Karna continued looking at the painting for several moments before finally turning toward Draupadi.
The surprise had not completely left his face.
There was something almost strange about seeing that familiar young Brahmin on her scroll, especially after meeting him only a short while ago in the backyard of a potter's house.
He looked again at the painted bow in the young man's hand and then at Draupadi, who was now standing beside the painting with her fingers nervously tightening around the edge of her cloth.
"Who is he?"
Draupadi lowered her eyes.
"His name is Arindhama," she said quietly. "He is a Brahmin whom I met multiple times."
She walked a few steps away from the painting and turned her back toward Karna.
It was easier to speak that way.
Looking at him made the shame she had been carrying feel heavier, because Karna was not merely another elder in her life.
He was the person who had stood beside the sacred fire when she was born, the man who treated her more like family than her own father.
If there was anyone to whom she should have been able to speak honestly, it was him. Yet now that the secret had finally come out, she wished she could take the words back.
"I know it is wrong for me to develop such feelings toward someone like him," she continued. "He does not match our status in any way. And my Swayamvara is happening. I should be thinking about the kings and princes who have come here, about my father's expectations, about Panchala... but I could not stop thinking about him."
Her voice became quieter.
Karna watched her carefully.
Draupadi turned around again, and this time he saw that her eyes had become moist. She quickly blinked, but it did little to hide it.
"I am sorry, Brother Karna. I feel so bad for having these feelings." Her voice trembled slightly. "Father will be so disappointed in me if he knows. And Elder Brother Dhrishtadyumna..."
She stopped for a moment, almost afraid of the thought itself. "When I think about his anger, I become afraid that he might go and slay that person instead."
Karna remained silent.
He could see that she was not asking him to solve some romantic problem merely because she was confused.
She was genuinely frightened.
Not of loving someone, perhaps, but of what everyone around her might do once they learned whom she loved.
She had been born into royalty, raised with expectations that had existed before she could understand them, and now the entire Aryavarta had come to Kampilya because she was supposed to choose a husband. Somewhere in the middle of all that, she had met a man who did not belong to the world everyone expected her to enter.
Draupadi looked at him helplessly.
"Please keep this a secret, Brother. I will try my best to forget him."
Karna sighed.
He stared at her for a long moment, and there was a quiet heaviness in his expression now.
He could understand her fear. He could also understand the difficulty of what she had placed before him.
"If only you had told me this before the Swayamvara," he said. "I would have tried to convince Maharaj Drupada not to conduct it at all."
Draupadi looked at him.
"But now..." Karna paused.
For a moment he seemed to be thinking through several possibilities at once. The Swayamvara had already been announced. Kings and princes had arrived. The challenge had been prepared. The invitations had gone out. Changing everything now would create far more complications than simply cancelling an ordinary ceremony.
He finally exhaled.
"Okay. All right. I will help you in this matter."
Draupadi looked surprised.
"What do you intend to do, Brother?"
Karna turned toward her fully.
"Swayamvara is an event where the bride chooses her own life partner. In that sense, you have every right to invite a person to your Swayamvara to compete for your hand."
Draupadi stared at him.
"Do you mean... you will invite him to the Swayamvara?"
"Yes."
"But how is that possible?" Her surprise quickly returned. "All the princes and kings of Aryavarta are coming here and participating in the Swayamvara. How could a Brahmin of commoner origin even participate? And even if we suppose he participates, how could he possibly be a match for the Kshatriyas who have come here?"
Karna listened without interrupting.
Then he said simply, "Those who finish the test, you have to select them."
Draupadi frowned slightly.
"What?"
"There is no such rule in a Swayamvara, Draupadi. As I have told you before, Swayamvara is an event where the bride chooses her own husband. It is not necessary for the bride to marry the person who completes the test. The test is only a medium through which the princess can observe the abilities of a potential suitor. It is nothing more than that."
Draupadi slowly absorbed his words.
"The ultimate choice is yours," Karna continued. "Not the bow. Not the challenge. Not the person who succeeds in it."
She remained silent.
Karna then asked, "Do you remember what I told you about choosing an able husband?"
Draupadi nodded.
"You told me to first look at my feelings and impression of the person, then his background, and then what advantages he could bring to me and the kingdom."
"Good."
She lowered her gaze.
"He has nothing that can benefit the kingdom."
Karna nodded. "That only applies when you are looking at strangers and assessing them through the eyes of a neutral party. You are comparing unknown men and trying to determine which one would make the most suitable husband and ruler. But this situation is different."
Draupadi looked up.
"Love is more important here," Karna said.
The words were simple, but they seemed to settle heavily between them.
He had given her advice before, but this was different. He was not telling her that love alone should always determine a marriage. He was telling her that when she already had feelings for someone, the framework he had previously given her could not simply be applied as though she were judging a collection of strangers.
Yet before he did anything, Karna wanted to be certain.
He looked directly into her eyes.
"But before I take this step, I want you to answer me one thing. Do you truly want him to join the Swayamvara and compete for your hand?"
Draupadi hesitated.
Her fingers tightened again around the edge of her garment.
"But I do not know what he thinks about me," she said. "Other than as a princess."
Karna considered that.
"His participation in the Swayamvara itself would be his consent to marry you, would it not?"
Draupadi blinked twice.
She thought about it.
Then she slowly nodded. "Yes. That is true indeed."
Karna gave a small nod. "Then I will go and speak to Maharaj."
A smile appeared on Draupadi's face. "Thank you, Brother."
Karna turned toward the doorway, but after taking only a couple of steps, he stopped and looked back at the painting. "There is one more thing."
Draupadi tilted her head. "I need help with a certain drawing. Can you do it?"
She looked slightly puzzled.
"What is it, Brother?"
Karna explained the design he had described earlier to the potter, going through the tall ceremonial vase, the unusual eight-sided body, the curved sections resembling partially opened lotus petals, the lotus-shaped rim, the raised relief depicting the Sun, flowers, trees, animals, and birds, and the central image of Suryadev riding his seven-horsed chariot. He also explained that the design needed to continue around all eight sides and that he wanted a broad lotus-decorated base with a reddish-brown polished finish and subtle gold detailing.
Draupadi listened carefully.
When he finished, she asked, "Did Sister Subhadra ask you to make it?"
Karna shook his head. "No. I want to make it for Queen Dhavani. Subhadra's tastes are different."
Draupadi smiled faintly.
"All right. I will do it."
"Good."
Karna gave her one last look before leaving the chamber.
The door closed behind him.
Draupadi remained still for a few moments.
Then she suddenly turned toward the painting.
She scurried back to it almost as though afraid that the image might disappear if she left it alone for too long. Standing before the scroll, she looked at the painted young Brahmin holding the silver bow, studying the face she had drawn so many times in her thoughts that her hand had eventually learned it almost without instruction.
Her eyes softened.
Her fingers lightly touched the edge of the scroll.
"Arindhama..." she murmured.