King Damaghosha of Cedi, renowned as the foremost among those who uphold sacred rites, carried out a grand and generous ceremony. He gave abundant gifts of gold, silver, fine garments, sesame mixed with jaggery, and cows to the Brahmins, ensuring every detail was attended to with utmost propriety. Seeking prosperity for his son, Damaghosha engaged experts skilled in sacred mantras, arranging every auspicious rite as tradition prescribed. With all preparations complete, the king set out for Kundina, accompanied by a splendid procession: mighty elephants in their prime, chariots gleaming with gold, and vast armies teeming with foot soldiers and noble horses. Upon his arrival, the king of Vidarbha himself came forth, honoring Damaghosha with heartfelt hospitality and joyfully settling him in accommodations prepared for the occasion. Soon, other illustrious kings and warriors gathered in Kundina. Shalva, Jarasandha, Dantavaktra, Viduratha, and countless allies from Chedi and Paundra arrived, swelling the assembly. United in their opposition to Krishna and Balarama, these kings were determined to secure the princess for the Cedi prince. They resolved to fight if Krishna, with the Yadus, attempted to claim her. Thus, the field was set: all the assembled kings, with their full armies and conveyances, fixed their minds on battle, prepared for conflict should Krishna appear. When news of this gathering reached Lord Balarama, he grew concerned about the possibility of war. Learning that Krishna had already gone alone to win the maiden, Balarama’s affection for his brother moved him to action. He quickly mustered a great force of elephants, horses, chariots, and infantry, and set out for Kundina. Meanwhile, the princess of Bhishmaka, noble in form and heart, longed for Hari’s arrival. Yet, as she waited, there was no sign of Krishna, and she pondered the words of the Brahmin messenger. “Alas,” she thought, “three nights have passed since my wedding, though I am without blame. The lotus-eyed one does not come, and I do not know why. The Brahmin who carried my message has not returned even today. Perhaps the faultless Krishna has seen some flaw in me and now hesitates to take my hand, though he had resolved to do so. My fate is unfortunate; neither the creator nor great Shiva, nor the goddesses Gauri, Rudrani, Girija, or Sati, are favorable to me.” Thus, her heart held captive by thoughts of Govinda, the young maiden reflected on the passage of time, closing her tear-filled eyes. As she awaited Govinda’s arrival, her left thigh, arm, and eye—beloved for their auspicious omens—began to tremble. At that very moment, the foremost Brahmin, sent by Krishna, entered the inner chambers and saw the princess. She greeted him with a delighted face and a composed mind, her skill in reading signs evident. Smiling purely, she questioned him. The Brahmin brought joyful news: the son of the Yadu dynasty had arrived, and he conveyed Krishna’s true words regarding the upcoming self-marriage. Hearing that Krishna had come, the princess’s heart overflowed with joy. Out of modesty and affection, she did not look directly at the Brahmin, for he was dear to her in another way. Soon after, Balarama and Krishna arrived in Kundina, eager to witness the wedding. They were welcomed with music and all proper honors. The king of Vidarbha offered honey, milk, pure garments, and other desired gifts, worshipping them according to sacred rites. He prepared a splendid residence for the two brothers, their armies, and their attendants, providing every comfort as befitted their status. The assembled kings, too, were honored according to their valor, age, strength, and wealth, each receiving offerings to their satisfaction. When the people of Vidarbha heard of Krishna’s arrival, they flocked to see him, drinking in the beauty of his lotus-like face, their hands joined reverently at their eyes. They whispered among themselves, “Only Rukmini is fit to be his wife, and only he, flawless in nature, is the proper husband for Bhishmaka’s daughter. Whatever little good we have done, by that the creator of the three worlds is pleased. May Achyuta accept the hand of the Vidarbha princess.” Bound by love, the townspeople spoke thus, while the maiden left her inner chambers, heading to the temple of Ambika, guarded by soldiers. She walked on foot, intent on beholding the tender feet of Bhavani, all the while meditating deeply on the lotus feet of Mukunda. She was surrounded by her mothers and friends, protected by valiant royal soldiers clad in armor and bearing raised weapons. The air resounded with the music of drums, conches, cymbals, trumpets, and kettle-drums. Thousands of noble women, richly adorned, brought offerings—garlands, perfumes, garments, and ornaments—for the priests. Singers and musicians, together with bards, genealogists, and heralds, praised the bride as she passed. Arriving at the goddess’s abode, Rukmini washed her feet and hands, purified herself, and entered the presence of Ambika in peace. The wise and elderly Brahmin women, accompanied by Bhavani, worshipped the goddess, wife of Bhava and bestower of prosperity. Rukmini bowed and prayed, “O Ambika, I bow to you again and again, auspicious one, accompanied by your children. May my husband be the blessed Krishna; may you be pleased with this.” The Brahmin women, with their husbands, worshipped the goddess with fragrant substances, unbroken rice, incense, garments, garlands, ornaments, various foods, and rows of lamps. They offered salt, cakes, betel leaves, necklaces, fruits, and sugarcane. The women gave Rukmini the remnants of these offerings and their blessings; she bowed to them and accepted the prasada. Then, abandoning her vow of silence, Rukmini left Ambika’s house, holding her maidservant’s hand, her own hand adorned with a jeweled ring. Her slender waist was encircled by a jeweled girdle, her face adorned with earrings and jewels, her dark complexion radiant, her breasts prominent, and her glances coyly hidden by curling locks. She appeared as enchanting and steadfast as the divine Māyā herself. With a pure smile, lips shining like bimba fruit, and teeth like jasmine buds, she walked with the graceful gait of a swan, her anklets gently tinkling as she shone in all her beauty.