The Other Princess

Husbands

Queen Prishathi guided Samyukta through a splendid garden, a sanctuary of botanical marvels that seemed to flourish in every corner. The garden was a vast, lush expanse, adorned with an array of vibrant flowers and verdant plants. Tall, graceful trees formed a natural canopy, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze. Delicate petals of roses, lilies, and orchids created a mosaic of colors—fiery reds, deep purples, and soft pinks—intertwining with the green of the foliage. Pathways of smooth, polished stones wound through the garden, leading past fragrant jasmine bushes and clusters of wildflowers.

In one corner of the garden, a serene pond glimmered under the sunlight, its surface broken only by the gentle ripples of koi fish darting beneath. Nearby, a small wooden pergola, draped with climbing vines of wisteria, offered a shaded retreat where the air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers.

Samyukta’s eyes brightened as she recognized several plants amidst the floral splendor. “Is that ajwain?” she asked, pointing to a cluster of small, aromatic leaves.

Queen Prishathi looked at her with surprise. “Yes, it is! And that over there, the slightly larger bush, is ashwagandha. You have a keen eye.”

Samyukta nodded, smiling. “And that one with the small, oval leaves is brahmi. I also see aloe vera.”

The queen’s eyes widened with admiration. “Impressive! How do you know about these?”

Samyukta’s smile grew. “My aunt, Queen Kunti, taught me about these plants and their uses. She has always been very knowledgeable about herbs and their properties.”

Dhrishtadyumna, who had accompanied them, looked at Samyukta with newfound respect. “That’s quite impressive,” he said, his tone genuine. “Not many people have such knowledge.”

“It’s important to know these plants, to understand the power they hold,” Samyukta said softly. “Growing our own medicinal herbs is crucial, especially when it comes to injuries or illness. As Kshatriyas, we need to be prepared for war. We must rely on more than just our weapons.”

Dhrishtadyumna nodded in agreement, admiring her knowledge and practicality. “You’re right,” he said. “In times of war, when supplies are scarce, this knowledge can be the difference between life and death.”

"Yes, having the knowledge to create our own medicines could save many lives."

Prishathi laughed, her eyes sparkling. The queen moved gracefully between the rows of herbs and plants, her hands deftly plucking a few ripe amla berries from a nearby tree. “It seems my son is taking a sudden interest in botany and my garden. I’m pleased to see you both enjoying it.”

Samyukta chuckled, walking along with the queen. “Thank you, your highness. It’s a beautiful garden, and I feel quite at home here.”

The queen beamed, pleased with Samyukta’s appreciation and her son’s evident interest in the garden. “It’s always wonderful to share such beauty with those who truly appreciate it,” she said, her voice warm.

"You're wise beyond your years, Samyukta," she said, admiration evident in her voice. "Not many think so far ahead. It's rare for women of royal families to take such an interest."

Dhrishtadyumna, who had been silently observing the exchange, stepped closer, his expression softening. He pointed to a vibrant flower, its petals a striking shade of lilac, rare and captivating amidst the more common colours of the garden.

"Have you ever seen a hibiscus like this, in this unusual shade?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of excitement.

Samyukta's eyes widened as she marvelled at the delicate beauty of the flower. "It’s beautiful," she whispered, drawn to the unusual shade. "I’ve never seen one like it before."