Chapter 88. Lost Footing

Start from the beginning
                                    

And then they were castaway.

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The first time she'd set foot on the cool earth, emerging from the searing heat of the fire pit, a gasp escaped her lips, sharp and sweet like a child's laugh. Tentatively, she reached out, her fingers brushing against a blade of grass, the unfamiliar texture sending a jolt of wonder through her. It was all so new, so alive! Looking around, wide-eyed and breathless, she had stumbled upon a still pool of water. It reflected back an image – a girl with wild, brimming eyes.

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She stood in the opulent chambers of the Anga palace, adorned in garments fit for a queen. Her reflection, cast back from a polished gold mirror, showed lifeless abysmal pools, haunted by a life she didn't choose.

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Draupadi is standing in the warmth of Karna's childhood home. There, the air hummed not with the weight of expectation, but with the simple rhythm of everyday life. Her bed wasn't a grand, curtained dais, but a simple cot. There are no ostentatious displays of wealth, only the quiet beauty of worn furniture and well-loved toys.

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But then after the Navratri puja, his anger like a burning coal... she panicked and ran. She can't stand idle as her life turns. But then a harsh tug, the rustle of her dupatta being slipped from her head. Panic clawed at her throat. No...No... her pallu...

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No!

The memory shattered, leaving Draupadi gasping for breath. The relentless rain poured on her, drenching her, washing away the fear and the dread. Radha Ma had come then, like a beacon of hope, pulling her back from the abyss. But a terrifying thought clawed its way in – what if Karna's parents hadn't come?

But it was quickly supplanted by a reassuring thought. A flicker of warmth ignited at the memory of Karna's worry etched on his face. Yes, he was worried, fiercely so. His protectiveness, a shield against the world, had always been a source of comfort. But in that moment of vulnerability, a chilling realization dawned. Here, in Anga she no longer has a backing. The same family who had celebrated her birth, her swayamvar and her life have chosen their own hatred and revenge over her well-being.

Tears welled up in her eyes, a bitter mix of anger and despair. The weight of this new reality settled upon her like a leaden cloak. She clung to the memory of Karna's concern, a fragile spark in the suffocating darkness. He was a safe harbour, yes, but what if? And now he knows as well, that she is completely without any backing.

But then again, did he not know it always? Was that not why he had rushed with the wedding? He must have known even then, the precariousness of her position, the fickle loyalty and care of her father.

"Maharani! Maharani!" echoed the muffled plea of her newly appointed chief maid, her voice subdued amidst the thunderous symphony of the storm. "I implore you, please come inside. It is not safe out there!" She dashed through the downpour, her figure drenched from crown to sole as she hastened towards the queen.

Reluctantly, Angrani acquiesced, rising from her seat with natural grace. However, as she moved, the delicate vine of jasmine, entwined around the chains of the swing, became ensnared in her jewelled bracelet. Draupadi's departure tugged at the vine, prompting the maid to rush forward in an attempt to disentangle it. Yet, the queen, consumed by her thoughts, wrenched at it with a sudden force until it tore.

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