The king of Vidarbha, eager and full of respect, welcomed the noble guest who had arrived, honoring him with joy and settling him into carefully prepared quarters. Soon after, powerful kings and warriors began to gather: Shalva, Jarasandha, Dantavaktra, Viduratha, and countless allies from the lands of Chedi and Paundra all arrived. These were formidable enemies of Krishna and Balarama, intent on ensuring that the princess would be won for the prince of Chedi. They gathered in great numbers, ready to fight if Krishna, accompanied by the Yadavas, attempted to claim her. With their armies in full array—chariots, elephants, horses, and foot soldiers—the assembled kings fixed their minds on battle, determined to resist Krishna’s will. News of this formidable gathering reached Lord Balarama. Concerned about the brewing conflict, he discovered that Krishna had set out alone to bring away the princess. Moved by deep affection for his younger brother, Balarama quickly marshaled a great army of elephants, horses, chariots, and infantry, and hastened toward Kundina. Meanwhile, the princess of Bhishmaka, noble and radiant, longed for the arrival of Hari. Yet, as the days passed and she saw no sign of him, she pondered the words of the Brahmin messenger. “Alas,” she thought, “three nights have passed since my wedding was arranged. Though I am blameless, the lotus-eyed one has not come, and I do not know why. The Brahmin who bore my message has not returned either. Perhaps Krishna, the faultless one, has found some fault in me, and now hesitates to take my hand, despite his promise. My fate is unfortunate; neither the creator, nor great Shiva, nor the goddess Gauri, nor Rudrani, nor Girija, nor Sati are favorable to me.” Captivated 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 signs—began to tremble, hinting at impending good fortune. Then, following Krishna’s instructions, the foremost of Brahmins approached the princess, finding her within the inner chambers. Seeing him, her face lit up with delight and her mind was calm; skilled in reading omens, she questioned him with a pure, gentle smile. The Brahmin joyfully told her that the scion of the Yadu dynasty had arrived, and conveyed Krishna’s true words regarding their svayamvara. Hearing this, the princess of Vidarbha was filled with joy. Out of modesty and affection, she did not look directly at the Brahmin, for he was dear to her in another way. Meanwhile, Rama and Krishna, having arrived, were honored with music and proper ceremonies, as their presence was announced to the eager father, who longed to witness his daughter’s wedding. The king brought honey, milk, pure garments, and cherished gifts, worshipping them according to sacred rites. He prepared a splendid residence for Krishna and Balarama, their armies, and their attendants, extending all due hospitality. Similarly, to the assembled kings, he offered honors and gifts according to each one’s valor, age, strength, and wealth. When news spread that Krishna had come, the people of Vidarbha city flocked to see him, their hands respectfully joined at their eyes as they gazed upon his lotus face. 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 is pleased; may Achyuta accept the hand of the Vidarbha princess.” Bound by love, the townspeople spoke thus as the maiden, accompanied by guards, left the inner chambers and proceeded to the temple of Ambika. She went on foot, contemplating the tender feet of Bhavani, but her mind was wholly fixed on the lotus feet of Mukunda. Surrounded by her mothers and friends, and guarded by valiant royal soldiers clad in armor and bearing raised weapons, the air resounded with the sounds 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 and praised her as she made her way to the shrine. Arriving at the goddess’s abode, she washed her feet and hands, purified herself, and entered the presence of Ambika. The elderly and wise wives of the Brahmins, together with Bhavani, worshipped the goddess, the consort of Bhava, who is endowed with prosperity. With devotion, Rukmini 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.” The brahmin women, along with their husbands, worshipped the goddess with fragrant substances, unbroken rice, incense, garments, garlands, ornaments, many offerings and foods, and rows of lamps. They also offered salt, cakes, betel leaves, necklaces, fruits, and sugarcane. These women then gave the remnants of the offerings and their blessings to the bride, who respectfully accepted them, bowing in gratitude. Then, setting aside her vow of silence, she left Ambika’s house, holding her maidservant’s hand, her own hand adorned with a jeweled ring. With a slender waist, her face shining with earrings and jewels, her dark complexion radiant, a jeweled girdle at her hips, her breasts prominent, and her glances hidden by curling locks, she appeared as enchanting as the steadfast Māyā of the gods. Her pure smile, lips red as bimba fruit, teeth like jasmine buds, and her graceful, swan-like gait, accompanied by the gentle tinkling of anklets, made her resplendent. Beholding her, the assembled heroes, renowned and filled with love, fainted at the sight. The kings, their minds stolen by her noble smile and bashful glances, dropped their weapons in awe. Those illustrious kings, bewildered and seated on elephants, chariots, and horses, fell to the ground. Under the pretext of a bridal procession, Rukmini offered her own splendor to Hari, her lotus-like feet moving slowly, her heart yearning for the Lord’s arrival. Brushing aside her hair with the fingers of her left hand, she glanced modestly at the assembled kings. Then, as she prepared to mount the chariot, she saw Acyuta—Krishna himself. In that very moment, before the eyes of all her rivals, Krishna seized her and lifted her onto his chariot, fulfilling the longing of her heart.