Episode 10 of her silent meditation had begun.
Prasuti stared, silent.
"Then I will leave these halls," she said simply.
"He drank poison to save us," Sati whispered, her voice steady. "He held the halahala in his palm and swallowed the death of the universe so that creation could breathe. And you call that madness?"
She walked into the forest. Her silk slippers tore. Thornbushes scratched her arms. But with every step, she repeated his name: Om Namah Shivaya. The syllables became her armor.
That night, under a moon that seemed to mirror Shiva’s crescent, Sati sneaked to the edge of the palace grounds. A guard stopped her. "Princess, the king has forbidden any mention of the name 'Shiva' in these halls."
"I have come home," she replied, kneeling.
The air in King Daksha’s court was thick with incense and flattery. But Princess Sati felt none of it. Her eyes were fixed on the far window, beyond the pillars and the courtiers, toward the wild, white peaks of Kailash.
Shiva tilted his head. "Your father will curse the stars. Your sisters will weep. The world will call it an elopement of shame."
