For the first time since the conversation began, genuine shock appeared upon Duryodhana's face. His breathing slowed. His fingers tightened slightly. Because nobody—nobody—had ever spoken his heart aloud so clearly before. Not even Shakuni himself.
Most people only saw his ambition, only saw his jealousy, only saw his hunger for the throne. But Karna had seen the exhaustion beneath it, the loneliness beneath it, the pressure crushing him from all sides.
Karna spoke again, his tone neither harsh nor sympathetic, but calm and understanding.
"You must feel as though you are fighting five people… I think everyone in the court inside your own head every single day."
Duryodhana's face stiffened completely.
For a moment he could not even speak.
His throat tightened unexpectedly. Memories flashed through his mind one after another—Bhima mocking him, the people praising Yudhisthira, Bhishma's disappointment, Vidura's silent judgments, his father's weakness, his brothers' dependence, Shakuni's whispers… the burden of carrying expectations while constantly being compared. All of it suddenly felt exposed.
Even Shakuni looked surprised now. Because although he stayed beside Duryodhana, even he had never truly understood the prince's emotional exhaustion this deeply.
A long silence followed afterward. Then unexpectedly Karna smiled faintly—not mockingly, but almost like an elder brother.
"Do you wish to hear my honest suggestion?" he asked.
Duryodhana immediately looked up. This time there was no pride in his eyes—only seriousness.
"Please speak," he said quietly.
Karna nodded once.
"The Kuru kingdom is vast." He slowly began walking toward the large map spread across the chamber table. "There are many prosperous provinces rich in resources, especially agriculture." His finger moved across the drawn rivers and fertile regions. "Convince Maharaj Dhritarashtra to appoint you as governor over one such region."
The suggestion visibly surprised both uncle and nephew. Karna continued before they could interrupt.
"No matter what others say, farmers are the true backbone of a kingdom." His voice became firmer now. "Armies protect borders. Priests preserve rituals. Merchants circulate wealth. But farmers… farmers feed everyone. The moment fields stop producing grain, even the greatest kingdom begins starving from within."
Duryodhana listened silently. And strangely, the idea tempted him.
Karna continued calmly.
"There, away from constant court politics, you would gain freedom to implement your own vision—build roads, improve irrigation, protect villages, reduce corruption, strengthen local trade, win the loyalty of the people directly." His eyes sharpened afterward. "And then prove before your father and the entire court that you are capable of ruling."
Duryodhana's breathing became heavier. Because for the first time in many months, someone had suggested a path other than endless rivalry—a path where he could build something himself.
But before that thought could grow further, Shakuni immediately stepped in.
"Maharaj," he said smoothly, though faint irritation had entered his voice now, "what is the benefit of all this?" He limped slowly closer, leaning lightly upon his staff. "If my nephew leaves Hastinapura, his influence in court weakens." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Meanwhile Yudhisthira's path toward the throne becomes even easier." Then he smiled thinly. "Do you truly wish to remove my nephew from Yudhisthira's path?"
Karna slowly turned toward him. His expression remained calm, but his eyes had become colder now.
"You inherited Gandhara's throne directly from your father, Gandhara Naresh," Karna said evenly. Shakuni stiffened faintly. "You never had to struggle for it. That is why such a path does not occur naturally to you."
Shakuni's smile faded slightly.
Karna continued calmly.
"While I gained my kingdom as an offering as well, I still know what it means to work for the support of the people." The air inside the chamber seemed heavier now. "Do remember this clearly. The army may protect your borders. Royal blood may place you inside a palace. But only the love of the common people gives lasting glory to a king."
Duryodhana stared silently.
Karna's voice deepened further.
"The clothes you wear. The food you eat. The roads beneath your chariot. The taxes filling your treasury. All of it exists because of ordinary people." Then, after a brief pause, he added quietly, "A wise ruler never distances himself from them. Ponder carefully on what I have said to you and decide whether to follow it or not. In the end, your actions decide your karma."
The chamber fell silent once more. Even Shakuni did not immediately reply. Because deep inside, even he knew Karna's words carried dangerous truth.
After a while Karna exhaled softly.
"Anyway," he said calmly, "I should return now." He looked toward Duryodhana again. "Please speak with Maharaj Dritarashtra and arrange the feast soon so that I may leave within the next couple of days."
Then, without waiting for further discussion, Karna turned and walked toward the exit. The sound of his footsteps echoed steadily across the marble floor. Neither Duryodhana nor Shakuni stopped him.
Only after Karna completely disappeared beyond the doorway did silence finally break again.
Duryodhana remained standing motionless, deep in thought. Shakuni studied him carefully.
"My nephew," he said slowly, "what are you thinking?"
Duryodhana remained silent for several moments. Then finally he spoke quietly.
"Karna has a point, Uncle. I never thought about such a path before."
The Gandhara prince immediately felt irritation rise within him. He stepped closer.
"My nephew," he said carefully, "why think about this now?" His tone hardened subtly. "The plan regarding the Pandavas is already in motion. Once they are gone, the throne becomes yours anyway." Then he waved his hand dismissively. "Do not let Karna's words confuse you."
But Duryodhana frowned slightly.
"But Uncle…"
Shakuni immediately turned away before the prince could continue further. His limp echoed softly against the floor while his thoughts rapidly churned inside his head.
This Karna is dangerous.
Far more dangerous than I expected.
I thought he was merely difficult to manipulate compared to Yudhisthira but no… he influences others simply by speaking honestly.
That kind of man can change hearts.
Even Duryodhana's mind had already begun wavering slightly after one conversation.
Shakuni's fingers tightened around his staff.
No.
This alliance may become troublesome later.
Very troublesome.
But not now.
Not until the Pandavas are removed permanently from Duryodhana's path.
Only then… only then would he decide what should truly be done about Karna.
***
That day slowly faded into evening beneath the golden skies of Hastinapura.
The palace corridors remained unusually lively. Servants hurried from one hall to another carrying trays of flowers, lamps, incense burners, silk cloth, and polished golden utensils for the grand royal feast announced by Maharaj Dhritarashtra. The atmosphere looked festive on the surface, yet beneath that celebration flowed another current entirely—quiet and tense, like a river moving beneath frozen earth.
The news of the Varanavata journey had already spread throughout the palace. Some spoke of it as a royal duty. Some called it an honour. Others whispered uneasily in corners.
Meanwhile, within his guest chambers, Karna remained thoughtful.
The visions he had seen still lingered faintly in his mind—fire, smoke, a palace burning beneath a dark sky, screams. Every time he tried to meditate deeply upon it, the vision became distorted and disappeared before revealing the full truth, as though fate itself was preventing him from seeing beyond a certain point. And that uncertainty bothered him more than the vision itself.
The next morning before sunrise, Karna stood upon the quiet shores of the sacred Ganga.
The dawn sky still carried shades of deep blue and silver while the first faint golden light slowly emerged beyond the eastern horizon. Priests nearby softly chanted morning mantras while birds slowly awakened among the trees lining the river.
Karna stood barefoot within the shallow water, his palms joined together. With calm focus, he performed Surya Arghya. Water slowly poured from his joined palms toward the rising sun while the Gayatri Mantra flowed steadily from his lips.
Everything around him felt peaceful.
Yet even amidst that peace, his senses detected someone approaching long before footsteps reached him. Karna did not immediately turn. He completed the final mantra first. Only afterward did he slowly open his eyes and step back toward the shore.
There stood Kunti.
A soft morning breeze moved her white garments gently while emotion quietly lingered inside her eyes the moment she looked upon him. For a brief moment neither spoke. Then Karna calmly folded his palms.
"Queen Kunti."