Rhea had spent the last two days in a daze.

The palace halls still felt the same—the same polished marble floors, the same golden tapestries, the same air thick with the weight of power games.

And yet, everything had changed.

The Pandavas were gone.

And so was any illusion that she could have stopped it.

She had fought against it—struggled, begged, warned.

And in the end, she had lost.

She had thought she would feel anger. Grief. Guilt.

But all she felt was emptiness.

Until she heard the whisper.

It came from a pair of servants passing through the gardens, their voices hushed but urgent.

"...I'm telling you, something is wrong."

Rhea had barely been paying attention, her mind too weighed down with exhaustion. But something in their tone made her listen.

"What do you mean?"

The other lowered their voice even more. "The fire. The bodies."

Rhea's breath stilled.

Bodies.

"Only ashes were left," the first servant said.

The second hesitated. "Then why weren't they found?"

Silence.

Rhea's hands clenched around the edge of the stone bench.

She rose slowly, slipping into the shadows before they could see her.

Her heart was pounding now, the dull weight in her chest replaced with something sharp.

Hope.

Because she knew what that whisper meant.

The Pandavas were supposed to be dead.

But there were no bodies.

Rhea spent the rest of the day watching.

And she wasn't the only one.

Vidura was moving through the halls too carefully, too controlled. His expression gave nothing away, but his steps were deliberate. He was waiting for something.

Bhishma looked weary, his posture more rigid than usual. As if the weight on his shoulders had doubled overnight.

And Karna—

Karna was avoiding her.

She saw him across the courtyard, his usual air of quiet confidence strangely absent.

For the first time, he looked unsure.

That was all the confirmation she needed.

The Pandavas weren't dead.

She couldn't breathe.

The walls of her chambers felt too small, too tight.

She pressed her hands to the cool stone, trying to calm the storm inside her.

If the Pandavas had survived, what would happen next?

Would they stay in hiding? Would they come back?

Would they seek revenge?

A part of her wanted to feel relief.

But another part—the part that had spent years surviving in this palace—knew this was only the beginning.

Because the Kauravas believed their enemies were gone.

But the dead do not stay dead.

And when the truth came out, Hastinapura would burn for it.