The wedding celebrations in Rajagriha had barely begun, yet the tremors of Jarasandha's alliance with Avanti were already shaking the courts of Aryavarta. Messengers rode day and night, carrying news and rumors alike: Magadha and Avanti, once wary rivals, now stood united by blood. For some, it was a sign of hope; for others, a warning that the balance of power was shifting once more.
The main Avanti delegation also arrived with the early monsoon morning mist. Their procession entered through the Rajagriha's ancient gates—elephants draped in gold, chariots bearing gifts, and banners of deep indigo and crimson. At their head rode King Vrihadratha himself, Vasumati's elder brother, his bearing proud but his eyes sharp with calculation.
Jarasandha greeted him at the palace steps, flanked by Padmavati, Arya, and the assembled ministers. The two kings embraced, their words formal but their grip firm—a public display of unity that left no doubt about the new order.
"Let all Aryavarta see," Vrihadratha declared, his voice carrying across the courtyard, "that Avanti and Magadha are now bound as kin. May our friendship bring peace, and our enemies think twice before testing our resolve."
Jarasandha replied, "Together, we are stronger than anyone who dreams to divide us. Let this day mark the beginning of a new era."
That evening, the palace hosted a grand banquet. Dishes from both Magadha and Avanti adorned the tables—spiced lentils, fragrant rice, and sweetmeats dusted with saffron. Musicians played melodies from both kingdoms, their notes weaving a tapestry of harmony.
Padmavati and Vasumati sat side by side, their laughter mingling as they welcomed guests from every corner of the realm. Arya moved quietly among the courtiers, listening for whispers and watching for signs of dissent.
Sumana and Asti, dressed in their finest, were introduced to Avanti's royal children. The young princes and princesses eyed each other with a mix of curiosity and shyness, sensing that their futures, too, would be shaped by the bonds forged tonight.
Even as the court celebrated, Arya's agents brought word of unrest beyond the palace walls. In the west, some of Avanti's old rivals—particularly in Malwa and Vatsa—viewed the union with suspicion. In the north, the Kauravas and Pandavas watched with narrowed eyes, each calculating how the new alliance might tip the scales in their own struggle for Hastinapur.
Reports from the south suggested that minor kings were gathering, uncertain whether to seek Magadha's favor or resist its growing reach. Previously, Drupada of Panchala also sent a letter of formal congratulations, but Arya noted the careful phrasing—a reminder that Panchala's ambitions had not faded.
Jarasandha convened his inner council late into the night. "We have gained a powerful ally," he said, "but we must not grow complacent. Every new bond brings new responsibilities—and new enemies."
Padmavati added, "Let us use this moment to strengthen our ties with those who remain undecided. A single wedding cannot erase years of rivalry, but it can open doors."
Vasumati, now fully a queen of Magadha, offered her insight. "Avanti's enemies will test us. But if we stand united, they will find no weakness to exploit."
In the days that followed, delegations from neighboring kingdoms arrived with gifts—some genuine, others thinly veiled bribes or attempts to curry favor. From Vatsa came a chest of gold and a promise of nonaggression. From Kosala, a rare white stallion, its saddle embroidered with scenes of ancient battles.
Jarasandha accepted each with measured gratitude, his words always courteous but never committing more than necessary. Arya kept careful notes, mapping the shifting allegiances and watching for patterns that might reveal deeper plots.
One evening, as the rains drummed softly on the palace roof, Jarasandha sat with his queens and children in the inner garden. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and jasmine.
Sumana asked, "Will there always be new enemies, Father? Even when we make peace?"
Jarasandha smiled, his gaze distant but warm. "Peace is not the absence of enemies, my child. It is the strength to face them without fear, and the wisdom to turn rivals into friends when we can."
Vasumati added, "And when we cannot, we stand together—family and allies alike."
Asti, ever thoughtful, nodded. "Then let us be strong, and wise, and never alone."
That night, Jarasandha unrolled the Veda Sutra. The words seemed to glow in the lamplight, echoing the lessons of the day:
The river carves its path through stone
Not by force, but by persistence.
Alliances, like water, shape the land—
Slowly, patiently, and with purpose.
He closed the scroll, feeling the currents of destiny flowing ever onward.