Tormented by desire and weighed down with anxiety, King Śantanu returned to his palace. So disturbed was his heart that, upon entering his home, he neither bathed nor took food, nor did sleep come to him. His mind was restless and troubled. Devavrata, his noble son, saw his father in this state of distress and approached him with concern. Bowing respectfully, Devavrata asked, “Father, what is the cause of your sorrow? Who is this unconquerable enemy that I must subdue for you? What weighs upon your mind, O tiger among kings? Speak openly, for I am your son and stand ready to act.” He continued, “What is the use of a son who neither perceives his father’s suffering nor strives to remove it? A son is born to bear the burdens of his father’s past karma; of this there is no doubt. Even Rāma, son of Daśaratha, obeyed his father’s command and gave up the throne, journeying to the forest with Lakṣmaṇa and Jānakī, to the mountain called Citrakūṭa. And Rohita, son of King Hariścandra, was sold by his own father and lived as a slave in a brāhmaṇa’s house. Likewise, Śunaḥśepa, son of Jīgarta, was bought by his father, tied to the sacrificial post, and later released by the son of Gādhi. It is also well known that Jāmadagnya, at his father’s command, once cut off his mother’s head, though the act was wrongful—such is the weight of a father’s word. O king, my body belongs not to me but to you. Tell me, what must I do? While I am here, you need not grieve; I will accomplish even the impossible for you.” With deep resolve, Devavrata assured his father, “Tell me, father, what troubles you? Today, I will remove your sorrow, taking up my bow if needed. If my body can fulfill your purpose, let your wish not go unfulfilled. Shame be upon that son who, though capable, does not fulfill his father’s cherished desire. What use is there in such a son, who, though born, does not relieve his father’s distress?” Hearing these words, King Śantanu, his heart filled with embarrassment, finally spoke to his son. “My son, my greatest anxiety is that you are my only child. You are brave, strong, and proud, yet you turn away from battle. My life depends on you alone; if you were to die in battle, what would become of me, bereft of support? This is the cause of my sorrow—there is no other worry I have, and I speak it before you now.” Devavrata, however, sensed there was more to his father’s grief. He turned to the aged ministers and said, “The king does not speak the whole truth, overwhelmed by embarrassment. Go to him, ask about his concerns, and speak to me truthfully of what you learn. Tell me everything, and I will act without hesitation.” The ministers approached the king, learned the true reason for his sorrow, and returned to inform Devavrata, who pondered the matter deeply. Without delay, he went with them to the house of the fisherman. Bowing respectfully, the son of Jahnavi addressed the fisherman with gentle words: “Give your daughter to my father today. I request that the fair-waisted maiden become my mother, and I will be her servant, O scorcher of foes.” The fisherman replied, “Take her, O greatly fortunate prince, and make her your wife; but know that her son shall not become king while you live.” Devavrata vowed, “This daughter of the fisherman shall be my mother. I will not take the kingdom; her son alone shall rule, without doubt.” Still, the fisherman hesitated, saying, “I know your words are true, but your son will be strong, and surely, by his strength, he will claim the kingdom.” Devavrata then made his renowned vow: “I will never marry, in any way. My words are true, O father. I have taken the vow of Bhīṣma.” Hearing this terrible and selfless vow, the fisherman joyfully gave his radiant daughter, Satyavatī, to King Śantanu. Thus, by the noble sacrifice of Bhīṣma, Satyavatī was united with Śantanu. The king, however, did not know then of the future birth of Vyāsa. In time, Satyavatī bore Śantanu two sons, but both were taken by the force of fate and died young. Thereafter, from the seed of Vyāsa was born Dhṛtarāṣṭra, who was blind, for the woman, when she saw the sage, closed her eyes in modesty. When Vyāsa appeared again, the king’s daughter turned pale with fear, and from Vyāsa’s anger was born Pāṇḍu—of this, there is no doubt. Then, pleased with the maidservant who served with understanding, Vyāsa begot Vidura, a portion of Dharma, truthful and pure. Though Pāṇḍu was the younger, he was established as king by the ministers, for Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s blindness made him unfit for rule. With Bhīṣma’s approval, Pāṇḍu ascended the throne, and Vidura, wise and discerning, was appointed as counselor. Dhṛtarāṣṭra had two wives: Gandhārī, the daughter of Subala, and a Vaishya woman, skilled in household duties. Pāṇḍu also had two wives: Kuntī, daughter of Śūrasena, and Mādrī, born in the land of Madra. Gandhārī gave birth to one hundred splendid sons, while the Vaishya woman bore a beloved son named Yuyutsu. Kuntī, while still a maiden in her father’s house, first bore Karṇa, radiant in form, from the Sun; later, she was married to Pāṇḍu. Hearing this, the sages interrupted, filled with wonder: “O Sūta, what is this marvelous thing you recount? Kuntī had a son before her marriage to Pāṇḍu. How was Karṇa born from the Sun in a maiden? Tell us in detail—how was she again a maiden and then married to Pāṇḍu?” Sūta replied: “Kuntī, daughter of Śūrasena, was, as a child, requested as a maiden by King Kuntibhoja. She was adopted as his daughter and, with a gentle smile, was appointed to serve the radiant sage.” Thus, the noble line of the Kurus continued, shaped by the vows, sacrifices, and destinies of kings, sages, and their virtuous wives.