Chapter 350 - 348: Gifts From The Citizens...

(A/N):

Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.

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With the marriage ceremony finally completed, the atmosphere within the royal arena slowly shifted from the solemnity of sacred rituals to the warmth of celebration.

The musicians began playing lively melodies once again, the flowers that had been arranged around the stage seemed to glow beneath the countless lamps, and the citizens of Trivenivrata filled the arena with cheerful voices.

Devara remained on the stage with Yami and Indhumati beside him, receiving blessings from elders and relatives, when one of the royal attendants approached and quietly informed him that the citizens had begun bringing their wedding gifts for their king.

Devara raised an eyebrow in surprise.

He had never announced any marriage tax, nor had he asked his people to bring anything for the occasion.

In fact, when the preparations for the wedding had begun, he had specifically ordered that no citizen should feel obligated to spend their hard-earned wealth merely because their king was getting married.

The wedding was meant to be a celebration, not another burden placed upon the people.

Yet, despite his orders, the citizens had apparently decided among themselves that they wanted to give something to their king.

At the designated area near the edge of the arena, a long line had already begun forming.

Farmers arrived carrying baskets filled with freshly harvested fruits, grains and vegetables.

Merchants brought beautifully crafted objects from their shops, while craftsmen presented wooden carvings, ornaments, small sculptures and tools that they had made with their own hands.

Some families had brought silk cloth, handmade vessels and other household articles.

There were even elderly citizens who had brought simple gifts wrapped carefully in pieces of cloth, things that possessed little monetary value but had clearly been preserved with great affection.

The royal attendants carefully received every offering and placed them in the designated area, but Devara soon noticed something that made him smile far more than any expensive present could have.

Children had begun appearing in the line.

Some came holding small wooden toys that they had clearly made themselves.

One little boy proudly carried a wooden horse with uneven legs and a crooked tail, while another child brought a small wooden sword that looked as though someone had carved it with considerably more enthusiasm than skill.

A little girl approached while clutching a few flowers she had gathered herself, her hands trembling slightly as she looked toward the king.

Another child brought a handful of mangoes, while yet another arrived carrying two small bananas, holding them carefully with both hands as though they were priceless treasures.

One particularly small boy approached the attendants with a wooden spinning top.

He looked at the enormous pile of gifts surrounding him and then nervously glanced toward the royal stage.

"I made this myself,"

He said quietly.

"It is for our king."

The attendant smiled and accepted it, but before he could place it with the other gifts, Devara noticed the child from the stage.

"Wait."

The attendant immediately stopped.

Devara stepped down from the stage, surprising everyone around him.

Yami and Indhumati watched him with gentle smiles as he walked toward the child.

The little boy suddenly became nervous when the king himself approached him.

Devara crouched down until they were at the same height and looked at the wooden spinning top.

"You made this?" he asked.

The boy nodded.

"Did you make it alone?"

Another nervous nod followed.

Devara turned the little object over in his hand, examining the rough carving and the small imperfections in its shape.

There was nothing extraordinary about it.

It contained no jewels, no divine craftsmanship and no precious metal.

It was simply a child’s wooden toy.

Yet Devara smiled as though the boy had handed him a treasure.

"This is one of the finest gifts I have received today."

The boy’s eyes widened.

"Really?"

"Really,"

Devara replied with a smile.

"Because you gave me something you made with your own hands. That makes it precious."

The child’s face immediately lit up.

Devara gently placed his hand on the boy’s head before returning the spinning top to him for a moment.

"Keep it safe until I finish receiving the other gifts. Then you can give it to me yourself."

The boy nodded enthusiastically and hurried back toward his family, practically bouncing with happiness.

That small moment spread through the children like wildfire.

Suddenly more of them wanted to approach the king personally.

A little girl came forward with a clay figure of an elephant, explaining proudly that she had made it herself.

Another child brought a garland of flowers that was slightly uneven because he had woven it without anyone’s help.

One young girl shyly offered Devara three guavas from her family’s garden.

"My mother said these are the sweetest ones," she whispered.

Devara accepted them with both hands.

"Then your mother knows exactly what she is doing."

The girl giggled.

From the stage, Yami watched the scene with warmth in her eyes.

She had heard stories about Devara’s relationship with his people, but witnessing it herself was different.

He did not look at the gifts according to their value.

A merchant’s expensive ornament and a child’s crooked wooden toy received the same respect from him because, to Devara, the value of a gift was not measured by gold.

It was measured by the heart that had given it.

Indhumati also watched quietly, her smile growing as another group of children approached their king.

She understood then why the people loved him so deeply.

Devara could have simply remained upon the stage and allowed the attendants to receive everything on his behalf.

Instead, he was walking among his people, speaking to them, accepting their simple offerings personally and making each person feel that what they had brought truly mattered.

The line continued to grow.

Some citizens brought expensive gifts because they could afford them.

Others brought modest gifts because that was what their circumstances allowed.

And some brought almost nothing at all except their blessings.

Yet Devara accepted every offering with the same gratitude.

At one point, an elderly farmer approached carrying a small sack of grain.

"Mahārāja,"

the old man said, bowing deeply,

"this is from my harvest. It is not much."

Devara immediately took the sack from his hands before the attendants could do so.

"Then I will accept it with even greater pride."

The farmer looked surprised.

Devara smiled at him.

"A king can receive gold from a wealthy man without ever knowing how difficult it was to earn. But when a farmer gives grain from his harvest, I know exactly what it means. This fed your family, and yet you chose to share some of it with me. How could I call that little?"

The old man’s eyes became moist.

"May you and your wives always remain blessed, Mahārāja."

"And may your fields always remain fertile," Devara replied.

The farmer bowed again before stepping away.

More citizens followed.

The royal attendants soon found themselves struggling to organize the growing collection of gifts.

The pile became so large that additional tables had to be brought in.

Yet Devara never once appeared irritated by the unexpected abundance.

Instead, he watched his people with quiet affection, occasionally laughing when a particularly unusual gift appeared.

When one child finally presented him with a wooden toy tiger missing one of its ears, Devara examined it seriously before looking at the boy.

"This tiger looks dangerous."

The boy grinned.

"I made it strong."

Devara nodded solemnly.

"I can see that. Even the tiger’s ear was too frightened to remain."

The surrounding citizens burst into laughter, while the boy laughed so hard that he nearly dropped the toy.

Yami covered her smile with her hand, while Indhumati quietly laughed beside her.

Devara looked over the crowd then, seeing farmers, craftsmen, merchants, elders, women, young men and children, all standing together beneath the wedding decorations they themselves had helped create.

He finally understood that these gifts were not really gifts for a king.

They were gifts from a family to one of their own.

And for Devara, that made every single one of them priceless.

Once the gifts from the citizens had been received, Devara turned his attention toward the enormous gathering of people who were still standing around the arena.

The wedding feast had been prepared on a scale large enough to feed the entire kingdom, with long rows of tables stretching across the designated dining grounds, countless varieties of food arranged upon them, and servants moving continuously between the kitchens and the serving areas.

The fragrance of freshly prepared dishes had already begun drifting through the arena, making even those who had been too absorbed in the wedding celebrations suddenly realize how hungry they were.

Devara raised his hand, and the conversations gradually quieted.

"My people,"

he called, his voice carrying easily across the arena,

"today is not merely the day on which I married Yami and Indhumati. It is a day of celebration for the entire kingdom. You have all given us your blessings, and many of you have even brought gifts despite the fact that I never asked you to do so. For that, I am grateful beyond words. But there is one thing I will not accept from you today."

The citizens looked at him curiously.

"No one is leaving this celebration hungry."

A wave of laughter and cheers passed through the crowd.

"Go to the wedding feast and eat to your heart’s content. Do not hesitate because you think you are eating too much."

"Today, the kitchens belong to all of you. If you want another serving, take another serving. If you want sweets, take them."

"If you want to sit with your family and talk until the lamps burn low, then do so. This feast was prepared for the people of Trivenivrata, and I want every one of you to enjoy it."

The crowd erupted into cheers.

"Long live King Devara!"

"May our king be blessed!"

"May Goddess Yami and Princess Indhumati be blessed!"

The sound rolled through the arena as families began making their way toward the dining areas.

Children immediately dragged their parents along, apparently taking their king’s command to eat "to their heart’s content" as a sacred decree.

Servants smiled as they began serving the guests, while the musicians resumed their lively performance.

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(Author note:)

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