The sun rose over Rajagriha, gilding the palace domes and banners with a light that seemed almost ceremonial. The city was awake before dawn, every street swept clean, every guard at attention. Today, the council would begin—a gathering that could shape the fate of Aryavarta for generations.
One by one, the delegations assembled in the palace forecourt. Malwa's king, tall and severe, wore a cloak of midnight blue, his retinue silent and watchful. Vatsa's noblewoman, draped in crimson and gold, moved with the confidence of one accustomed to command. Kosala's prince greeted all with a dazzling smile, but Arya noted the calculation behind his eyes.
Drupada of Panchala arrived last, his carriage flanked by armored guards. He descended with the dignity of a monarch who had seen both triumph and loss. His gaze lingered on Jarasandha, a silent challenge passing between the two rulers.
Jarasandha received each guest with formal courtesy, Padmavati and Vasumati at his side. Arya, ever the observer, stood just behind, her presence a reminder that Magadha's king was never unguarded.
The council convened in the great marble hall, its pillars wrapped in garlands and its floor mapped with the emblems of every Mahajanapada. Servants poured spiced wine and set platters of fruit and nuts before the assembled rulers.
Jarasandha opened the council with measured words. "Kings and princes of Aryavarta, you are welcome in Rajagriha. May this council bring wisdom to our ambitions and peace to our rivalries."
Malwa's king spoke first, his tone cool. "Peace is a noble goal, but strength is its foundation. Magadha's alliances grow, and so do the fears of its neighbors."
Vatsa's noblewoman added, "We come not as supplicants, but as equals. Let us speak openly—what does Magadha seek from this gathering?"
Jarasandha met their gaze without flinching. "Magadha seeks stability. We wish to end the cycle of endless leagues and shifting alliances. If we are to prosper, we must find a new balance."
Kosala's prince raised his cup. "Then let us speak plainly. The old order is fading. Who among us will shape the new?"
As the debate unfolded, Arya watched for signs of hidden agendas. She noticed the way Malwa's king and Vatsa's noblewoman exchanged glances, the coded gestures between Kosala's prince and Drupada's advisor. She quietly dispatched Malini to follow the servants who lingered too long near the council doors.
Padmavati and Vasumati worked the room in their own way—Padmavati with soft words and careful listening, Vasumati with pointed questions and a diplomat's poise. Together, they gathered whispers and rumors, piecing together the undercurrents that would shape the council's outcome.
Sumana, Asti, and Udayan watched the proceedings from a balcony above the hall, their tutors explaining the significance of each exchange. Udayan whispered, "It's like a game, but everyone is trying to hide their real moves."
Sumana replied, "Father says the hardest battles are fought with words, not swords."
Asti, ever quiet, added, "But sometimes words can start wars, too."
As the day wore on, the council's tone shifted. Old grievances surfaced—border disputes, trade rivalries, the memory of past betrayals. Drupada spoke of Panchala's right to self-determination; Malwa's king warned against any one power dominating the Ganga plain.
Jarasandha listened, intervening only to keep the peace. His authority was clear, but so was the resistance of those who had come to test him.
When the council adjourned for the evening, the kings and envoys dispersed in small groups, their discussions continuing in quieter corners of the palace.
That night, Arya met with Jarasandha, Padmavati, and Vasumati in the king's private study.
"They are wary, but not united," Arya reported. "Malwa and Vatsa are the most likely to form a league, but Kosala waits to see which way the wind blows. Drupada is proud, but he is also isolated."
Padmavati said, "We must keep them divided. If they unite, even Magadha and Avanti will be tested."
Vasumati added, "Let us use the council to draw out their ambitions. The more they speak, the more we learn."
Jarasandha nodded. "Tomorrow, we press them for answers. Tonight, we watch and wait."
As the palace settled into uneasy quiet, Arya stood at her window, watching the torches flicker in the courtyards below. The council had begun, but the true battle was only just unfolding—a contest of wit, will, and the fate of kingdoms.