A few hours after the royal meeting ended, Karna walked toward the vast royal stables of Hastinapura.
The afternoon sun hung high above the palace walls, casting long golden beams across rows of magnificent horses, polished chariots and armoured cavalry units. The air smelled of hay, leather straps, horse sweat and fresh river wind drifting from the distant Ganga. Stable workers immediately stopped their tasks and bowed deeply the moment Karna entered.
Even here, whispers followed him.
The king who defeated Balarama.
The ruler who flew through the skies.
The man who rode a divine chariot gifted by the gods.
Karna ignored the attention calmly and walked toward the radiant golden chariot resting separately beneath a silk canopy. The seven divine horses immediately neighed softly the moment they sensed his presence. Their bodies shimmered faintly beneath sunlight while their golden harnesses reflected brilliant light across the stable floor.
Karna gently placed his hand upon the lead horse's forehead.
"You have another journey," he said quietly.
The horse nudged his shoulder lightly, as though understanding. Karna then opened a small golden compartment within the chariot and carefully placed a sealed royal letter inside. After securing it properly, he whispered a mantra softly beneath his breath.
The divine chariot glowed faintly. A warm gust of wind suddenly circled the stable. Several workers stepped back nervously. Without needing a charioteer or a rider, the divine horses slowly turned toward the western road leading to Kashi.
Karna watched silently as the chariot departed on its own. For a brief moment something inside his chest felt strangely uneasy. But before the feeling could deepen, he pushed it aside.
Meanwhile, inside another secluded chamber of the palace, Duryodhana and Shakuni sat alone together. The chamber remained dim despite daylight outside. Dice pieces lay scattered carelessly across the table between them while a single oil lamp flickered near the corner wall.
Duryodhana remained unusually thoughtful today. He slowly poured water into a bronze cup before finally speaking.
"Uncle…"
Shakuni looked toward him lazily.
"Hm?"
Duryodhana's voice lowered.
"The more I speak with Karna… the more I admire him."
Shakuni's fingers paused slightly above the dice. Duryodhana continued quietly.
"He speaks harshly sometimes. Too directly. But…" He frowned faintly. "…there is honesty in him." He slowly leaned back afterward. "And sometimes… I wonder whether we truly should continue the Varanavata plan."
Shakuni's eyes immediately sharpened. Duryodhana continued before his uncle interrupted.
"Karna's path…" he murmured thoughtfully. "Perhaps he is right. If I truly build my own strength honestly… if I govern well… if I win people through merit…" His voice deepened slightly. "…then maybe one day even the throne will come to me naturally."
For several moments Shakuni remained silent. Then suddenly he laughed softly—a dry, knowing laugh.
"My dear nephew…" He leaned forward slowly. "You are being influenced."
Duryodhana frowned slightly. Shakuni calmly picked up one dice piece and rolled it lazily between his fingers.
"Karna is impressive, yes. Strong, wise, righteous… all true." His smile slowly thinned. "But do not mistake words for reality."
Duryodhana quietly listened. Shakuni's eyes narrowed slightly.
"He says he sees no kinship before dharma, but he often does things otherwise." A faint scoff escaped him. "In reality, have you ever seen him raise his hand against his own people? He fought Kamsa before marrying the Mathura princess. He fought Balarama before marrying the Dvarika princess. He defeated Jarasandha long before becoming his son-in-law."
The Gandhara king slowly smiled afterward.
"Relations change people, my nephew." He tapped the dice against the table softly. "Once Karna marries our Dushala…" His eyes gleamed faintly. "…things will be different."
Duryodhana's expression slowly shifted. Shakuni leaned closer.
"A man may call himself detached all he wishes, but the tighter emotional bonds become… the stronger the invisible chains around his heart. And whether Karna realises it or not… those chains already exist."
Duryodhana slowly nodded. The uncertainty in his eyes weakened little by little. Shakuni saw that and inwardly relaxed.
Good.
For now… the prince remained manageable.
Far away in Kashi, the divine golden chariot finally descended near the palace complex during sunset. The sky burned orange and crimson above the sacred city while thousands of temple bells echoed faintly through the evening air. Priests walked toward the ghats carrying lamps for evening prayers while smoke from incense and yajnas drifted upward into the darkening heavens.
Inside the palace balcony, Mrinalini had been waiting restlessly for days. The moment servants shouted about the divine chariot's arrival, she immediately rose from her seat and hurried toward the balcony, her silk garments rustling softly behind her.
For a brief second, hope flashed across her eyes. But when she saw the empty chariot below, that hope immediately dimmed. Mrinalini descended quickly afterward. The moment she reached the courtyard, the compartment of the chariot opened by itself and revealed Karna's sealed letter.
She took it silently. The evening wind moved gently across her face as she broke the seal and began reading.
The letter read:
"Dear Mrinalini,
Unexpected developments have occurred in Hastinapura regarding a large trade and political agreement between Kuru and Dakshina Kalinga. The negotiations are extensive and require my presence.
Therefore, I will remain here temporarily.
You may return safely to Kanipura through the divine chariot and inform the queens, ministers and Rajguru regarding the matter.
Until my return, I formally appoint you as acting regent ruler of Dakshina Kalinga.
Treasury affairs involving Syamantakamani shall continue under previously established arrangements. Bhairava and the council will assist you.
Take care of our children.
And take care of yourself as well.
— Karna"
Mrinalini slowly lowered the letter. The courtyard lamps flickered softly around her while distant temple bells echoed across Kashi. Yet her expression only darkened gradually. Her fingers tightened around the letter.
"I don't feel good about this…" she murmured quietly.
The uneasy feeling inside her chest refused to settle—as though somewhere far away, something dangerous had already begun moving.
Several days passed afterward.
Within Hastinapura, negotiations continued almost every day.
One day the discussions revolved around spice caravans from southern ports. Another day involved luxury goods, silk distribution, gemstone tariffs and dock privileges.
Another meeting focused entirely upon military contracts, armour standards, arrow production quotas and iron transportation routes.
Karna personally reviewed every matter carefully.
Unlike many kings who left commerce entirely to ministers, Karna listened to merchants, accountants, blacksmiths and caravan leaders directly. He questioned details patiently, corrected unrealistic expectations, and often surprised even veteran ministers with his understanding of logistics.
And today he stood beside Duryodhana near the banks of the sacred Ganga itself. Cool river wind moved across the grassy plains while birds circled above the flowing waters. Soldiers and royal surveyors stood nearby with maps and boundary markers spread across wooden tables.
Before them stretched the land promised as the autonomous enclave—fertile, strategic and valuable. Across the distant horizon lay the southern territories of Panchala.
Duryodhana folded his arms while observing the river.
"This region was chosen carefully," he said. "Rich soil, stable river access, trade routes nearby, and enough distance from the core Kuru provinces to avoid administrative conflict."
Karna silently examined the terrain. The Ganga shimmered beautifully beneath afternoon sunlight while merchant boats moved steadily across the waters. After some moments Karna spoke.
"This place can become an important trading junction."
Duryodhana nodded.
"That was the intention."
Karna crouched slightly and picked up a handful of soil—dark, moist, fertile.
"Good land," he murmured. Then his gaze shifted southward. "And close enough to Southern Panchala."
Duryodhana's expression changed slightly at the mention of Panchala.
"Karna…" he said carefully, "you truly intend to trade with Drupada after everything?"
Karna calmly stood back up.
"Why not?"
Duryodhana frowned.
"He still resents many kingdoms after his humiliation."
Karna looked toward the flowing river quietly.
"A wounded king either destroys himself through pride… or rebuilds himself stronger through hardship. From what I hear, Drupada chose the second path." The river wind moved softly through his hair. Karna continued. "If Southern Panchala stabilises economically, the entire surrounding region benefits. Merchants travel more safely. Farmers sell more crops. River routes become active. Prosperity spreads."
He then glanced toward Duryodhana.
"A wise ruler does not ask only, 'Who is my ally?' He also asks… 'What future does this land need?'"
Duryodhana slowly looked toward the fertile riverbanks afterward. And for a brief moment he genuinely tried imagining the kingdom Karna envisioned.