Karna sat still on the throne, his face calm and unmoving, yet his thoughts moved like a storm beneath the surface. Vrishaketu had already grown restless on his lap, his little fingers tugging at Karna's sleeve, but even the child's innocent movements could not pull Karna away from the weight that had just been placed before him.
Four crore eighty-two lakh.
Ninety lakh deficit every year.
Numbers that sounded simple when spoken, yet carried the sharpness of a blade.
Karna leaned back slightly, his gaze lowering as if he was staring at the floor, but in truth, he was staring at the past.
When he first established Dakshina Kalinga, he had stood before Lord Kubera's emissaries with the confidence of a warrior king.
He had taken that enormous loan without hesitation, not out of greed, but out of necessity. A kingdom could not rise from dust without gold. Walls could not be built with prayers. Roads could not be laid with devotion. Soldiers could not be fed with ideals.
He had believed the repayment would be easy.
At the time, his mind had been clear. Taxes would come. Trade would grow. Wealth would return naturally. Kubera's interest would be paid on time. Dakshina Kalinga would rise like the sun.
And for years, it had.
The roads were built. The towns were growing. The granaries were full. The army was disciplined. Schools were thriving. Women walked with less fear in their eyes. Even the poorest men in the markets spoke with pride because their king knew their names.
Karna had seen the treasury overflowing and never once felt worried.
He had thought it would always remain like that.
But wealth was strange.
It did not disappear in one blow.
It vanished in thousands of small cuts.
A new fort here.
A new irrigation canal there.
Weapons.
Horses.
Elephants.
Grain storage.
Emergency supplies.
Donations to temples.
Donations to widows.
Relief for farmers.
Relief for drought seasons.
Wages for scholars.
Wages for soldiers.
Wages for builders.
And then…
His queens.
Karna's gaze flickered briefly, and a tired thought rose in his mind.
Dhavani…
He almost sighed, remembering her smiling face and the endless parade of ornaments, silk sarees, bangles, gemstones, perfumes, and paintings she insisted on collecting. Of his three queens, she is the one who loves luxuries the most.
But then again, Mrinalini grew up as a warrior in a devotional place like Kashi. Sumedha was a scholar. On the other hand, Dhavani grew up as the princess of the wealthiest and mightiest kingdom in the entire Bharatvarsh.
Karna also never said no to her. Whatever she wanted, he bought it for her if it made her happy. Just the wealth she carries alone crosses more than 40 lakh gold coins...
And now, the cost was written in the Revenue Minister's ledger like a curse.
Karna looked up slowly, his eyes drifting over the ministers.
They were all watching him carefully in waiting, because they knew the next decision could shape the next decade of Dakshina Kalinga's future. They all wanted him to agree with the tax collection. Based on the prosperity that common folk are enjoying in the kingdom, even a minimal tax would bring in more than 50 lakhs of gold coins of revenue each year. And if merchants were investigated strictly regarding their earrings, it would double up.
Karna's fingers, however, tightened against the armrest in pressure.
For the first time in a long while, he felt the weight of being king.
A kingdom would not collapse only when enemies attacked.
A kingdom could also collapse when it grew too compassionate to measure its own limits.
Karna's mind began searching for paths forward.
If he doesn't want to go back on his promise to his citizens regarding the tax collection, then there are only a few paths left for him. The first path is the Expansion.
Conquer neighboring territories and bring wealth back to Kanipura.
If he marched his army, if he captured lands, if he seized gold, the treasury would overflow again. The deficit would vanish like mist under the sun.
But the thought left bitterness in his chest.
It felt… wrong.
He was a Kshatriya. War was not forbidden to him. In fact, war was part of his dharma.
Yet he knew the difference between war for dharma and war for wealth.
War to destroy adharma was justice.
War to steal gold, however, was robbery wearing a crown.
Even if the world called it a conquest, Karna would still feel it as theft.
His people would prosper, yes.
But at whose cost?
At the cost of another kingdom's tears.
At the cost of another farmer's burned field.
At the cost of another mother's son dying in the mud.
Karna's jaw tightened.
No.
That path was not for him.
Then his thoughts moved to another possibility.
Trade.
Increase production.
Encourage farmers to grow more crops, more harvests, more surplus. Push the fishermen to catch more fish, more sea animals, and more wealth from the waters.
The numbers would rise quickly.
The deficit could be covered without war.
But even that idea tasted wrong.
Karna remembered the fishermen he spoke with every morning, the men whose hands smelled of river and salt, whose backs bent under nets and baskets. He remembered how he often told them not to be greedy, not to drain the river like a starving beast.
Catch only what you need.
Let the waters breathe.
Let the fish live.
Because if humans became greedy today, tomorrow the river would punish them with emptiness.
If he now ordered them to catch more, just to fill his treasury, then his own words would become hypocrisy.
His kingdom would grow rich.
But the rivers and seas would become silent.
Karna's eyes darkened slightly.
No.
That path was also like a poison.
His mind shifted again.
Divya Sankalpa Siddhi.
He had the power to create wealth through divine will. If he mastered it properly, he could produce gold, enough to fund the Sarvadevalaya and more.
It would solve everything.
No tax.
No war.
No pressure on trade.
Just gold.
However, at the moment, the things he could create only stay temporary.
To make them permanent using the power of his siddhis would require intense Tapasya that might take time. It could be days, months, or who knows… might even take years, which he wasn't ready for...
Then another thought rose, quieter but tempting.
Tapasya to Goddess Lakshmi instead.
Pray to her and ask for abundance so Dakshina Kalinga would never face a shortage.
If Lakshmi blessed the kingdom, then gold would flow like river water. Trade would flourish. Crops would bloom. The treasury would fill without effort.
But Karna's eyes narrowed.
A man who never struggled for food never understood hunger.
A man who never struggled for wealth never understood the worth of a single coin.
If a kingdom became too rich, too comfortable, its people would slowly forget discipline. They would lose gratitude. They would become lazy, spoiled, and arrogant.
And then adharma would rise not through invaders, but through the softness of prosperity itself.
So, that idea was also foolish, even if his intentions were correct.
Karna leaned back slightly, staring ahead, finding the idea of the Sarvadevalaya felt heavy.
Meanwhile, the court remained silent for a long time.
No one dared to interrupt Karna's thoughts. Even the ministers who usually rushed to speak, to flatter, to agree loudly, sat still with their mouths shut. They had seen this expression on their king's face before. It was not anger. It was not confusion. It was the quiet heaviness of a man who carried an entire kingdom inside his chest.
Karna's gaze stayed fixed ahead, but his mind was still wrestling with invisible enemies. The Sarvadevalaya had been declared. His heart had already accepted it. Yet the numbers spoken by the revenue minister were not lies.
Even devotion had its limits.
And that was when a voice finally broke the silence.
"Maharaj."
The tone was calm, composed, and soft, yet it carried enough confidence that every minister immediately turned their head toward the source.
Sumedha.
Karna's third queen stood up slowly, her hands folded politely. She did not speak like a woman seeking attention. She spoke like a scholar who had already solved the problem while others were still staring at it.
Karna's eyes shifted toward her.
"Yes, Rani Sumedha," he said. "Please speak."