The respectful distance in his voice quietly pierced her heart once more. Still, Kunti smiled faintly and stepped closer.
"How are you, Karna?" she asked softly. Her eyes studied his face carefully. "I heard you were blessed with two more children."
For a brief instant, warmth appeared within Karna's expression.
"It has already been six months," he replied calmly.
Kunti nodded slowly. A strange ache filled her chest hearing him speak so naturally about the family she could never openly belong to. Then after a pause she spoke again.
"We are leaving for Varanavata two days later."
Karna's gaze shifted slightly toward the flowing river.
"I have heard," he answered quietly. "Prince Duryodhana mentioned it."
Silence followed afterward. The sound of flowing water filled the gap between them. Karna's expression slowly hardened in thought. The vision returned briefly within his mind again—flames, a burning residence, dark smoke swallowing the sky. He remained silent for several moments before finally speaking.
"Queen Kunti, I cannot reveal the secrets of fate directly," he said slowly. Kunti frowned slightly in confusion. Then Karna looked directly at her. "But I warn you… stay away from fire when you are in Varnavata."
Kunti blinked.
"Fire?"
Karna gave only a small nod.
"That is all I can say."
The answer only deepened her confusion further. What kind of warning was that? Why fire specifically? Why now? But before she could question further, Karna stepped back respectfully again.
And Kunti silently realised something painful once more: even when trying to protect her, he still kept a distance between them.
Later that evening, the grand feast began inside the royal assembly halls of Hastinapura.
The palace glittered brilliantly beneath hundreds of hanging oil lamps and golden chandeliers. Long silk banners bearing the Kuru insignia flowed gently from the towering pillars while musicians played soft instrumental melodies using veenas, mridangams and flutes that echoed elegantly through the vast chamber.
Every important royal member attended—the Pandavas, the Kauravas, ministers, elders.
And among them sat Karna calmly beside the honoured guests.
As he quietly ate, he could feel several gazes resting upon him throughout the evening.
Bhima's stare remained heavy and hostile as always; the second Pandava made little effort to hide his dislike. Meanwhile, Nakula and Sahadeva remained calm and polite. Yudhisthira carried his usual composed smile. And surprisingly, Arjuna looked almost pleased seeing Karna present there.
Maharaj Dhritarashtra eventually raised his hand, signalling silence across the hall. His aged voice echoed gently through the chamber.
"My beloved nephews and Queen Kunti will soon leave for Varanavata to attend the annual festival." His tone carried genuine affection. "For three whole months this palace shall feel emptier without them."
Many nodded respectfully. Then the king turned slightly toward Karna.
"And Maharaj Karna… we remain grateful for the protection you gave our daughter Princess Dushala and for escorting her home safely."
Karna bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. The feast then continued peacefully afterward. Yet beneath all the royal politeness, Karna still felt unease quietly lingering around the palace.
After the meal ended, he stepped outside for some air.
The palace gardens had become quieter now beneath the night sky.
Moonlight spread softly across the stone pathways while cool wind rustled through the flowering trees. The smell of jasmine drifted through the air alongside the faint sound of flowing fountains nearby.
Karna walked silently through the gardens.
Then footsteps approached from behind. He did not need to turn to recognise them. Arjuna stopped beside him. For a few moments, both brothers simply walked side by side beneath the moonlight. Then Arjuna spoke first.
"I wanted to thank you again for the bow."
Karna glanced at him quietly.
"It has been extremely useful," Arjuna admitted honestly. "I have not found a better bow anywhere."
A faint smile touched Karna's lips.
"You will not find a better one easily."
Arjuna looked at him curiously.
Karna continued calmly. "And even if you do… the difference will not be great." He looked toward the moonlit sky. "The only truly superior bows are divine weapons granted through blessings."
Arjuna listened carefully now. Karna continued after a short pause.
"When you have enough time, worship Lord Indra sincerely."
Arjuna blinked slightly.
"Indra?"
Karna nodded.
"Considering he is your spiritual father, perhaps the king of the Devas may personally help you one day."
Arjuna fell silent. The idea itself stirred something deep inside him. Then Karna's tone became slightly more serious.
"However… remember this carefully." Arjuna looked toward him again. "Divine weapons are never meant for selfish desires." The night wind moved through Karna's hair softly while his eyes reflected moonlight. "They must always be wielded only to protect dharma."
Arjuna slowly nodded.
"Thank you for the advice."
They continued walking afterward. Then, after some hesitation, Arjuna finally spoke again.
"There is something I wanted to ask you."
Karna gestured lightly for him to continue.
Arjuna inhaled deeply.
"It is about Brother Balarama. When I visited Dvarika months ago, I heard he is still furious with you." Arjuna looked genuinely curious now. "He still has not forgiven you." Then after a pause he asked carefully, "Was it truly worth creating enmity with such powerful people… for the sake of one woman?" He immediately added afterward, "No offence meant."
Karna remained silent.
Arjuna awkwardly continued.
"Subhadra is only one among your queens." Then he sighed lightly. "We are family now through her. That is why I wanted to ask you honestly. I mean, if she is your beloved, it makes sense, but for another queen… I just didn't understand… A wise king like you should also know how the public will think about it, either. How they would talk bad things about you behind your back..."
Karna stopped walking. The moonlight reflected quietly upon his golden armour while cool wind moved gently across the gardens.
"I do not mind answering the question," he answered calmly. Then, after a brief silence, he continued. "Dharma is often like that, Arjuna. There is no place for attachment when righteousness stands before you." His eyes slowly lifted toward the night sky. "To uphold dharma, Vibhishana abandoned his own elder brother Ravana and sided with Lord Rama despite knowing that the people of Lanka would not forgive him. Why? Because Rama stood upon the correct path."
Arjuna listened quietly. Karna continued.
"These relationships we form in one lifetime… they belong only to this life. But dharma follows the soul itself. That is why people speak about karma, heaven, hell, future births. When one commits evil knowingly, its burden follows the soul. When one protects righteousness, that too follows the soul."
Arjuna's expression slowly became more thoughtful.
Karna then looked directly into his eyes. "So if one day… you stand before a situation where even your own brother walks upon the wrong path…"
Arjuna stiffened faintly.
Karna continued firmly. "You must first try to guide him back toward righteousness. But if he refuses… you cannot join him in wrongdoing simply because he is family. Opposing him would be the correct path. Even if others call you disloyal. Even if they call you a traitor."
Arjuna fell completely silent afterward. Because although Karna spoke generally, for some reason the words felt strangely personal.
He remained quiet for several moments before finally speaking.
"But my eldest brother can never become unrighteous." His voice carried immediate certainty—almost instinctive certainty. "He is the very embodiment of Dharma."
Karna slowly looked toward him. There was no mockery in his eyes—only calm understanding.
"You do not control the future, Arjuna," Karna replied quietly.
The younger prince's expression stiffened slightly.
Karna continued in the same composed tone.
"No person truly knows what kind of circumstances may appear before them tomorrow." He slowly walked forward again, his footsteps soft against the stone pathway. "My Gurudev taught me that a man may speak proudly of righteousness while standing safely beneath sunlight, but the real measure of his dharma appears only when darkness surrounds him from every side."
Arjuna silently listened.
Karna's voice deepened slightly afterward. "Pain changes people. Fear changes people. Loss changes people. And emotions…" He paused briefly. "They cloud even the wisest minds."
The moonlight reflected faintly upon his golden armour while the wind carried the scent of night-blooming jasmine between them.
"You say your brother is righteous," Karna continued. "And I agree." Then, after a pause, he added calmly, "But righteousness alone is not enough."
Arjuna frowned slightly now.