Love Across Time

Eighty Two

-𝓦𝓱𝓲𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓓𝓸𝓸𝓶-

The morning sun, a hesitant visitor, peeked through the palace curtains, casting a long, golden finger across Aanya's face. Sleep had finally visited, a brief respite from the churning anxieties that roiled within her. Yet, beneath the surface, a quiet strength simmered, a resolve born of the revelation that had settled upon her heart like a heavy stone.

She stole a glance at Arjun, nestled peacefully beside her. His brow, however, remained furrowed, etched with lines that spoke volumes about his own troubled dreams. The weight of the recent Rajasuya Yagna and the uncertain future loomed large on her.

A soft rapping at the door shattered the fragile peace. Arjun's eyes snapped open, alertness replacing the tranquility of sleep in an instant. He rose on one elbow, his gaze flitting between Aanya and the source of the sound.

"Come in," Aanya called out, her voice betraying none of the turmoil within.

The door creaked open, revealing a palace attendant, her face etched with a hint of urgency. "Maharaj Yudhisthira requests your presence in the royal hall," the attendant announced. "Mahamantri Vidura has arrived from Hastinapura."

A jolt of electricity crackled through Aanya. Vidura's arrival was a premonition, a portent of the storm brewing on the horizon. They were hurtling towards a future painted in shades of violence and injustice, a future she desperately hoped to avoid.

Her hand instinctively reached out, seeking solace in Arjun's. "I will be there shortly," he responded, his voice firm yet laced with a quiet apprehension. He turned to Aanya, his eyes searching hers. "Kakashri?" he whispered, "Why do you think he has come?"

Aanya met his gaze, hers filled with a well of worry. Words seemed to elude her at that moment. The weight of the unspoken hung heavy in the air, a secret shared only by the beating of their hearts.

Rising from the bed, Aanya began to dress, her movements mechanical. As she made her way towards the hall, a heavy silence cloaked her. She found solace by Draupadi's side, seeking silent support from her. Draupadi cast a concerned glance at Aanya, her brow furrowing in worry. "Are you alright?" she murmured, her voice laced with concern.

Aanya could only offer a tight nod in response, her gaze fixed on the imposing figure of Vidura at the head of the hall. The air crackled with anticipation, a premonition of the coming storm. As Vidura began to speak, his words hung heavy in the air, each syllable a portent of the impending disaster.

The air in the grand hall hung thick with a tension as heavy as Yudhishthira's crown. Vidura, his wise face etched with worry, stood before the Pandava brothers. Aanya, her fingers twisting the edge of her saree, felt a premonition grip her heart like a vice.

"Samrat," Vidura began, his voice a low rumble, "I bear an invitation from Hastinapura. Maharaj Dhritarashtra invites you and your brothers for a friendly game of dice."

Aanya's stomach clenched. She knew the truth behind this so-called "friendly" game. It was a trap, a web spun by Shakuni, and fueled by Duryodhana's insatiable thirst for revenge.

"However," Vidura continued, his gaze locking with Yudhishthira's, "I fear this invitation masks a darker purpose. I suspect the hand of Gandhar Naresh in this, a ploy to orchestrate your humiliation."