That night..

Draupadi

She never thought a day like this could ever exist. How is it even possible? She hadn't had a very long life, considering she had had no childhood. But still, she knew this experience was something even common women didn't go through. Definitely no one had undergone this in any history that she had learnt.

She thought back to the day and lightly massaged her head. The roots of her hair still hurt, sore from being dragged all the way to the Sabha. She wondered if the passages had been smeared with her menstrual blood? She should probably ask someone to check and clean it up. Maybe they already had. A part of her wanted the stains to remain, so the kurus are forever reminded of her and their wrongdoings. She wondered if her garment had been washed and dried? No, she will order her maid to burn it. There is no way she would ever don it again.

She thought back to those awful, life-altering moments. She won't shed any more tears here in this place. No. She was a royal kshatriya lady. She won't be cowed by the likes of Duryodhana and Karna. After all, she was fire-born, the daughter of King Drupad, friend of Krishna, the wife of the mighty Pandavas. But wait, were they, though? Mighty?

She let her mind turn to her husbands. None of them had come to her afterwards. She didn't blame them, they were probably embarrassed and couldn't summon up the courage.

Yudhisthira liked gambling, but no one in the entire Bharatvarsha could have imagined that he would stake his brothers and herself. She wondered why he didn't stop before things went completely haywire. It will be a question that all the coming generations will be asking, she is sure of that.

She thought of Bhima and his terrifying vow. She was reminded of that day back in Indraprastha when he was bellowing at a servant over some issue, scaring poor Valadhara. She had to calm her down, that it was just Bhima being himself. She smiled at the memory, shaking her head. He always had that rage in him, but somehow he never made her fearful.

The twins. She knew they would be smarting at the insult, unable to voice their dissent openly to the Emperor. She decided she needed to change this. They all should be able to discuss everything as a family, without age and position as a barrier. Well, that is easier said than done. But what is the harm in trying? She could very well see Sahadeva being furious, wanting revenge.

And then her mind turned to her third husband. He worried her. Unlike Bhima, he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve. Emotions formed waves inside him, increasing in magnitude and didn't always find a beach to crash on. Krishna was not here either, to provide that personal comfort he needed. She is sure he must be heartbroken, especially because he did not stop Dushasana from manhandling her. Then, a random thought crossed her mind. What if he is so anguished due to the events at the Sabha today, that he decides to go on some pilgrimage for penance? He liked to do that, take off on his own with his precious Gandiva. A sudden cold gripped her heart. Traumatizing as it was being dragged to the assembly of men, it would be far more anguishing to be separated from him. She couldn't breathe in this palace, she needed fresh air.

Draping a light shawl around herself, she stepped out, walking towards the lake. The moon's reflection on the surface of the water made it shine like exquisite jewels. As she got closer, she saw him. He was sitting there by himself, his unkempt hair swaying in the breeze, watching the ripples on the water. Gandiva was right there next to him. Of course. It was like part of his body, she shook her head. Walking over, she saw him stiffening. Yes. He had become aware of her presence. Her fragrance always announced her.

Without giving him an opportunity to move, she sat down, right next to him, eyes on the shimmering water.