When the king was slain in battle, his head severed, he fell to the earth, and all his forces were routed, scattering in every direction. News of this calamity reached Manorama, and upon hearing that her father had been killed at the height of combat, she was seized by terror. The memory of her father’s enmity and the dangers it brought overwhelmed her with fear. Her thoughts turned anxiously to Yudhajit, whose wicked intentions she knew well. “Out of greed for the kingdom,” she thought, “Yudhajit will surely seek to kill my son.” This fear consumed her heart. “What shall I do, where can I go?” she lamented. “My father has been slain in battle, my husband too has died today, and my son is but a helpless child.” She reflected bitterly on the power of greed. “Greed is exceedingly wicked—who is not ensnared by it? Even the noblest of kings, when possessed by greed, will commit terrible deeds. One seized by desire may kill father, mother, brothers, teachers, relatives, and friends, without a second thought. Driven by craving, a person will eat what should not be eaten, go where one should not go, and abandon righteousness.” Manorama realized her vulnerability: “I have no powerful ally in this city. As long as I remain here, I must protect my noble son. But if the king kills my son today, what will I do then? I have no protector in this world to keep me safe.” She feared Lilavati, ever hostile, would become her rival and show no compassion to her son. “If Yudhajit arrives, I will have no escape. Seeing my son is only a child, he will imprison him today.” Her mind raced with stories she had heard: “It is said that once, a king of this city cut a child in his mother’s womb into seven pieces, and those seven became sevenfold. Entering the womb, he made a small blade in his hand, and thus, forty-nine Maruts arose in heaven. Another time, a co-wife gave poison to the king’s wife to destroy her fetus, and the boy was born with poison in his body—thus he became known as Sagara throughout the world. When her husband was alive, Kaikeyi, the king’s wife, caused Rama, the eldest, to be exiled, and King Dasharatha died.” She realized that the ministers were powerless. “Those who wish to make my son Sudarshana king are under Yudhajit’s control. My brother is not so valiant as to free me from captivity. By the force of fate, I have encountered great suffering.” Yet, she resolved, “Nevertheless, effort must always be made, for success arises from destiny. Today, I will quickly devise a means to protect my son.” With this determination, Manorama summoned Vidalla, a minister renowned for his pride, skill, and wisdom. In private, overwhelmed by sorrow, holding her young son in her arms and weeping, she spoke to Vidalla: “My father has been slain in battle, and this child is my son. King Yudhajit is powerful—tell me, what should be done?” Vidalla replied, “We must not remain here. Let us go at once to the forest near Varanasi. There, your maternal uncle Subahu, renowned and powerful, dwells. He will be our protector. With your mind set, you must leave the city, mount the chariot, and depart—there is no doubt.” Following Vidalla’s counsel, the queen went to Lilavati and said, “O fair-eyed one, today I am going to see my father.” Having said this, she mounted the chariot with her maid and Vidalla, and departed the city. Frightened, deeply distressed, and grieving for her father, she saw King Yudhajit and her father, both now lifeless. Quickly, trembling and filled with fear, she performed the funeral rites and in two days reached the bank of the sacred Bhagirathi. There, cruel robbers of the Nishada tribe seized all their wealth and even took their chariot. Weeping and carrying her son, adorned in beautiful garments, Manorama set forth, supported by her faithful maid, along the bank of the Jahnavi. Driven by fear, she quickly boarded a boat, crossed the holy Bhagirathi, and made her way to Mount Trikuta. Hastening and still afraid, she reached the hermitage of the sage Bharadvaja. There, upon seeing the ascetics, she finally felt some measure of safety. The sage Bharadvaja approached her and asked, “Who are you? Whose wife are you? How have you come here with such difficulty? Speak the truth, O pure-smiling one. Are you a goddess or a human, dwelling here in the forest with your young son? O lotus-eyed one with lovely thighs, why do you appear as if deprived of your kingdom?” Thus questioned, Manorama, radiant but overwhelmed by sorrow, could not reply. She wept and signaled to Vidalla to speak on her behalf. Vidalla addressed the sage: “This is Manorama, the lawful wife of King Dhruvasandhi, the foremost of kings. The mighty king of the Solar dynasty was slain by a lion; this boy is his son, Sudarshana. Her father, supremely righteous, died in battle for the sake of his grandson. Terrified by Yudhajit, she has come to this lonely forest. With her young son, the princess has taken refuge in you alone. O most fortunate sage, be her protector.” Thus, in her time of greatest hardship, Manorama sought sanctuary for herself and her son under the protection of the noble sage.