Shantanu, the noble king, gathered all his people and auspicious ministers together. In their presence, he installed his virtuous son as the crown prince, bestowing upon him the honor and responsibility of succession. Suta then spoke, recounting the tale of Gangeya’s birth and the sacred origin of Jahnavi—the descent of the divine Ganga. He reminded the sages that the story of Ganga’s arrival on earth and the origin of the Vasus had been narrated. This holy and pure account, he said, had now been shared with them, and the glorious Bhagavata, filled with sacred stories, had been told. Listening to these tales, Suta assured, destroys all sins, brings auspiciousness, and bestows happiness. The sages, eager for more, asked about Devavrata’s vow. They noted that the origin of the Vasus—born from a curse—had been recounted, as had the story of Gangeya’s birth by Lomaharshana. Now their curiosity turned to Vyasa’s mother, Satyavati. Wise in dharma, virtuous, and possessing a unique fragrance, how had she become the wife of Shantanu? They asked Suta to resolve their doubt and tell in detail how the daughter of a ferryman came to be accepted by the king, the foremost in dharma. Suta began his narration. Shantanu, a royal sage, was often absorbed in hunting. He would venture into the forests, pursuing deer, buffaloes, and antelopes. For four years, the king enjoyed happiness with his son, much like Shiva with his beloved child. One day, while shooting arrows and hunting boars and wild pigs, Shantanu wandered into a certain forest and arrived at the banks of the river Kalindi, renowned as the best of streams. There, he was suddenly enveloped by an indescribable, excellent fragrance. Seeking its source, he wandered through the forest, reflecting that this scent was not of mandāra flowers, nor musk from the deer, nor campaka, nor mālatī, nor ketakī—none of the usual delights. Never before had he experienced such a pure, fragrant breeze, and he wondered where this wind, so bewildering to his senses, had come from. Overcome by desire for the fragrance, Shantanu followed the wind through the forest. On the riverbank, he saw a woman of lovely appearance, modest and beautiful, standing firm in soiled garments. Her dark, enchanting eyes captivated him, and he realized that the wondrous fragrance came from her body. Her beauty and the fragrance were esteemed by all the world; she was in the bloom of youth, and the king was truly amazed. He pondered: Who is she? From where has she come? Is she a celestial maiden, a human woman, a daughter of the Gandharvas, or a Nāga maiden? How is she so fragrant and desirable? Unable to reach a conclusion, Shantanu, remembering Ganga and overcome by desire, approached the lovely woman. He asked her, “Who are you, dear one? Whose daughter are you? For what reason are you here, alone in this deserted place? Are you married or unmarried?” He confessed that desire had arisen within him upon seeing her beauty, and pleaded that she tell him what she intended to do and where she was going. The maiden, sweet-smiling and lotus-eyed, replied with a gentle smile, “Know me, O king, as the daughter of a ferryman, a maiden abiding by her father’s command. I am ferrying this boat here for the sake of duty; my father has gone home today. This is the truth I speak before you, O lord of wealth.” Having spoken, she fell silent. But Shantanu, overcome by desire, implored her, “Make me, O noble lady, the foremost of the Kurus, your husband. Let not your youth go to waste in vain. I have no other wife; be my lawful wife, doe-eyed one. I am your servant, always under your control. The god of love torments me. My beloved has left me; I have chosen no other and am forlorn. Seeing you, so lovely in every limb, my mind is utterly captivated.” Hearing these sweet words, the ferryman’s daughter, pure in disposition, composed herself with courage and spoke to the king. “O king, what you have said to me, I accept as you have spoken. But know truly, I am not independent—my father is the giver. Seek his consent quickly. Though I am the daughter of a ferryman, I am not free. I always act under my father’s authority. If my renowned father gives his consent, take my hand—I am yours to command. O king, why does the god of love trouble you as he does me, now that I am in the bloom of youth? Even in such matters, one must preserve self-control and uphold the traditions of the family.” Suta continued: Hearing her words, Shantanu, still overcome by desire, went to the house of the ferryman to make his request. The ferryman was greatly astonished to see the king approach; bowing with joined palms, he asked the king the purpose of his visit. Shantanu replied, “O sinless one, if you give her to me, I will make your daughter my lawful wife. I speak this truthfully to you.” The ferryman responded, “O king, if you desire my precious daughter, I am ready to give her; but she is not to be given to you under ordinary terms. Her son must become king after you; he alone must be anointed as your successor—no other son of yours.” Hearing these words, Shantanu became troubled with anxiety. Thinking of Gangeya, he could not reply at that moment.