Little Subhadra sat alone in the guest chamber, her little feet swinging off the edge of the ornate couch. The celebrations outside continued in full force, yet she felt strangely detached from all of it. Her brothers, occupied with Panchal’s royal court, and she was left to her own devices. Normally, she would have explored the palace, poking her nose into places she was probably not supposed to be in—but today, she simply didn’t feel like it.

Instead, she stared at her hands, lost in thought.

"The handsome Brahmin... he is actually the Madhya Pandava?"

She had heard the name Arjun before, of course. The Pandavas were her long-passed cousins—or so she had believed. The last she had heard, they and their mother, Devi Kunti, had perished in a great fire at Varnavrat.

But now, not only were they alive, but one of them was also the very man who had won Draupadi’s hand.

"And Rajkumari Draupadi... she is to marry all five of them?"

The thought unsettled her.

It was not because she did not respect the Pandavas—she had never met them before, after all. But she could not help but think of Draupadi.

To be a wife to five husbands... did she truly wish for that?

Subhadra had seen Draupadi from afar, and she had no doubt that the princess was strong. There was something regal in her every step, something divine in the way she carried herself. She was, in every way, a goddess in her own right.

But even the strongest of goddesses could still have a heart, couldn’t they?

Did it not ache?

"It is not my place to wonder such things," Subhadra scolded herself silently. "It is her life, not mine."

She forced the thoughts away. It was improper to pity someone who had not asked for pity.

And yet—she could not quite shake the feeling that settled in her chest.

A strange sadness that she did not quite understand.

*****

The wedding of Princess Draupadi and the Pandavas was a sight to behold.

The grand hall of the Panchal palace was transformed into a celestial garden, adorned with golden pillars wrapped in garlands of marigolds and jasmine. The air was thick with the scent of incense, the soft hum of Vedic chants filling the space. It felt as though the heavens themselves had descended to witness the sacred union.

Subhadra sat beside Krishna and Balarama, her small frame nearly lost in the sea of royal guests. She watched intently as Draupadi, dressed in a resplendent red saree, stepped forward, her every movement an embodiment of grace.

"She truly looks like a goddess," Subhadra thought.

The Pandavas stood tall and majestic, each of them exuding a presence that demanded respect. Yudhishthira, the eldest, had the calm dignity of a true king. Bhima, the second, was broad-shouldered and powerful, his every step filled with strength. Nakul and Sahadev the strong bonded twins their steps filled with wisdom and a hint of playfulness.

Then there was Arjun.

Subhadra’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than the rest.

He was unlike his brothers, Arjun carried a different kind of power—one that was both sharp and effortless. His eyes held the focus of a warrior, yet when he looked at Draupadi, there was something else there.

Something softer.

Something... tender.

Subhadra’s fingers curled into her lap.

"Why does that make me sad?"

It made no sense.

She did not know Arjun. She had met him once, only for a fleeting moment. She had no right to feel anything about him.

And yet, that same ache from before returned, lingering in the depths of her heart.

She forced herself to watch as Draupadi took her vows with each of the five brothers, accepting them as her husbands. She listened as the priests recited the sacred mantras, their voices steady and unwavering.

Everything was perfect.

And yet...

Something inside her still felt empty.

*****

That night, when the wedding celebrations had ended, little Subhadra sat outside on one of the Panchal palace balconies, staring up at the night sky.

She heard soft footsteps behind her, and she did not need to turn to know who it was.

"You are quiet tonight, ruchi," Krishna’s voice was gentle.

She hummed, resting her chin on her knees. "I was just thinking, Kanha Bhaiya."

Krishna sat beside her, his gaze fixed on the stars. "And what is my little sister thinking about?"

Subhadra hesitated.

"Do you think Rajkumari Draupadi is happy?" she finally asked.

Krishna smiled, but it was a knowing smile—one that told her he understood far more than he let on. "Happiness is a difficult thing to measure, ruchi. Sometimes, even those who seem to have everything carry burdens that no one else can see."

Little Subhadra frowned. "That is a very complicated answer."

Krishna chuckled. "It is a very complicated world."

She turned to face him. "Do you think she loves them?"

Krishna tilted his head. "Perhaps. Love comes in many forms, little one. Some love grows over time, while others burn bright from the start. What matters is not how it begins, but how it endures."

Subhadra absorbed his words carefully. She was only a child, and she did not understand everything, but she understood enough to know that Krishna was not just speaking about Draupadi.

He was speaking about life.

And perhaps... about her, too.

She let out a small sigh, hugging her knees. "I hope she is happy."

Krishna ruffled her hair, a rare show of affection. "You have a kind heart, Bhadre. Never lose it."

She nodded, though she still felt uncertain.

As Krishna stood to leave, he glanced at her one last time. "Come inside soon. It is late, and dau will scold us both if you fall ill."

Subhadra managed a small smile. "I will...."

Krishna walked away, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She gazed up at the moonlit sky, watching the stars flicker above her.

"Why do I feel like something has changed?"

The feeling was small, almost unnoticeable. But it was there.

Something had shifted inside her.

She just didn’t know what it was yet.

To Be Continued...