Durgaavati was alive with celebration.
The young princes were finally returning home after completing their twelve years of disciplined training under their guru.
That day, Advitiya had reached the hermitage ahead of everyone else with the rare Swarnapatri herb. Seeing him, Guru Soutrik had smiled with pride.
"I knew you would succeed, Advitiya."
But not everyone was pleased.
Swarnendu burned with jealousy. He had tried to earn the Guru's favor by accompanying him into the forest, yet he had never imagined that Advitiya would find the herb first and return before them all.
---
After twelve long years,
Advitiya, Swarnendu, and Riddhim finally returned to their homeland.
Queen Mother Dhriti welcomed them into the royal palace with ceremonial grace.
The princes bowed and touched her feet.
Placing a loving kiss on their foreheads, she blessed them,
"Become the greatest warriors of Durgaavati. Grow stronger… and live long."
After years of separation, Advitiya embraced his mother tightly.
Rijuma held her son close, her voice trembling with emotion.
"I've waited so long to see you…"
"How are you?" Advitiya asked softly.
Rijuma smiled faintly.
"How does a mother live without her child?"
Dhriti interrupted calmly,
"Separation may not feel sweet now… but when your son rules the world, your pride will rise like a mountain."
Advitiya then stepped forward and embraced his father, King Shekharendu, who looked at him with deep satisfaction.
Nearby, Raktima gazed at her sons in wonder.
"Look at them… they've changed so much."
Amalendu nodded.
"Yes… twelve years have turned them into men."
Dhriti finally said,
"Enough for now. Go and rest. Prepare the chambers for the princes."
The young men withdrew.
---
Once they left, Dhriti turned to Shekharendu.
"My son…"
"Yes, Mother."
"It is time to bind them in marriage."
Amalendu agreed,
"Yes, Mother. It must be done."
Dhriti continued,
"Advitiya is the eldest of the Lion lineage. His marriage must come first."
Shekharendu bowed his head slightly.
"As you wish."
"Tomorrow, we will perform a sacred ritual," Dhriti said.
"Amalendu, speak to the royal priest."
---
Meanwhile, in Sumetra…
Princess Swapnili had come of age.
Her mother Bhargavi and King Maarg were both concerned about her marriage. But Swapnili herself was lost in thoughts of her dream prince.
Since that day at the lake…
that voice…
that presence…
had never left her mind.
---
"Swapnili, did you call me?"
Dhananjayi entered the bathing chamber as she spoke.
Swapnili's maids were applying turmeric and sandalwood paste to her skin.
"Yes," Swapnili said, rising from the water.
"I wanted to tell you something."
Dhananjayi nodded.
"What is it?"
Swapnili dismissed the maids, and once they were alone, she told her everything—the mysterious stranger she had encountered near the lake.
After listening carefully, Dhananjayi asked,
"Did you see his face?"
Swapnili shook her head.
"No…"
"Then how will you find him?" Dhananjayi said.
"No name, no identity… nothing."
Swapnili sighed dreamily.
"If only I could find him by his voice…"
Dhananjayi thought for a moment, then said,
"There might be a way."
Swapnili's eyes lit up.
"What way?"
"In Amrakut, there is a temple of Radha-Ballabh. They say… whatever you truly seek, you can find there."
"Really?"
"Yes. Lost things, lost relationships… everything has been found there."
Swapnili smiled brightly.
"Then we'll go tomorrow!"
Dhananjayi nodded.
"We'll offer prayers… and you can speak your heart."
---
The next morning, before sunrise…
After finishing her training and bathing in the river, Dhananjayi prepared to leave.
Basumati entered the room and asked,
"Where are you going?"
"To Amrakut. With Swapnili."
"For what purpose?"
Dhananjayi avoided the truth.
"Just like that. Can't I take my sister with me?"
Basumati sighed.
"They don't consider you their sister."
Dhananjayi replied firmly,
"Swapnili does. And one day… I will prove that I am worthy of being my father's true heir."
With that, she left.
Basumati watched her go, whispering softly,
"Your father will never accept you…"
She remembered everything—the insults, the exile, the day she lost her place in the palace.
Even now, every year, she prayed at the Radha-Ballabh temple for her husband's long life.
Yet… he had never returned to her.
Dhananjayi carried that pain within her.
Sometimes, she blamed herself—
Why was I not born a son?
---
Swapnili's palanquin moved toward the temple of Radha-Ballabh in Amrakut.
Ahead of it rode Dhananjayi, dressed as a warrior, guarding her sister.
---
At the same time…
In Durgaavati, the sacred ritual had begun.
Advitiya, Riddhim, and Swarnendu offered oblations into the holy fire under the priest's guidance.
After the ritual ended, Dhriti announced,
"We will now take the sacred vessel to the temple of Radha-Ballabh."
According to tradition, the royal bride must later carry this vessel to the temple and establish it there.
After marriage, the newly wedded bride would worship it and then enter the palace.
---
Soon, the royal procession of Durgaavati set out for Amrakut.
Advitiya and Riddhim rode ahead.
As they moved along the riverside, another group approached from the opposite direction.
Suddenly—
Advitiya raised his hand.
"Riddhim… be quiet."
He listened carefully.
"Someone is coming."
They quickly hid themselves and observed from a distance.
A palanquin was approaching.
Riddhim frowned.
"Who are they?"
Advitiya narrowed his eyes.
"The flag… belongs to Sumetra."
Riddhim's expression hardened.
"Our enemy."
Advitiya's voice turned cold.
"King Maarg's men…"
Riddhim added,
"They attacked our allied kingdom once."
Advitiya looked at the palanquin.
"It must be a princess."
"Perhaps they're heading to the same temple," Riddhim said.
For a moment, silence fell.
Then—
a dangerous smile appeared on Advitiya's face.
"Let's cover our faces."
Riddhim looked at him, confused.
"Why?"
Advitiya's eyes gleamed with mischief.
"We attack them."
"What if we get caught?"
"We won't."
He tightened his grip on his weapon.
"It's time they learned a lesson."
---
To be continued… ✨