As the events unfolded, Krishna, the Supreme Lord, addressed the Brahmin who had arrived. With warmth and respect, he inquired, “O best of Brahmins, is your dharma, cherished by the elders, proceeding smoothly? Is your mind always content?” He reflected that whenever a Brahmin remains steadfast in his own duty and content with whatever comes, he fulfills all desires. Even the lord of the gods, if discontent, wanders restlessly among worlds; but one who is content, though possessing nothing, sleeps free from affliction. Krishna bowed his head to such Brahmins—content with what they receive, virtuous, humble, peaceful, and the best friends to all beings. He continued, “O Brahman, is all well with you? For any king whose subjects live happily under his protection is dear to me.” Krishna then asked, “Since you have come here, crossing many hardships by your own wish, please tell me everything, especially if there is anything confidential. What should I do for you?” Thus respectfully questioned by Krishna, who had assumed a human form for his pastimes, the Brahmin began to narrate his purpose. He conveyed the secret message from Rukmiṇī, the princess of Vidarbha. Rukmiṇī, in her message, addressed Krishna: “O beauty of the worlds, having heard of Your virtues, which remove the distress of those who listen, my mind, shamelessly, has entered into You through the channels of my ears. Beholding Your form, which fulfills all desires for those who see, my heart is captivated.” She expressed, “O Mukunda, what noble maiden of good family, possessing discernment, would not choose You as her husband? You are equal to Yourself alone in lineage, character, beauty, knowledge, age, wealth, and glory, and You delight the minds of all people, O lion among men.” Rukmiṇī pleaded, “Therefore, O Lord, I have chosen You as my husband; please accept me as Your wife, for I have offered myself to You. Let not the king of Cedi, like a jackal seizing the offering meant for the lion, touch the share of the hero, O lotus-eyed one.” She continued, “If the Supreme Lord, the master of all, the elder brother of Gada, is truly satisfied with my worship—through charity, sacrifice, vows, rituals, and service to gods, Brahmins, and elders—then let Him come and take my hand, and not the son of Damaghoṣa or any other. Tomorrow, O unconquered one, when You come to Vidarbha to marry, concealed and surrounded by chiefs of Your army, overpower the forces of Cedi and Magadha, and forcibly win me, whose bride-price is valor, according to the custom of the Rākṣasas.” Anticipating Krishna’s concern, she explained, “If You wonder how I, who am kept within the inner chambers and guarded by relatives, can be married by You, I will tell You the means: On the previous day, there is a great procession to the family goddess, during which the new bride goes outside to worship Girijā.” With deep longing, Rukmiṇī declared, “The great souls desire to bathe in the dust of whose lotus feet, just as the Lord of Umā does to destroy his own darkness. O lotus-eyed one, if I do not obtain Your favor, let me give up this life, emaciated by vows, over hundreds of births.” The Brahmin concluded, “Thus I have brought these secret messages from the daughter of the Yadu dynasty. Consider what should be done here, and then act accordingly.” Śuka then narrates: Hearing the message from the princess of Vidarbha, Krishna, the son of the Yadus, took the Brahmin by the hand, smiled, and spoke. The Blessed Lord revealed, “I too am unable to sleep at night, my mind absorbed in her. I know that Rukmiṇī’s marriage to me was prevented by her brother out of enmity. I will bring her here, seizing her from the assembly of kings in battle—she who is devoted to me, flawless in form, like the flame of sacred fire.” Knowing the auspicious time for Rukmiṇī’s wedding, Madhusūdana instructed his charioteer, “Dāruka, quickly yoke the chariot.” Dāruka brought the chariot, yoked with horses named Śaibya, Sugrīva, Meghapuṣpa, and Balāhaka, and stood before Krishna with joined palms. Mounting the chariot, Krishna placed the Brahmin on it, and with swift horses, they reached Vidarbha from Ānarta in a single night. Meanwhile, the king of Kuṇḍina, out of deep affection for his son, began the wedding preparations to give his daughter to Śiśupāla. The city was thoroughly cleaned and sprinkled, its roads, streets, and crossroads adorned with colorful flags, banners, and arches. It was filled with men and women dressed in spotless garments, adorned with garlands, fragrant flowers, and ornaments, and with splendid houses perfumed with aguru incense. The king duly worshipped the ancestors, gods, and Brahmins, fed them according to custom, and had auspicious rites recited. The beautiful maiden, freshly bathed, adorned for the auspicious ceremony, was dressed in fine garments and decorated with the finest ornaments. The foremost Brahmins performed protective rites for the bride with chants from the Sama, Rig, and Yajur Vedas; the chief priest, versed in Atharva Veda, offered oblations to pacify planetary influences. The king, best among those who follow proper rites, gave gold, silver, garments, sesame mixed with jaggery, and cows to the Brahmins. King Damaghosha, lord of Cedi, arranged everything appropriate for prosperity for his son, employing experts in mantras. With intoxicated elephants, chariots adorned with gold, and armies crowded with infantry and horses, he proceeded to Kundina. The king of Vidarbha approached him, honored him, and joyfully settled him in prepared accommodations. There, Shalva, Jarasandha, Dantavaktra, Viduratha, and thousands of allies from Chedi and Paundra arrived. Enemies of Krishna and Rama, determined to secure the maiden for the Chedi prince, gathered, resolved to fight if Krishna, accompanied by the Yadus, came to take her. All the kings, with their full armies and vehicles, came together, their minds fixed on battling him. Hearing of this effort by the opposing kings, Lord Rama, fearing conflict, learned Krishna had gone alone to take the maiden. Filled with affection for his brother, he quickly set out for Kundina with a great force of elephants, horses, chariots, and infantry. Meanwhile, the princess of Bhishmaka, of noble form, longing for Hari’s arrival, saw no sign of his coming and pondered the words of the Brahmin. She lamented, “Alas, three nights have passed since my wedding, though I am blameless; the lotus-eyed one does not come, and I do not know the reason. The Brahmin who carried my message has not returned even today. Perhaps, seeing some fault in me, the faultless one now hesitates to take my hand in marriage, though he had resolved to do so. My fate is unfortunate; the creator is not favorable to me, nor is the great lord Shiva, nor the goddess Gauri, Rudrani, Girija, or Sati.” Thus, all preparations and emotions converged, setting the stage for Krishna’s arrival and the unfolding of destiny.