When Lord Rama heard that the opposing kings were gathering their forces, he became concerned about the possibility of conflict. He learned that Krishna had gone alone to claim the maiden, and, moved by deep affection for his younger brother, Rama quickly set out for Kundina. He led a mighty army, with elephants, horses, chariots, and infantry all arrayed in splendid order. Meanwhile, the princess of Bhishmaka, noble in appearance and longing for the arrival of Hari, anxiously awaited news. She remembered the words of the Brahmin who had brought her message to Krishna. “Alas,” she thought, “three nights have passed since my wedding, yet I am blameless. The lotus-eyed one has not come, and I do not know why. Even the Brahmin who carried my message has not returned.” She wondered if perhaps Krishna had found some fault in her, and so hesitated to claim her hand, despite his earlier resolve. Feeling her fate to be most unfortunate, she lamented that neither the creator, nor the great lord Shiva, nor goddesses Gauri, Rudrani, Girija, or Sati seemed to favor her. Captivated by thoughts of Govinda and pondering the passage of time, the young maiden closed her tear-filled eyes. As she waited for Govinda’s arrival, her left thigh, arm, and eye—auspicious signs beloved for their promise—began to tremble. At that very moment, as Krishna had instructed, the foremost Brahmin entered the inner chambers and found the princess. She greeted him with a delighted face and a steady mind, her skill in reading omens evident. With a pure smile, she questioned him. The Brahmin conveyed Krishna’s message: the son of the Yadu dynasty had arrived, and he repeated the truthful words spoken about the self-marriage. Hearing this, the princess of Vidarbha felt her heart fill with joy. Out of modesty, she did not look directly at the Brahmin, for he was dear to her in another way. News of Krishna and Rama’s arrival spread quickly, and the king, eager to witness his daughter’s wedding, welcomed them with the sounds of musical instruments and the proper honors. He offered honey and milk, pure garments, and other desired gifts, worshipping them according to sacred rites. A splendid residence was prepared for Krishna, Rama, and their retinues, and hospitality was extended in every way. The assembled kings, too, were honored according to their valor, age, strength, and wealth. The people of Vidarbha city, hearing that Krishna had come, flocked to see him. With hands joined at their eyes, they drank in the beauty of Krishna’s lotus-like face. “Only Rukmini is fit to be his wife, and only he, flawless in nature, is worthy of Bhishma’s daughter,” they said. “Whatever little good we have done, may it please the creator of the three worlds. May Achyuta accept the hand of the Vidarbha princess.” Thus, bound by love, the townspeople spoke as the maiden left the inner chambers, making her way to the temple of Ambika, guarded by soldiers. On foot, she set out to behold the tender feet of Bhavani, yet her mind was wholly absorbed in the lotus feet of Mukunda. Surrounded by her mothers, friends, and brave royal soldiers bearing raised weapons, she was accompanied by the sounds of drums, conches, cymbals, trumpets, and kettle-drums. Thousands of noble women, adorned in finery, carried offerings, garlands, perfumes, garments, and ornaments for the priests. Singers and musicians sang her praises, while bards, genealogists, and heralds surrounded her. Arriving at the goddess’s abode, Rukmini washed her feet and hands, and, purified and peaceful, entered Ambika’s presence. The elderly, learned wives of Brahmins, together with Bhavani, worshipped the goddess, wife of Bhava, who is endowed with all prosperity. Rukmini bowed again and again, praying, “O Ambika, auspicious one, accompanied by your children, may Krishna, the blessed one, become my husband. May you be pleased with me.” With fragrant substances, unbroken rice, incense, garments, garlands, ornaments, various offerings, food, and rows of lamps, the Brahmin women, along with 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. Then, abandoning her vow of silence, Rukmini left the house of Ambika, holding her maidservant’s hand, her fingers adorned with a jeweled ring. Slender-waisted, her face radiant with earrings and jewels, her dark complexion set off by a jeweled girdle, her breasts prominent, and her glances hidden by curling locks, she appeared like the enchanting, steadfast Māyā of the gods. Her pure smile, lips red as bimba fruit, teeth like jasmine buds, and her swan-like gait made her shine, the gentle sound of her anklets adding to her grace. As she appeared, the assembled heroes, renowned and overcome with love for her, fainted at the sight. The kings, their minds stolen by her noble smile and bashful glances, dropped their weapons in awe. Bewildered, the illustrious kings, seated on elephants, chariots, and horses, fell to the ground. Under the pretext of a procession, Rukmini offered her own splendor to Hari, moving slowly, her lotus-like feet shifting, all the while looking for the Lord’s approach. Brushing aside her hair with the fingers of her left hand, she glanced modestly at the assembled kings and then saw Acyuta. As the royal maiden was about to mount the chariot, Krishna seized her before the eyes of all his rivals. Placing her on the chariot marked with Garuḍa, Mādhava, heedless of the assembled kings, departed slowly, led by Rama, like a lion carrying off its prey from among jackals. Those proud kings, unable to bear their defeat and the loss of fame—especially Jarāsandha and his allies—cried out in shame, “Alas! Armed with weapons, we have been robbed by cowherds, like lions taking deer from among lesser beasts!” Śuka said: All of them, greatly enraged, mounted their vehicles, armed themselves, and, surrounded by their armies, pursued Krishna and Rama with drawn bows. Seeing them advancing, the chiefs of the Yādava army stood ready, their bows stretched and resounding, prepared to face the oncoming kings.