Karna was relishing an exquisite time in the midst of his family, thoroughly enjoying the captivating allure of nature. His family was the embodiment of his soul, and he held an equal love for all his children. However, he reserved a special place in his heart for his daughter and her youngest child Vrishaketu. The affection he felt for them knew no bounds.

Madirakshi, too, reveled in the company of her husband as they embarked on a family picnic. While she cherished all her children dearly, her eldest child Vrishasena and her third child Shatrujan held a special place in her heart. She longed for the presence of Vrishasena and Aditi, her mind momentarily diverted by the lively chirping of Shatrujan.

"Pitashree, Matashree, see Vrishaketu is eating mud, and he refuses to heed my words," Shatrujan exclaimed, bringing his younger brother before their parents.

"Nay, Matashree and Pitashree, Shatrujan bhrata is telling falsehoods. Observe my countenance; it remains untarnished. I am but an innocent child Vrishaketu replied in his cheery voice.

"Allow me to examine you," Madirakshi said, lifting her youngest son and noticing traces of mud mixed with water on his neck.

"Putra Vrishaketu, do you perceive," Madirakshi began.

"What is it, Matashree?" Vrishaketu inquired, playing with his fingers while cradled in Madirakshi's arms.

"The stains of mud on your neck," Madirakshi revealed, gently twisting her son's ears, admonishing him for his deception.

"My apologies, my apologies. I shall never repeat it, but I do savor mud. It is quite delectable. You should give it a try, Matashree. You will relish it," Vrishaketu innocently suggested.

"Indeed, Vrishaketu. However, for now, accompany me. I shall cleanse you," Karna interjected. He proceeded to cleanse Vrishaketu, after which they shared a meal before returning to the palace.

"Dearest, tomorrow I shall depart for Anga, for Shri Krishna shall arrive as an envoy of the Pandavas. He seeks to negotiate with me regarding the Pandavas' Rajsuya Yagya. Take care of the palace, my love, and remember the room brims with positive energy," Karna whispered softly, his voice barely audible to Madirakshi alone.

"Fret not, Suryanandan. I shall remain here and attend to all matters diligently," Madirakshi reassured him.

They soon arrived at the palace. Karna grew weary of his monotonous routine, prompting him to seek out his musketeer gang. "Let us engage in a game of Seven Stones," he proposed, summoning his musketeers and their families.

The game would pit husbands against wives, with the children acting as umpires. The children brimmed with excitement, relishing the anticipation of a joyous game.

Karna gathered the seven stones, and as he held them in his hand, he began to speak, addressing all the players gathered around him. His voice carried with authority as he explained the rules of the game:

"Listen closely, everyone," Karna started, "this is how the game works." The other players nodded attentively, acknowledging his leadership.

He continued, "We have two teams: the seekers and the hitters. The seekers' job is to throw a ball at the pile of stones and try to knock them down. Once the stones are toppled, the seekers must rebuild the pile while avoiding throws from the hitters. The hitters, on the other hand, aim to strike the seekers with the ball before they can reconstruct the pile."

Karna paused briefly, allowing the rules to sink in. "To protect themselves, the seekers can touch a member of the opposing team before they get hit," he explained. "But remember, there are boundaries. The throwing seeker must maintain a safe distance from the stacked stones and adhere to the marked line on the ground."

He continued to outline the rules, ensuring everyone understood. "If a person fails to knock down the pile within three attempts, they are considered out. And if, during any of the three attempts, the thrower's ball fails to topple the pile and is caught by an opponent after the first bounce, the thrower is also out."

Karna's gaze swept across the attentive players as he proceeded. "Both teams should have an equal number of players, and the stone piles consist of seven flat stones," he clarified. "And one more thing, hitters are not allowed to run while holding the ball."

As Karna concluded the explanation, he sensed a comment coming from Vrishaketu. The young and spirited player spoke up, addressing Karna with a touch of amusement, "Pitashree, this seems quite tedious, doesn't it?"

The others couldn't help but smile and nod in agreement, appreciating Vrishaketu's lighthearted remark amidst the serious tone of the rules.

Karna did not take kindly to the statement and promptly approached Vrishaketu, twisting his ears and admonishing him, "You are as mischievous as your elder brother."

"Pitashree, please stop! It hurts! I am the judge, and I shall disqualify you," Vrishaketu retorted.

Karna then twisted Vrishaketu's other ear, eliciting an apology from the tearful young boy. "Sorry, Pitashree," he whimpered, and Karna's heart softened. He offered Vrishaketu some sweets he had bought for the children before rejoining his friends.

"Let us commence the game," Madirakshi proclaimed.

"Indeed, Priye," Karna agreed. The news of the game spread, captivating the attention of the elders, who decided to join the children, seeking a refreshing atmosphere themselves.

And so, the game began, infusing all the participants with a renewed sense of vitality. Laughter filled the air as the eight players, jumping and reveling, enjoyed the mesmerizing sunset of Hastinapur.

Later, Gandhari expressed her desire to hear Karna play his sitar, wishing to bask in the enchanting ambiance of nature as the melodies resonated.

Karna obliged, gracefully plucking the strings of his sitar, casting a spellbinding aura over the gathering. Happiness and rejuvenation coursed through everyone present. Following the performance, they enjoyed a sumptuous dinner before retiring to their respective chambers.

***

The next day, Karna set off for Anga, leaving Bhishma and Vidur filled with anxiety over his meeting with Krishna. They hoped that Karna would comprehend the Pandavas' perspective.

As Karna embarked on the journey to Ang, his mind brimmed with thoughts of the future. He knew that Shri Krishna would attempt to persuade him to support the Rajsuya Yagya. However, he resolved to present challenging and intriguing conditions.

His body yearned for rest, but relaxation eluded him. He longed for clarity of thought, craving personal solitude. The emotional turmoil within him remained concealed from those around him, as he disliked displaying his vulnerability. At long last, he arrived at the palace of Pataliputra. Making his way to his chambers, he instructed the soldiers to inform him upon Shri Krishna's arrival at the borders of Anga.

Entering his room, he collapsed onto his bed and drifted off to sleep. Yet, after only two hours, he awakened. Approaching the main inner door of Ang, he observed a shift in the wind's direction, sensing an unsettling calm preceding an imminent storm. He knew Shakuni, the King of Gandhar, had grown even more formidable in his mastery of dark magic. The realization dawned upon Karna that his magical barriers would be breached sooner or later, allowing Shakuni to unleash his plans, including the manipulation of Yudhishthira and Duryodhana through his sorcery. Duryodhana would be incited by envy and adharma, while Yudhishthira's proclivity for gambling would be ignited. Karna vowed to prevent such a future from unfolding.

***

The next day dawned, and with it came the arrival of the Lord of Dwarka. His face adorned a captivating smile. As Karna extended a warm welcome, the others nodded in agreement, acknowledging his presence, and led him into the magnificent palace of Pataliputra.

After settling in, Karna spoke up without hesitation, his voice filled with conviction, "I am aware of what lies ahead, and I shall not partake in the yagya."

Curious, Shri Krishna raised an eyebrow and queried, his smile still intact, "Why is that?"

Frustration lacing his words, Karna replied, "Because I have failed in fulfilling my gurudakshina."

"I beg to differ," Krishna chimed in, his smile unwavering.

"No, Vasudev, I have not succeeded. Hastinapur remains divided, with the Pandavas and the Kauravas not as closely bonded as brothers yet not quite enemies. I have failed in my guru dakshina," Karna admitted, disappointment etching itself onto his countenance.

"Who told you that, Angaraj? No, you have achieved a hundred percent success in your gurudakshina. Some things are destined to change, while others are not. You altered the course of the Lakshagraha incident, safeguarded my dear friend Draupadi from humiliation, transformed Khandavprastha into Indraprastha, completed the Digvijaya conquest, establishing equality throughout Āryāvrata. By participating in Bhrata Yudhishthira's Rajsuya Yagya, you will unify the entire Āryāvrata, thus fulfilling your guru dakshina to your gurudev," Shri Krishna declared.

"But I altered the fate of princess Devika. She shall endure humiliation," Karna lamented.

"Angaraj, who claims such things? Calm your mind first. There is still a chance to save her," Shri Krishna replied, his face illuminated by a perpetual smile. As Karna spoke about the rules, the others nodded in agreement.

"You have given me a brilliant idea, Keshav," Karna exclaimed.

"And now, are you amenable to supporting Bhrata Yudhishthira's Rajsuya Yagya?" Krishna inquired.

"On certain conditions, Vasudev," Karna proposed.

"And what might those be?" Krishna queried, his expression betraying no emotion, aware of Karna's condition.

"Firstly, the emperor and the chosen empress shall not interfere in the affairs of Anga and Ayodhya," Karna commanded.

"Accepted," Shri Krishna consented.

"Secondly, my wife and I shall retain the titles of Emperor and Empress of Ayodhya and the entire Aryavarta. Yudhishthira and Devika shall share the titles of Emperor and Empress with us, with me continuing to hold the position of the head of Aryavarta," Karna declared, expecting Krishna to decline the proposal.

"Accepted," Krishna replied, a smile still adorning his face. Karna stared at him, his countenance perplexed.

"Thirdly, Angaraj shall be present at the Rajsuya Yagya, but Emperor Prithvi shall not. Anga and Ayodhya shall also not pay any tribute to Indraprastha," Karna asserted.

"Once again, accepted," Krishna affirmed, his expression devoid of emotion.

"Now, for my fourth and final condition, reveal to me the name of my mother," Karna expressed his wish.

"Are you prepared to hear that name?" Krishna questioned.

"Why not? I am not one to be weakened by such revelations. I am a person of great strength," Karna asserted.

"In a matter of moments, your entire world shall be upturned," Krishna cautioned.

"I care not. I merely seek knowledge of my birth mother, who cast me upon the river Ganges," Karna insisted.

"Then listen well. Your mother's name is..." Krishna began, only to be interrupted by Karna's impatient voice.

"Yes, yes, Vasudev! What is my mother's name?" Karna implored.

"Your mother's name is Kunti, my aunt, the mother of the Pandavas, and the esteemed Queen Mother of Hastinapur and Indraprastha. Now, I shall take my leave for Indraprastha," Shri Krishna disclosed before departing, leaving behind a devastated Karna.

"No..." Karna screamed, the weight of his realization overwhelming him. He wept for his fate, for his existence, throughout the entire night. Karna's emotional turmoil peaked, yet he managed to regain control. Suppressing his emotions, he embarked on his journey back to Hastinapur.

News of Emperor Prithvi and Angaraj Karna's conditions reached the people of Āryāvrata, albeit with some variations. Krishna informed Yudhishthira that Emperor Prithvi had attended the negotiations, omitting Karna's fourth condition. Reluctantly, Yudhishthira accepted the conditions, recognizing his lack of alternatives. He understood the shrewd negotiating skills of both Karna and Prithvi. Though displeased, Bhima and Arjuna refrained from voicing their dissent.

Reactions in Hastinapur were mixed, as the populace remained unaware of Karna's prowess in negotiations. Madirakshi failed to grasp the significance of the conditions, while Bhishma and Vidur harbored reservations but chose to remain silent.

Upon Karna's return, his face revealed no emotions. When the children rushed to greet him, he merely delivered a stern lecture on conduct before retreating to his chambers, ordering not to be disturbed. Madirakshi understood his turmoil and cautioned the others not to disturb him, escorting the children to their rooms.

A month passed, and Karna gradually regained his composure and the day of the Rajsuya Yagya finally arrived.