King Damaghosha, the lord of Cedi, made every arrangement to ensure the prosperity and success of his son’s wedding, employing experts in sacred mantras to sanctify the occasion. With great pomp, he set out for Kundina, leading a grand procession of intoxicated elephants, golden-charioted warriors, and armies teeming with infantry and horses. Upon his arrival, the king of Vidarbha came forward to honor Damaghosha, welcoming him with joy and settling him into accommodations that had been carefully prepared. Soon, other mighty kings assembled: Shalva, Jarasandha, Dantavaktra, Viduratha, and countless allies from Chedi and Paundra. These were all adversaries of Krishna and Balarama, intent on securing the princess for the Cedi prince, and ready to fight should Krishna, accompanied by the Yadus, attempt to take her. Thus, all the kings gathered with their armies and vehicles, their minds fixed on battle. When Lord Balarama heard of this formidable assembly, he became concerned about the threat of conflict. Learning that Krishna had gone alone to claim the maiden, Balarama’s heart, full of brotherly affection, moved him to set out swiftly for Kundina, leading a great force of elephants, horses, chariots, and infantry. Meanwhile, the princess of Bhishmaka, Rukmini, noble and beautiful, waited anxiously for Hari’s arrival. She saw no sign of him and pondered the words of the Brahmin who had carried her message. “Alas,” she thought, “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 Krishna, faultless as he is, has seen some flaw in me and now hesitates to take my hand, though he once resolved to do so. My fate is unfortunate; neither the creator, nor Shiva, nor Gauri, Rudrani, Girija, or Sati favors me.” Thus, her mind absorbed in thoughts of Govinda, the young maiden closed her tear-filled eyes, reflecting on the passage of time. As she awaited Govinda’s arrival, her left thigh, arm, and eye—beloved for their auspicious signs—began to tremble. At that very moment, the foremost Brahmin, sent by Krishna, entered the inner chambers and found the princess. Rukmini, recognizing him immediately, approached with a delighted face and undisturbed mind, her pure smile revealing her joy. She skillfully questioned him, and the Brahmin conveyed Krishna’s message: the son of the Yadu dynasty had arrived, and all was prepared for the self-choice ceremony. Hearing this, Rukmini’s heart overflowed with happiness. She did not meet the Brahmin’s eyes, for he was dear to her in another way—as Krishna’s messenger. Meanwhile, Balarama and Krishna, eager to witness the wedding, entered Kundina to the sound of musical instruments, receiving proper honors. Honey and milk, pure garments, and desired gifts were offered to them, and they were worshipped with due rites. The wise king prepared a splendid residence for Krishna and Balarama, their armies, and attendants, offering hospitality as was fitting. Likewise, he honored all the assembled kings according to their valor, age, strength, and wealth, fulfilling their desires with appropriate gifts. When news spread that Krishna had arrived, the people of Vidarbha rushed to see him, drinking in the sight of his lotus-like face with hands joined reverently at their eyes. They whispered among themselves, “Only Rukmini is fit to be his wife, and 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.” Thus, bound by the thread of love, the townspeople spoke. Meanwhile, the maiden, accompanied by guards, left the inner chambers for the temple of Ambika. She walked on foot to see the tender feet of Bhavani, yet in her heart, she fully contemplated the lotus feet of Mukunda. Surrounded by her mothers and friends, and guarded by brave royal soldiers in armor with raised weapons, she walked amid the resounding music of drums, conches, cymbals, trumpets, and kettle-drums. Thousands of noble women, richly adorned, carried offerings, garlands, perfumes, garments, and ornaments for the priests. Singers and musicians, bards, genealogists, and heralds sang her praises as she approached. Arriving at the goddess’s abode, Rukmini washed her feet and hands, purified herself, and entered the presence of Ambika. The elderly, learned wives of Brahmins, together with Bhavani, worshipped the goddess, wife of Bhava, with prayers for prosperity. Rukmini bowed and prayed, “I bow to you, O Ambika, again and again, auspicious one, accompanied by your children. May my husband be the blessed Krishna; may you be pleased with this offering.” With fragrant substances, unbroken rice, incense, garments, garlands, ornaments, various foods, and rows of shining lamps, the Brahmin women and their husbands worshipped the goddess with salt, cakes, betel leaves, necklaces, fruits, and sugarcane. They gave Rukmini the remnants and offered their blessings, which she accepted with humility. Her vows complete, Rukmini left Ambika’s house, holding her maidservant’s hand, her own hand adorned with a jeweled ring. Slender-waisted, her face adorned with earrings and jewels, her dark complexion radiant, a jeweled girdle on her hips, her breasts prominent, and her glances hidden by curling locks, she appeared like the enchanting, steadfast Māyā of the gods. Her pure smile, lips shining like bimba fruit, teeth like jasmine buds, and swan-like gait were complemented by the gentle sound of her tinkling anklets. As she appeared, the assembled heroes, renowned for their valor, were overcome with love for her and fainted. The kings, captivated by her noble smile and bashful glances, dropped their weapons, their hearts stolen by her beauty.