catch a glimpse of her son, to lay their blessings upon him. Women whispered among themselves about his bright eyes and strong frame, predicting his future as a brave warrior and just ruler. The elderly spoke of legends and kings of the past, saying they saw the same greatness in Dhruvsen's innocent face.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the land. Draupadi and Pallavi stopped at a small temple near the village, where a revered priest waited for them. His beard was long and white, his eyes gleaming with wisdom as he raised his hands in blessing over the child.

Priest :- He will grow to be a great king, one who will bring peace and prosperity to this land.

The priest said, his voice soft but filled with conviction. Draupadi bowed her head in gratitude, her heart swelling with pride.

Draupadi :- May the Gods grant him the strength and wisdom to lead his people well.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky with shades of pink and gold, it was time to return. Draupadi's thoughts drifted to the palace, where King Karn would be waiting for her. She could feel the day slipping away, the light fading, but something stirred within her-a desire, a pull towards a different direction.

She looked at the charioteer and, with a firm voice, commanded,

Draupadi :- Take the road to Hastinapur.

Pallavi, startled, turned to Draupadi, her brows furrowing in surprise.

Pallavi :- Hastinapur ? At this hour ?

Draupadi met her gaze, her expression calm but resolute.

Draupadi :- Yes. There is something I must do.

Though she was puzzled, Pallavi said nothing more. She had long learned to trust Draupadi's instincts, knowing that there was always a reason behind her decisions. As the chariot veered off the path back to Indraprasth and took the road to Hastinapur, Pallavi leaned back, glancing at her sister with a mixture of curiosity and quiet confidence.

The journey had taken an unexpected turn, and as the last rays of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon, the road ahead seemed shrouded in mystery. But Draupadi's heart remained steady, her mind set on whatever awaited them in Hastinapur.



By the time Draupadi and Pallavi reached the outskirts of Hastinapur, night had already enveloped the sky in a blanket of stars. The moon hung low, casting a silvery glow over the quiet streets as the chariot slowed its pace. Baby Dhruvsen, now sound asleep, nestled peacefully in Draupadi's arms. His soft breaths were the only sound inside the chariot. Draupadi glanced down at him, a tender smile on her face, before gently passing him to Pallavi, who cradled him with care.

The streets of Hastinapur were mostly deserted. Lamps hung on the doors of mud and stone houses, flickering gently in the cool breeze. A few villagers still lingered, finishing the final tasks of their day, but most were retreating to their homes. The air carried the scent of burning oil and freshly tilled earth, remnants of the day's labors. As Draupadi's chariot passed by, those who noticed the royal insignia stopped in their tracks, bowing deeply in respect. Draupadi, ever gracious, offered each of them a nod, acknowledging their reverence with silent dignity.

It was a strange feeling for Draupadi, being in Hastinapur at night. She had rarely visited the city in such a quiet hour, and even though it was not her kingdom, the place held a certain significance-especially tonight. Soon, the chariot reached a house, modest yet dignified, a balance of simplicity and comfort. It was neither the palace of a nobleman nor the humble hut of a villager, but something in between. This was the home of Karn's foster parents, Adhirath and Radha, the people who had raised him before he rose to greatness.

The chariot stopped, and the night seemed to deepen as Draupadi stepped down, the soft chirping of crickets filling the silence. The flickering light of an earthen lamp at the entrance threw long shadows on the ground. The stone walls were clean and well-maintained, and the wooden door was adorned with a single garland, its flowers fragrant but beginning to wilt in the night air.

Pallavi, still holding the half-asleep Dhruvsen, followed her closely. Draupadi paused for a moment, her heart swelling with a quiet anticipation. She nodded at Pallavi, who handed her back the baby. Draupadi adjusted Dhruvsen in her arms as Pallavi went ahead, her anklets making the faintest of sounds as she approached the door. With a firm but gentle hand, she knocked.

The sound echoed lightly in the stillness, followed by the faint creaking of wooden hinges. A boy, in his teens, stood at the threshold, rubbing his eyes as though his sleep had just been interrupted. His face brightened as recognition dawned-he was Shon, Karn's younger foster brother. Despite his surprise, he immediately bowed to both queens, stepping aside to let them enter.

Shon :- Pallavi Bhabi, Draupadi Bhabi! Please, come in.

He greeted warmly, his voice carrying a mix of awe and joy.

Inside, the house was humble but filled with warmth. The air smelled faintly of incense and cooking spices, a sign that the family had finished their evening meal. Adhirath and Radha, Karn's foster parents, sat near the hearth, while a girl, Shon's twin sister, Shivangi, sitting beside them. Radha was the first to rise when she saw Draupadi. Her weathered face lit up with joy as she hurried to greet them, her hands folded in a gesture of deep respect.

Shivangi :- Bhabi! What a blessing it is to have you here, in our home.

She said, her voice thick with emotion.

Draupadi smiled, stepping forward to embrace Radha, careful not to disturb the sleeping baby in her arms. There was something deeply comforting about Radha's presence, like the embrace of a mother long missed. Adhirath, though slower to rise due to his age, greeted Draupadi with the same warmth, his eyes shining with pride as he saw his foster son's wife and child.

Draupadi :- Adhirath Baba, Radha Ma.

She began softly.

Draupadi :- I couldn't think of a more important visit to make than this one.

She held Dhruvsen out slightly, presenting him to the family.

Draupadi :- I wanted you to meet your grandson.

Radha's face softened as she gazed at the infant, her eyes filling with tears of joy.

Radha :- Oh, what a beautiful boy.

She whispered, her voice trembling as she extended her hands.

Radha :- May I ?

Draupadi nodded, gently placing the child in her arms. Radha's weathered hands cradled Dhruvsen with the tenderness of a grandmother meeting her grandchild for the first time. She rocked him gently, murmuring soft words of blessings and love as Adhirath and Shivangi gathered around.

Shon, who had stood back out of respect, now stepped forward cautiously.

Shon :- Is this really Bhrata's son ?

He asked, his voice full of wonder as he looked at the child.

Pallavi :- Yes, Shon.

She said with a smile.

Pallavi :- This is Dhruvsen, the future of Indraprasth.

Shon's face glowed with excitement.

Shon :- He's so small.

He said, his voice hushed as he looked at his new nephew, barely able to contain his happiness.

The family passed the baby between them, each one cradling him in their arms with reverence, taking turns to sing soft songs or offer prayers for his future. Shivangi, though younger than her twin brother, held Dhruvsen with a natural grace, smiling down at him as though he were a precious jewel.

Draupadi watched them, her heart swelling with affection. She had come here not out of duty, but out of a deep sense of connection. These were the people who had raised Karn, the man who had given her everything. They had nurtured him when no one else had, shaping him into the warrior and king he had become. She owed them more than gratitude-she owed them her loyalty, her respect, and her love.

Radha, having finished her turn holding the baby, placed Dhruvsen back in Draupadi's arms. She reached up and gently caressed Draupadi's head, a gesture of deep affection.

Radha :- Thank you for coming, daughter. You didn't need to, but you came. We are honored.

She said softly. Draupadi looked into Radha's kind, tear-filled eyes and smiled.

Draupadi :- Being the wife of your beloved son, it is my duty to come. You raised Karn as your own. This home-this family-means everything to me.

She replied. The warmth of the moment enveloped the room, as the family continued to exchange stories, memories of Karn's childhood, and hopes for Dhruvsen's future. They laughed and shared tales of the days when Karn had been a young boy, no different from Shon now, running through the streets of Hastinapur without a care in the world, lost in his love for archery. The night, though quiet outside, was filled with the warmth of familial love and the deep bonds of shared history within the house.

Outside, the charioteer tended to the horses, brushing their coats and feeding them after their long journey. The soft sounds of the horses munching on hay mixed with the distant rustle of leaves in the gentle night breeze. The night had deepened, the sky now a vast expanse of twinkling stars. The city of Hastinapur lay quiet, save for the occasional hoot of an owl or the rustle of the wind through the trees.

Inside the home, the warmth of love and family filled every corner. Dhruvsen stirred in his sleep as Radha hummed a soft tune, while Draupadi sat back, watching her son surrounded by the love of those who had once raised his father. This was what she had hoped for-a night of peace, away from the demands of court, where the bonds of family could be strengthened, and where her son could be introduced to the people who would one day guide him in his journey.

Time passed unnoticed as they shared stories and laughter, the small flame of the earthen lamp flickering in the corner, casting gentle shadows on the walls, as if reflecting the memories and emotions that lingered in the air.



Did you like the part ?

I hope it was worth reading. I've tried more and more to reduce the AI interference which some had problems with, trying my best to write more and more by my own.

So Radha ma finally gets to meet her grandson, but what about Shatrunjay, when will he meet his family.

Next part shifts to Vikram... Or do you want to see Karn ?

Do comment if you have any suggestions.

Will see you in the next part, untill then, take care and bye.