Panchala was resplendent like a decked up bride. Its luminous streets teeming with the dignitaries of the most powerful empires and wealthy kingdoms of Bharatvarsha. 

After all, everyone wanted a glimpse of the pulchritudinous Princess, who had apparently been born out of a sacrificial fire and whose beauty had turned the bards near mad with the desire to capture her essence in their lyrical odes. 

Draupadi, they called her. The daughter of Drupada. The princess of Kampilya. 

Karna could barely believe his eyes. 

She was a damsel no doubt. But her beauty was beyond the narrow boundaries of physicality. She burned like the scorching tongs of a vermillion fire, her fragrance wafted of blue lotuses and spread all around the arena, ensnaring everyone in a chokehold, her dark complexion glowed with a near celestial fervour and her long wavy hair was braided thickly with dazzling jewels and colourful flowers. 

She was a sight to behold. 

A sight which would turn any man mad.

So one could hardly fault him for trying his hand as well. 

He had had to hide a smile when Duryodhana had almost toppled off the dais, trying to lift the massive bow kept in front. He had seen the haughty crown prince of Hastinapur eyeing the princess like a lecherous lout since the time Drishtadyumna had been speaking about the rules. 

Karna had barely resisted the urge to get up and finish what he had started that day in the shadowed corridor of Hastinapur, all those months ago. 

The grief of Arjun and the Pandavas death's had settled like a dull ache in his chest and he was no closer to devising a plan which could help him get Anga independent from the Kuru empire. Or find Duryodhan on the battlefield, preferably without Bheeshma. 

No one had been able to even move the bow for even an inch forget hitting the nearly impossible target set. 

He could see Panchalanaresh Drupad start to look nervous. 

Then he had risen from his seat and advanced the centre of the gallery. Karna had seen the princess give him a curious once over and confidence had flown through his veins. He touched the bow with reverence and then gripped it firmly. 

There was a chorus of awed gasps when he lifted it with a smooth move. 

He wished he could somehow preserve Duryodhan's expression and hang it in his chambers to look at and laugh. The heir apparent of the Kuru throne was gnashing his teeth, almost breaking off the handle of his gold gilded seat. 

But what Karna had not anticipated was how hard it would be string the bow. He kept trying to pull it yet it was falling short by an inch. However much he pulled and laboured over it, nothing happened and the string remained loose and limp. 

He sighed in despondence and kept the bow back on the dais with an almighty huff and maybe harsher than he should have and went back to his seat, amidst alarmed mutterings of the assembled kings. 

Karna was slightly embarrassed but he couldn't find it within himself to hate the princess for that. 

It was simply ludicrous. 

But it seemed the other kshatriyas present in the hall, didn't agree with him. 

They had gotten provoked by now. 

"This is some sort of illusion. Have you called us here for insulting and humiliating us, Maharaj Drupad. If Angaraj Karna couldn't do it, no one can. Tell your daughter to chose one amongst us if you even want to see her get wed!"

The Kings declared furiously as Dhrishtadyumna and Shikandi tried appeasing the temperamental rulers. 

Karna's gaze was suddenly drawn to the rather mysterious, dark skinned stranger seated beside the King, who had not participated in the svayamvara. There was a peacock feather tucked in his bejewelled crown and his multihued eyes seemed to burn with an intelligence which appeared nearly ancient. 

Yadavashreshtha Krishna Vasudeva was his name.

And Karna had no idea why the unarmed, fairly slim and charming looking stranger who was despite his grave presence was also much younger to him in age; made him feel so afraid.

He had not even exchanged a single word with the former.

It was inexplicable and completely illogical. 

Suddenly Krishna's jade eyes met his and he startled almost violently. He smiled at the confused Radheya in that annoyingly serene way of his and then looked away, eyes searching into the crowd of brahmins on the other side. 

Karna followed his gaze and tried searching for what or whom, the son of Devaki was trying to look for. 

Then a brahmin youth stood up from the gathering and started to advance towards the dais. Karna watched awestruck even as the other Kings and warriors started chuckling and taunting the fellow with choice words. 

How dare a mere brahmin even hope to achieve the hand of the beautiful princess when they couldn't even lift the bow let alone hit the target?

Karna though was struck with a strange feeling as he tried observing the features of the dark skinned youth who appeared extremely familiar to him. His long limbs were uncharacteristically ripped. Like an athlete or an archer. He cannot be just a mere ascetic. 

He had a warrior's gait. 

A sharp shooter's stance. 

His long matted hair and beard obscured his face though it was still evident that he was quite handsome and the ash smeared on his body gave credence to his identity as a devotee of Shiva. 

He climbed up the dais and then in a surprising move, bowed to the princess with folded hands. 

Karna saw Draupadi look struck. Her large molten copper eyes were riveted on the prospective suitor. The King of Anga had expected her to appear a little more hesitant considering this was just a brahmin. A poor commoner who could not provide for her the luxury she was no doubt used to. 

But the dark skinned damsel kept staring at the man and the expression of shock settled into such a piercing look of desire that Karna felt embarrassed witnessing it. The change on her sharp features seemed to only increase her seductive appeal a thousand fold. 

And surprisingly enough, Karna was thankful he hadn't won the svayamvara. 

For Panchali would have never looked at him in that way. 

The youth touched the bow with the same reverence that the son of Radha had and Karna felt a searing emotion hit him point blank. 

A feeling he couldn't name. 

The onlookers watched dumbfounded, finally rendered speechless as the brahmin lifted the bow and strung it effortlessly in a powerful suave move. It was evident that this was a well practised skill. 

This was no ordinary brahmin. 

Cannot be. 

Karna watched with bated breath, as he kneeled in the centre of the dais, looking at the reflection of the fish in the water beneath, the five arrows held in one hand and then in a lightening speed nocked them one by one and shot them all, to hit the target perfectly. 

It was a work of art. 

A skill of miraculous marksmanship that no one had ever seen before. 

The dignitaries and failed suitors sat with their jaws lose and humiliation burning vile in their haughty hearts. 

The Princess of Panchala beamed with the brilliance of a thousand suns and alighted from her place atop the podium, the thick garland of white lotuses, steady yet tightly gripped in her slender hands. 

Krishna's grin transformed the beauteous expression of the rumoured God King's face into one that could easily overwhelm the spectators. 

The Panchala King and his sons stared slightly befuddled and evidently relieved. 

Only Karna could barely breathe. 

His heart seized in a painful grip and his head spun as realisation struck his mind with the force of a battering ram. 

"Arjun..."

He whispered awed and saw his not so dead friend bend his beautiful head to accept the garland which Draupadi draped over his shapely collarbones, shyly. 

Karna had half gotten up from his seat, ready to interrupt the auspicious occasion if needed, to physically shake the disguised prince of the Kurus by his shoulders, if only to confirm his rapidly soaring hopes. 

When the loud and raucous bellow of an enraged man stopped him at his place and turned everyone's attention away from the young couple at the dais who were uncaring of their surroundings, seemingly immersed in each other. 

"This is preposterous! A brahmin cannot take away a princess meant for kshatriyas. You have called us here to just humiliate us, King Drupad!"

Duryodhan's face was twisted in malicious wrath and his usually tanned skin aflame in a mottled red. Karna had never seen the crown prince of Hastinapur look so ugly in his rage before. 

"Prince Duryodhan, calm down. You are getting riled up for no reason.."

Dhrishtadyumna tried to reason with the infuriated Kaurava but to no avail. 

"This competition was clearly manipulated through mayaa. We will kill this upstart and then throw the princess in the very fire which has supposedly made her! And only then will we all be appeased!"

Duryodhan snarled and unsheathed his sword and pointed it at Draupadi whose panicked eyes met the still serene ones of Krishna, who mysteriously remained lounging in his seat beside an alarmed Drupada.

Karna turned his head shocked towards Arjun and saw him shield his new bride with his body, the muscles in his arms flexing, sparks already flying from his half hidden prussian gaze. The grip he had on the bow of the svayamvara tightened almost imperceptibly. 

"Duryo---", Drupada had begun warningly only to get rudely cut across. 

"Charge my kings! Let us avenge our insult!"

With that, all hell broke loose.