The sixth day began before sunrise, long before the royal guests had finished their morning prayers.
Kampilya was already awake.
Smoke rose from hundreds of cooking fires around the city, carrying the smell of boiling rice, roasted grains, clarified butter, spices and sweetened milk through the streets.
The kitchens established for the Swayamvara had been operating for days, but this morning their scale increased dramatically.
Cooks moved between enormous vessels, servants carried baskets of vegetables and fruits, workers brought sacks of grain from storage houses, and carts loaded with milk, curd, ghee and other provisions entered the city continuously.
Panchala had known from the beginning that hosting such a gathering would require enormous preparation, but Day 6 was intended to make the extent of that preparation visible.
The Swayamvara had brought kings, princes, Brahmanas, ascetics, soldiers, merchants, craftsmen, servants and ordinary travelers into Kampilya, and Drupada had no intention of allowing anyone who had come under the protection of Panchala to leave saying that the kingdom had celebrated its princess while forgetting its people.
The arrangements had been divided carefully.
Separate kitchens prepared food for the royal households, while others prepared simpler but equally sufficient meals for Brahmanas, students, ascetics, soldiers, servants and common citizens.
Large temporary dining areas had been constructed near the palace, at the temples and in several open spaces around the city.
Some streets had effectively become long lines of feeding halls, with rows of people seated on mats while servers moved between them carrying vessels of rice, vegetables, pulses, curd and sweets. The kitchens had been instructed to continue preparing food until everyone waiting had eaten. Nobody was expected to bring payment.
Nobody was asked whether they belonged to Panchala. If a person had arrived in Kampilya as a traveler and had no food, that person could sit and eat.
Among those who entered the feeding areas that morning were the five Pandavas.
They came in their usual Brahmana disguises, looking no different from the countless Brahmanas who had gathered in the city during the previous days. They had already learned how useful such gatherings could be. A city filled with visiting rulers was not a place where five unknown young Brahmanas attracted much attention, particularly when hundreds of other Brahmanas were moving through the same streets.
Bhima was naturally more interested in the food than in the opportunity for anonymity.
He looked at the enormous vessels being carried toward the dining area and tried not to make his interest too obvious.
Arjuna noticed.
So did Nakula.
Sahadeva quietly looked away.
Yudhishthira gave Bhima a warning glance before he could begin asking whether another serving would be available.
The five brothers sat among other Brahmanas and accepted the food that was given to them. For a little while, there was no kingdom, no rivalry, and no question of their identity. They were simply five wandering Brahmanas receiving annadāna in a city celebrating the marriage of its princess.
Arjuna ate quietly.
His thoughts, however, were not entirely on the meal.
He wasn't showing it on his face, but he looked quite frustrated.
However, he couldn't do anything as he could only lower his head, not intending to risk their exposure.
But his frustration only grew further as the Swayamvara drew near.
He wondered whether she had already forgotten Arindhama.
He hoped she had.
He was not certain whether he wanted that hope to become true.
Across Kampilya, preparations for charity continued.
Drupada appeared publicly later in the morning and announced the day's distributions. Cows would be given to deserving Brahmanas and families who could properly maintain them. Gold and silver would be distributed in accordance with the established arrangements, while grain, garments and household necessities would be provided to those in need. Students attached to religious institutions would receive provisions, ascetics would be fed and supported, and grants would be made to institutions that served the kingdom's religious and educational life.
The royal households were encouraged to participate as well.
That transformed charity into something of a quiet contest.
Some kings donated cows.
Others gave gold.
Some presented fine garments or vessels from their own kingdoms. Others offered horses, ornaments, grain, or resources for temples and educational establishments. Every ruler had his own understanding of generosity, and every ruler knew that people were watching.
Drupada watched too.
He noticed the difference between a king who gave because he believed giving was part of his duty and one who made certain that everyone knew exactly how much he had given.
The distinction was not always obvious.
But it existed.
Dhrishtadyumna noticed it as well.
At one point he stood beside his father while several royal delegations announced their contributions. One ruler presented a substantial quantity of gold and immediately began explaining its value to the assembled officials. Another simply handed over his contribution and moved away.
Dhrishtadyumna watched the second man leave.
"You noticed?" Drupada asked.
"Yes."
"Remember him."
Dhrishtadyumna understood.
Kings revealed themselves in many ways.
A battlefield showed courage.
A court showed intelligence.
A feast showed manners.
Charity showed something else.
It showed what a ruler believed wealth was for.
By midday, the public feast had expanded throughout Kampilya. Food was being distributed in different parts of the city so that people would not have to travel long distances to receive it. Children were given sweets and fruits. Poor households received grain and clothing. Artisans were provided with tools and materials in some districts, while families considered deserving were given cows or other practical assistance.
The distribution of grain was particularly important.
Gold could be admired.
Jewelry could be displayed.
But a sack of grain could feed a household.
A set of tools could allow an artisan to work for months.
A cow could provide milk and become a source of livelihood.
Drupada wanted the charity to have value after the festival ended.
Draupadi participated in several of the charitable activities.
She appeared alongside women of the royal household and helped oversee the distribution of food and garments to women and children. Her presence attracted attention, as it always did now, but the people did not approach her merely as the princess who would soon choose a husband. Many had grown up seeing her in the palace and temple processions, and now they saw her moving among them during the feast.
Some blessed her.
Some praised her beauty.
Some wished her a good husband.
Some simply smiled when she handed food or clothing to a child.
Draupadi accepted all of it with a quiet dignity.
For perhaps the first time during the festival, she felt that the attention surrounding her had nothing to do with the assembled kings.
She was simply Panchala's princess.
And she liked that.
She watched the children receiving sweets and wondered how different the Swayamvara would look to them. To the citizens, the gathering was not merely a contest among famous warriors. It had brought trade, entertainment, food, visitors and wealth into their city. For several days, Kampilya had become larger than itself.
By afternoon, the scale of the celebration had become difficult to ignore.
Food had become almost part of the landscape.
The smell of cooked rice lingered through the streets. Servants carried fresh vessels from kitchens to dining areas. Musicians performed near public feeding halls. Children moved between groups of adults while guards maintained order without interfering with the festive atmosphere.
Visitors from different kingdoms contributed their own foods as well.
Rice preparations from one region appeared beside breads from another. Different methods of preparing vegetables, pulses and sweets were introduced to people who had never tasted them before. Milk preparations, fruits, cakes, roasted grains and spiced dishes created a strange culinary map of Aryavarta across the tables of Kampilya.
Even the royal feast reflected this diversity.
The visiting kingdoms had brought ingredients and cooks from their own lands, and Panchala allowed them to prepare dishes associated with their homes. A ruler could sit at one table and taste food prepared in another kingdom thousands of steps away from his own palace.
For the kings, it became another form of conversation.
"Try this," one prince told another.
"What is it?"
"From our western provinces."
"And you expect me to eat it without knowing what is inside?"
The prince laughed.
"You survived yesterday's mace displays. You will survive this."
The atmosphere was considerably lighter than it had been during the martial day.
The evening royal feast was even more elaborate.
The principal rulers were seated according to their established places, but the atmosphere was less formal than the banquet of Day 2. Musicians performed while food was served. Dancers appeared between courses, storytellers entertained groups of guests and performers moved through the halls.
The rulers talked freely.
Naturally, the subject eventually returned to the Swayamvara.
"The challenge will be difficult."
"After yesterday, I do not think anyone can say that the assembled warriors are ordinary."
"Several can certainly complete it."
"Can they?"
The questions moved from table to table.
Karna heard some of the discussions but did not participate in all of them.
He had watched the warriors on Day 4 and knew that several were formidable. Yet the actual challenge had still not been attempted, and until someone stood before it, all predictions remained predictions.
Duryodhana sat nearby and listened to the conversation.
At one point he looked toward Karna.
"You have not made a prediction."
"There is nothing to predict yet."
"You must have an opinion."
"I have several."
"And?"
Karna continued eating.
Duryodhana stared at him for a moment.
Then he smiled.
"You are deliberately refusing to answer."
"Yes."
The conversation ended there.
Not far away, Drupada continued observing his guests.
The day had given him another kind of information.
He had seen rulers who gave freely and those who calculated every gift. He had seen men treat servants with respect and others behave as though every person below their rank existed only to serve them. He had watched how princes behaved when they were not standing before an audience waiting to prove themselves.
Those observations mattered.
A king who could command an army was valuable.
A king who could also understand responsibility was far more valuable.
And Panchala would soon have to choose which kind of man should stand beside Draupadi.