Vartika's office didn't try to look powerful.

It simply was.

Floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooked the restless city below, but up here, everything felt distant - muted, manageable, obedient. Soft grey walls, perfectly aligned shelves holding rows of legal files like silent soldiers waiting for command. Nothing unnecessary. Nothing sentimental.

The desk - sleek dark wood - remained almost obsessively clean, except for a single fountain pen, a closed laptop, and a neatly stacked pile of case documents that carried more weight than their paper should allow.

It was the kind of room that spoke without sound: control over chaos, order over feeling, victory over vulnerability.

And yet - sometimes, when the city lights reflected faintly in the glass behind her - the office looked less like a throne and more like a beautifully designed cage she had locked from the inside.

Today the room was just as orderly. And yet something inside it felt quietly unsettled - like a verdict waiting to be spoken but refusing to arrive.

She sat behind her desk with the river case file open before her.

Numbers. Dates. Laboratory seals. Medical summaries written in language too clinical for the suffering they described. Children with damaged kidneys. Farmers whose soil had turned sterile. Women walking miles for water that did not poison.

Facts strong enough to shake a courtroom. Evidence that should have been impossible to ignore.

Once, these pages had felt powerful in her hands - sharp with purpose, certain with direction.

Now they felt suspended. Like truth placed carefully inside a drawer and closed without explanation.

Kalyani's voice lingered at the edge of memory - fragile, pleading, absolute.

A promise without questions. The words had sounded like protection. Like love wrapped in urgency.

But sitting here now, surrounded by poisoned water reports and the silence of a missing girl, another possibility began to surface - quiet, unwanted, undeniable.

What if the promise was not protecting her... but protecting the truth from being found?

The river was poisoned.

The girl was missing. And somewhere between the two lay a truth important enough for someone to erase evidence in daylight.

Vartika closed the file gently.

Not in defeat.

Not in acceptance.

But because looking at the truth without the power to act on it felt like a different kind of violence.

Her hands remained still on the desk.

Hope had disappeared in a hospital room. In its place, something colder was forming.

Not despair.

Not anger.

Resolve.

The quiet kind that does not announce itself - only waits for the right moment to move.

The silence had only just settled when a soft knock sounded on the door. Once. Measured. Almost polite.

Before Vartika could respond, the handle turned.

Only one person carried the confidence to enter her office without waiting for permission - and still make it look intentional rather than rude.

Neil stepped inside as if the space already knew him.

Impeccably dressed.

Unhurried.

Calm in a way that felt less like peace and more like control carefully disguised.

In his hand - a bouquet of white lilies.

Fresh.

Elegant.

Completely out of place in a room that allowed no softness to survive.

Vartika didn't look surprised. Her gaze lifted slowly from the desk to him, steady and unreadable.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

Neil closed the door gently behind him.

The faint click echoed more than it should have.

Then he walked forward, each step unhurried, and stopped across her desk, placing the bouquet down with deliberate care.

White against dark wood.

Softness against restraint.

"For what?" she asked.

The calm of someone who preferred clarity over gestures.

Neil considered the question with an expression almost thoughtful. "Condolences," he said at last. "For your loss."

Nothing in his tone explained which loss he meant. The case. Or the quiet control she was known for.

"If this is an attempt at sympathy," she said evenly, "it's poorly researched."

A faint curve touched the corner of his mouth. "I never attempt sympathy. I find it inefficient."

"That explains a lot."

Neil's gaze moved briefly to the closed file on her desk, then back to her eyes. "You walked away faster than I expected," he said. Accusation. Not curiosity.

"Cases end," she said finally. "That's how law works."

"Do they?" he asked quietly. The question lingered longer than it should have. As if he weren't talking about law at all.

"If you came here to discuss professional philosophy, you should schedule an appointment like everyone else."

Neil tilted his head slightly, studying her - not the way opposing lawyers studied weaknesses in court, but the way someone examined a puzzle missing one piece.

"Relax," he murmured. "I didn't come to argue."

"No," she said coolly. "Toh phir fool bechne aye ho?" [Then you've come to sell flowers?]

That earned the smallest real smile from him - brief, gone almost instantly.

"Hum dono jaante hain tum ye case itni aasani se nahi chhodogi." [We both know you won't let go of this case so easily.] The change in subject was sudden - but not random.

Vartika noticed. She noticed everything.

"And that concerns me how?" she asked.

"I have a feeling," he said, voice low and certain, "Kahin Vartika Singh dar ke pith piche se toh hamla nahi karne wali."

[I hope Vartika Singh isn't planning to attack from behind out of fear.]

Her posture stiffened. "I was fortunate enough to be raised well enough. Aapki parwarish mein kami rahi hogi, meri mein nahi, advocate sahab. Pith piche var karna maine kabhi nahi seekha - par agar aap apne se junior advocate se iss kadar dare hue hain toh that shows a lot about your bravery."

[There must have been a lack in your upbringing, not mine, advocate sir. I never learned to attack from behind - but if you're this afraid of a junior advocate, that says a lot about your courage.]

A faint unease moved through the stillness of the room - subtle enough to ignore, strong enough to remain. Because somewhere beyond this office, beyond flowers and unfinished arguments, events had already begun shifting - quietly, irreversibly - toward a place neither of them had chosen.

He smiled wider than before, looking down while chuckling. "Well that's something I miss in my other opponents, Miss Singh. Aab toh aapke pith piche se kiye hue var ko bhi hum raazi khushi face karenge."

[Well now I'll happily face even attacks from behind by you.]

Keeping his hands in his pockets, he turned and left.

The door had barely closed behind Neil when the room felt different again. Not peaceful. Just empty in a quieter way.

________________________

The mansion driveway looked unreal.

Polished marble glowing under warm lights. Two long black luxury cars waiting with engines humming softly. A convoy of security ahead and behind. The kind of wealth that didn't scream. It simply existed.

And right in the center of that royal calm - total family-level chaos.

"MEHAK, STOP TOUCHING MY HAIR!" Nisha almost shouted, trying to escape her grip.

"I'm fixing it! Tu function mein ja rahi hai, school assembly mein nahi," [You're going to a function, not a school assembly,] Mehak argued, completely serious.

"MY HAIR WAS PERFECT!"

"Perfect nahi tha. Emotional disturbance ho raha tha dekh ke."

[It wasn't perfect. It was emotionally disturbing to look at.]

Vartika stood beside them, calm face, tired soul. She looked like someone silently calculating how difficult it would be to legally disown friends.

"Tum dono bus paanch minute chup reh sakti ho?" [Can you both stay quiet for five minutes?] she asked softly.

"No." Same timing. Same confidence.

Vartika closed her eyes. One deep breath. Inner peace - rejected again.

"Arre itna drama toh meri shaadi mein bhi nahi hua tha," [There wasn't this much drama at my own wedding,] Lavanya laughed, walking toward them.

"Because aapki shaadi sadiyon pahele hui thi, Mom. Hum log upgraded generation hain."

[Because your wedding happened centuries ago, Mom. We're an upgraded generation.]

Manav adjusted his watch calmly. "Upgraded? Volume zyada hai bas." [Upgraded? Just the volume is more.]

Mehak gasped. "Papa ne roast kar diya!" [Papa roasted me!]

Kalyani, who had been quietly watching Vartika, finally spoke - "Driver bechara soch raha hoga paisa zyada hai ya patience." [The poor driver must be wondering if the money is worth more than the patience.]

Even Vartika's lips curved slightly at that.

"IMPORTANT QUESTION," Nisha suddenly announced, raising a finger dramatically.

Manav sighed. "Ab kya hua?" [Now what?]

"Yeh function hai kiska??" [Whose function is this??]

Three seconds of silence.

Mehak blinked. "Aapko bhi nahi pata?" [You don't know either?]

"MUJHE laga tujhe pata hi hoga kahin se bhi khabar jo dhundh ke le aati hai!" [I thought YOU would know, since you somehow always find information from somewhere!]

Manav looked at Kalyani. Kalyani looked at Lavanya. Lavanya looked at Manav again.

Mehak slowly whispered, "Matlab... hum teeno mein se kisi ko bhi nahi pata??" [Meaning... none of the three of us know??]

Manav cleared his throat with fake dignity.

"It's a... 'family function.'"

Nisha stared. "Bas?? FAMILY FUNCTION?? Kaunsi family?? Hum aliens ke ghar ja rahe hain kya??" [That's it?? FAMILY FUNCTION?? Whose family?? Are we going to an alien's house??]

Lavanya started laughing. Kalyani tried to stay serious - failed.

The driver opened the car doors politely. "Sir... ma'am..."

"Chalo chalo warna mystery function khatam ho jayega,"

[Come on come on, the mystery function will be over before we get there,]

Mehak said sarcastically, pushing Nisha forward.

"Main window seat lungi!" [I'm taking the window seat!]

"NO I'm taking it!"

"Vartika bolo na!" [Vartika, say something!]

"Main chalti gaadi se kud jaungi." [I'll jump out of the moving car.]

"Drama queen," Nisha muttered.

"Rich drama queen," Mehak corrected proudly.

Finally, seating disaster somehow settled. Elders in one car. Youngsters in the other. But windows rolled down - arguments still continuing between cars.

"Seatbelt lagao!" [Put your seatbelts on!] Lavanya shouted from the front car.

"Mom main bacchi nahi hoon!" [Mom I'm not a child!]

"Exactly isi liye bol rahi hoon!" [Exactly, that's why I'm saying it!]

Manav to driver, very calmly: "Aaram se chalao. Inhe zinda pahunchana zaroori hai." [Drive slowly. We need to deliver them alive.]

Kalyani's eyes shifted once more to Vartika in the other car - soft, worried, unreadable.

Then both cars began to move.

Two cars on the same road. One filled with laughter. One filled with quiet thoughts no one could hear.

And somewhere ahead - a night waiting to change everything.

Inside the first car, the world felt different.

No laughter. No teasing. Only the soft hum of the engine and the quiet weight of something long delayed.

Lavanya looked out of the window for a long moment before finally speaking, her voice lower than usual.

"Time aa gaya hai... hai na?" [The time has come... hasn't it?]

Manav didn't answer immediately. His fingers tapped once against his knee - slow, thoughtful, controlled.

"Shayad," he said quietly. "Par sawaal yeh hai... kya yeh sahi waqt hai?" [Perhaps. But the question is... is this the right time?]

Both of them looked toward Kalyani.

She had been silent since the cars started moving, eyes fixed ahead,

expression calm - too calm. The kind that only comes when a decision has already been made in the heart.

Lavanya's voice softened. "Woh kaise react karegi... jab use pata chalega?" [How will she react... when she finds out?]

For the first time, something flickered in Kalyani's eyes. Not fear. Not doubt. Just pain that had learned how to stay quiet.

"She doesn't need to know everything yet," Kalyani said slowly. Each word measured. Careful. Heavy. "What she learns tonight..." a small pause, almost invisible - "will be enough to shake her to the core."

Silence filled the car again.

Manav's jaw tightened slightly. "We still have a choice."

Kalyani finally turned her head toward him. "No," she said gently. "Humare paas ab choice nahi hai." [We no longer have a choice.]

The softness in her tone made the truth harsher.

Lavanya's fingers curled into the edge of her saree. "Agar woh toot gayi toh...?" [If she breaks...?]

Kalyani looked back at the road ahead. Her voice didn't break. But something inside it did.

"Phir usse sambhalna hoga."

[Then she'll have to manage.]

A breath. Barely there.

"Jaise hamesha sambhaalti hai."

[The way she always does.]

"Baar baar tot ke khud ko jode rakhne ka natak karti hai vo, Kalyani - hum sab jaante hain. Sambhalti nahi, pretend karti hai." Lavanya said.

[She keeps pretending to hold herself together after breaking repeatedly, Kalyani - we all know. She doesn't manage, she pretends.]

"Usse strong banane ke liye tumne usse pura tod diya, Kalyani. Aur aab shayad bachi khuchi Vartika bhi jo jinda hai khatam ho jaaye." Manav said.

[To make her strong, you completely broke her, Kalyani. And now maybe even the little of Vartika that's still alive inside will be destroyed.]

"Main bas apna kiya wada pura kar rahi hoon. Dusra option nahi tha. Agar mere bas mein hota kuch bhi toh aaj Vartika aisi na hoti. Tarika galat ho par uska aisa bana zaroori tha - abhi uski zindagi mein jo badlaav aayenge unhe jhelne ke liye. Aab usse aur chupaya nahi ja sakta uss duniya se jahan vo raj karne wali hai.

Aur ye duniya aur ye log ye kaam uske liye asaan toh bilkul nahi hone denge -

ye baat unhe pata thi, isliye itne saal ka tap kiya hai usne.

Main koi mahan maa nahi hun, ye tum dono jaante ho. Na mujhe inn sab se fark padta tha. Main bus uss ek waade ke kaaran yahan hoon. Jaise hi ye kaam khatam ho, main ye sab chhod ke wapas chali jaungi - mujhe fark nahi padta Vartika kaise handle karegi ya nahi. Ye uski kismat ki galti hai."

[I am only fulfilling the promise I made. There was no other option. If I had any power, Vartika wouldn't be like this today. The method may be wrong but making her this way was necessary - to endure what's coming in her life. She can no longer be hidden from the world where she is meant to rule.

And this world and these people will make nothing easy for her -

they knew this,

which is why she has been tested for so many years.

I am not a great mother, you both know that. Nor did I ever care about any of this. I am here only because of one promise. The moment this work is done, I will leave all this behind - I don't care whether Vartika handles it or not. This is her fate's fault.]

Outside, the city lights kept passing - bright, unaware, ordinary. Inside the car, however, the past was finally catching up. And ahead of them waited a night that would not return anyone the same.

Now we leave the heavy silence behind and step into the other car - where absolutely no one knows that their world is about to change.

Only laughter.

Only chaos.

Only the last few minutes of normal.

Mehak suddenly leaned forward dramatically. "Guys, serious question."

Nisha narrowed her eyes. "Tumhare serious questions se mujhe allergy hai." [I'm allergic to your serious questions.]

"Shut up. Suno." [Shut up. Listen.]

She whispered loudly - "What if yeh koi secret royal rishta meeting nikli?" [What if this turns out to be some secret royal matchmaking meeting?]

Two seconds of silence. Then Nisha burst out laughing.

"Royal? Hum? Please. Agar royal hote na, toh main office nahi jaati... Switzerland jaati."

[Royal? Us? Please. If we were royal, I wouldn't go to the office... I'd go to Switzerland.]

Mehak gasped. "Excuse me, attitude dekho. Switzerland wali feel already aa rahi hai madam ko." [Excuse me, look at the attitude. Madam is already feeling Switzerland-level.]

Nisha flipped her hair. "Obviously.

Kuch logon jaisi gareeb vibes nahi deti main." [Obviously. I don't give off broke vibes like some people.]

"HELLO?!" Mehak clutched her heart.

"Indirectly mujhe gareeb bol

diya?!" [You indirectly called me broke?!]

"Indirectly nahi. Directly." [Not indirectly. Directly.]

"MAIN GAADI SE KUD JAUNGI." [I WILL JUMP OUT OF THE CAR.]

"Door me child lock hai. Try kar lo." [The door is locked. Try it.]

For the first time, a soft laugh actually escaped Vartika. Quiet. Short. But real.

Both girls froze.

Nisha squinted. "Wait... tu hasi?" [Wait... you laughed?]

Mehak leaned closer like a scientist observing a rare species. "Repeat karo. Evidence chahiye." [Repeat it. We need evidence.]

Vartika shook her head slightly, trying to hide the smile that refused to disappear. "Tum dono pagal ho." [You two are crazy.]

"Pagal nahi," Mehak corrected proudly, "Aapke pyaar mein pagal." [Not crazy - crazy in love with you.]

Nisha suddenly leaned back, arms crossed. "Waise ek baat batao..." her tone turned mock-serious, "agar yeh koi rishta-vishta nikla na... toh sabse pehle main bhaagungi." [By the way, tell me something... if this turns out to be some matchmaking thing... I'll be the first to run.]

"Main video banaungi," Mehak said instantly. "Viral karenge. Caption: rich girl runs from shaadi." [I'll make a video. We'll make it viral. Caption: rich girl runs from wedding.]

Nisha pointed at Vartika. "Isko nahi problem hogi. Yeh toh calm calm rehke shaadi bhi kar legi bina expression ke. Bina complaints ke - kyunki madam ji ke hisab se inhe bus guilty rehne ka haq hai aur khush hona bhi paap hai."

[She won't have a problem. She'd even get married calmly without any expression. Without any complaints - because according to madam, she only has the right to feel guilty and being happy is also a sin.]

Silence. Just for a moment. Because the joke somehow didn't feel like a joke.

Vartika's fingers tightened slightly around her phone. A feeling - strange, uninvited - passed quietly through her chest. Like something ahead was already waiting for her.

She looked out of the window. The road kept moving forward. Fast. Ce

rtain. Unstoppable.

Behind her, the laughter started again. Loud. Messy. Carefree.

None of them knowing this was the last stretch of innocence before truth entered their lives without permission.

"Mehak, seedha baith. Mere upar gir rahi hai tu." [Mehak, sit straight. You're falling on me.]

"Main gir nahi rahi, emotional support de rahi hoon." [I'm not falling, I'm providing emotional support.]

"Emotional support mein mera shoulder tod degi kya?" [Will you break my shoulder providing emotional support?]

"Tum dono meri gaadi barbad karke hi maanogi kya," [You two are determined to ruin my car, aren't you,] Vartika said calmly.

For two full seconds - silence. Then Mehak gasped dramatically. "NISHA. SUNA TUNE?? Yeh roast kar rahi hai mujhe!" [NISHA. DID YOU HEAR?? She's roasting me!]

Nisha clutched her heart. "Character development... I'm emotional."

"Tum dono overreact kar rahe ho," [You two are overreacting,] Vartika muttered.

"Overreact? Madam court mein

'OBJECTION MY LORD' chilla sakti hain, aur yahan hum overreact?"

[Overreact? Madam can shout 'OBJECTION MY LORD' in court, and here we're overreacting?]

"Woh professional hota hai." [That's professional.]

"Toh main bhi professional hoon. Main certified journalist hoon." [Then I'm professional too. I'm a certified journalist.]

Nisha suddenly leaned toward the driver. "Bhaiya, gaadi slow chalana." [Brother, drive slowly.]

"Kyuuun?" Mehak squinted. [Whyyy?]

"Taaki yeh moment lamba chale. Vartika jokes maar rahi hai. Rare solar eclipse hai."

[So this moment lasts longer. Vartika is cracking jokes. It's a rare solar eclipse.]

"Main utar jaungi," Vartika said flatly. [I'll get out.]

"Driver bhaiya, child lock on karo." [Brother, turn on the child lock.]

"MEHAK!"

"Safety first."

Mehak opened the chips packet. Nisha grabbed it. "Mera hai." [It's mine.]

"Family pack hai!" [It's a family pack!]

"Family mein main favourite child

hoon." [In the family I'm the favourite child.]

"Kisne bola?" [Who said?]

"Mummy ne." [Mummy did.]

"Jhooth. Papa ne mujhe secretly bola tha." [Lie. Papa secretly told me.]

"Papa sabko bolte hain taaki koi roye na." [Papa tells everyone so no one cries.]

Vartika deadpanned - "Scientific research ke hisaab se... tum dono ko bhookh nahi, bus drama chahiye - toh ye packet mera."

[According to scientific research... you two aren't hungry, you just want drama - so this packet is mine.]

"HAWWWW." "Personal attack." "Main complaint likh rahi hoon." [I'm filing a complaint.]

"Kis court mein?" [In which court?]

"Dil ke court mein." [The court of the heart.]

"Wahan bhi case haar jayegi tu," [You'll lose there too,] Nisha said.

Suddenly Mehak froze. "Guys. Mera charger kahan hai?" [Where is my charger?]

Nisha burst out laughing. "Ab yaad aaya? 20 minute se drama kar rahi thi."

[You remember now? You've been doing drama for 20 minutes.]

"Phone 3% pe hai! Agar main mar gayi toh?" [My phone is at 3%! What if I die?]

"Phone mar raha hai, tu nahi." [The phone is dying, not you.]

"Same thing hai." [It's the same thing.]

Vartika quietly pulled a charger from her bag and handed it over. Both girls stared.

"Tu... prepared rehti hai?" [You... stay prepared?]

"Obviously. Main tum dono ke saath travel kar rahi hoon." [Obviously. I'm travelling with you two.]

Nisha wiped fake tears. "True friendship is carrying an extra charger for stupid people."

Mehak hugged Vartika suddenly. "Aap best ho." [You're the best.]

"Door hat. Suffocate ho rahi hoon."

[Move away. I'm suffocating.]

"Emotions se problem hai aapko."

[You have a problem with emotions.]

"Tumhari emotions se hai."

[I have a problem with your emotions.]

She said - while hugging her back more tightly.

__________________________________

The chaos inside the car hadn't ended. It simply softened.

Because after hours of travel, the moment the convoy turned past the final curve of the private road - everything changed.

The city noise disappeared first. Then the traffic. Then even the sky felt quieter - as if the world itself knew this place didn't belong to ordinary time.

And ahead of them rose Chandrakot Palace.

Not just a palace. Not just an estate. It looked like something memory had built, not stone.

White marble stretched endlessly, glowing under the late-evening sun like moonlight had arrived early. Tall domes kissed the sky, each carved with ancient floral patterns so delicate they felt unreal. Golden jharokhas caught the light and scattered it across the courtyard like fragments of dawn. Water channels ran along both sides of the entrance pathway, their surfaces covered in floating rose petals and tiny diyas already lit - though sunset hadn't fully come yet.

Everything shimmered between day and night, reality and dream.

Even the air felt different.

Cooler.

Softer.

Heavy with the faint fragrance of raat-rani and sandalwood.

For the first time since the journey began - no one inside the car spoke.

Mehak's mouth slowly opened. Then a whisper escaped her - "Yeh... hotel hai ya swarg ka branch office?" [This... is it a hotel or a branch office of heaven?]

Nisha blinked twice, still staring outside. "Shaadi venue bola tha... yeh toh pura kingdom hai." [They said wedding venue... this is an entire kingdom.]

The gates alone were taller than buildings they passed every day - ornate ironwork layered with gold, opening silently as if recognizing the arriving cars. Servants in coordinated ivory attire stood in perfect lines along the driveway, heads slightly bowed - not submissive, but respectful in a way that spoke of old wealth. The kind that never needed to prove itself.

Vartika didn't say anything.

But something inside her shifted. A strange stillness. The kind that comes right before a storm you cannot see yet.

Her fingers tightened slightly over the edge of her seat. Not fear. Not awe. Just a quiet, unexplainable pull - like she had stepped into a place that already knew her. And didn't intend to let her leave unchanged.

The car doors opened slowly, one after another.

Cool evening air wrapped around them - soft, scented with jasmine and something older, something that didn't belong to the present at all.

For a brief second, none of them stepped forward. Because this didn't feel like entering a venue. It felt like stepping into a memory that had been waiting for years.

"Guys... sach mein bol rahi hoon," [Guys... I'm telling you seriously,] Mehak whispered, eyes wide, "agar yeh shaadi nahi hai na... toh phir definitely koi royal conspiracy chal rahi hai." [if this isn't a wedding then definitely some royal conspiracy is happening.]

Nisha exhaled softly. "Conspiracy ho ya na ho... budget dekh ke lag raha hai hum galat jagah aa gaye hain." [Conspiracy or not... looking at the budget it feels like we've come to the wrong place.]

Vartika didn't laugh. Her gaze had already moved past the lights, past the marble, past the music. Something inside her had gone still. Too still. The kind of stillness that comes before truth appears.

They walked toward the grand entrance. Attendants bowed silently. Golden lamps flickered along carved stone walls. Every detail whispered power, legacy, history. Not celebration. Lineage.

And that single difference made Vartika's chest feel tight in a way she couldn't explain.

The moment they stepped inside the central hall - time shifted.

High ceilings painted with ancient Mewar motifs. Crystal chandeliers pouring liquid gold into the air. Silence layered beneath soft music - like the walls themselves were listening.

But none of that held Vartika for long.

Because at the far end of the hall stood them.

Not guests. Not hosts.

Family.

Waiting.

The hall didn't feel grand because it was large. It felt grand because of who stood inside it.

The insignia of the House of Mewar was carved high above the central arch - a rising sun embossed in gold, its rays spreading across marble that had witnessed generations of rule, alliances, wars, and legacies.

And at the center of it stood Raghav Singh Rathore of Mewar.

Calm.

Measured.

The kind of authority that never needed to raise its voice.

Beside him - Nandini Singh Rathore.

Grace wrapped in steel. Warmth balanced with pride.

A few steps behind - Viraj Singh Rathore, the younger brother.

Softer smile. Same royal spine.

And Shailaja, poised and observant, eyes intelligent and quietly amused.

Vartika's breath slowed. She didn't know these people. And yet something in her chest reacted like recognition buried too deep to name.

Then - Kalyani stopped walking.

Not fully.

Just enough.

That tiny pause only a daughter could notice.

Vartika's eyes shifted to her mother's face - and what she saw there didn't belong to a formal gathering.

It belonged to years of separation. Soft trembling. Disbelief. Relief wrapped in pain.

Across the hall, Nandini's composure finally broke.

Her eyes filled before a single word left her lips.

"...Kalyani?"

The name echoed gently through the vast royal silence. Everything - music, movement, breath - seemed to pause around it.

Kalyani's smile appeared slowly. Fragile. Old. Real in a way Vartika had never seen before.

"...Nandini."

And just like that - distance lost its meaning. No formal greetings. No royal restraint. Only two women walking toward each other like time had failed to keep them apart.

When they embraced, it wasn't polite. It was tight.

Shaking.

Silent.

The kind of hug that carries years of unsaid apologies and unfinished love.

Raghav looked on quietly, emotion controlled but visible in the softness of his eyes.

Viraj lowered his gaze with a faint exhale - relief mixed with something heavier, perhaps guilt that had aged with time.

Shailaja pressed her fingers together, watching like someone witnessing a prayer finally answered.

No one spoke. Because some reunions are too sacred for words.

Behind them, Nisha's voice came out small - almost childlike. "Mom...? You... know them?"

But Vartika felt something entirely different. Not confusion. Not surprise.

Alignment. Like scattered pieces inside her mind were quietly sliding into place.

This reunion that felt too personal to be coincidence.

Realisation didn't strike like lightning. It rose slowly - cold and steady - like water filling a locked room.

This wasn't a social gathering. This was the past returning. And somehow - she was standing exactly at its centre.

Her heartbeat went quiet. Because deep inside - she knew.

After tonight, nothing in her life would remain the same.

Her eyes moved again - from Nandini, to Raghav, to the silent authority that surrounded them like an invisible crown.

And then - something clicked.

Rathore.

The name didn't arrive like a word. It arrived like a verdict. Cold. Legal. Final.

The same name written across files stacked on her desk.

Across petitions. Across accusations powerful enough to shake empires.

The same family she had been fighting in court.

Relentlessly.

Publicly.

Fearlessly.

Her breath stopped halfway.

Not because she was scared. Because suddenly everything made sense.

Her mother's silence.

The sudden insistence to withdraw the case.

The promise asked without explanation.

This invitation.

This palace.

This reunion wrapped in emotion instead of protocol.

It was never coincidence. It was connection.

And she had walked straight into it without knowing.

A strange calm spread through her chest.

The kind that comes when truth is too big for panic.

Her lawyer's mind reacted first. If they know who I am... if they know I'm the one fighting them...

The thought didn't finish. Because another realisation rose - quieter, deeper, more unsettling.

Her mother knew.

All this time, Kalyani had known. And still she had brought Vartika here.

A question formed - slow, heavy, unavoidable.

Why?

Why now?

Why this truth? Why ask her to leave the case... before bringing her face-to-face with the very people behind it?

Across the hall, Nandini finally pulled back from the embrace.

Her eyes - still wet - shifted. And for the first time they landed on Vartika. Stayed there. Studied her with an emotion too layered to name.

Recognition.

Wonder.

And something that felt dangerously close to hope.

That gaze wasn't casual. It wasn't polite. It was searching. As if Nandini wasn't just looking at her - but looking for her.

This case was never just a case. And tonight - she had just stepped into the truth behind it.

Kalyani folded her hands dramatically and sighed. "Waah. Itne saalon baad mil rahe ho aur entry aise le rahe ho jaise aaj bhi durbar laga ho."

[Wow. After so many years you meet and make an entrance like you're still holding court.]

Raghav's lips twitched. "Durbar toh tab bhi tum hi lagati thi. Hum toh bas sunte the." [You were the one holding court back then too. We just listened.]

Viraj chuckled softly. "Sach kahun bhabhi, aapke bina toh humara ghar shaant hi ho gaya tha."

[Honestly bhabhi, our house had

become quite peaceful without you.]

Kalyani gasped theatrically. "Shaant? Main nahi thi toh tum logon ne shayad finally chain ki saans li hogi!"

[Peaceful? With me gone you must have finally breathed easy!]

Nandini laughed - an actual laugh, not the restrained version she wore in public. "Chain? Tumhare bina ghar suna ho gaya tha. Drama department bandh ho gaya tha."

[Peace? Without you the house went empty. The drama department shut down.]

"Drama department?" Kalyani placed a hand over her chest. "Main toh sabse sensible thi!" [Drama department? I was the most sensible one!]

"Bilkul," Shailaja added dryly. [Absolutely.]

The elders actually laughed. Not politely. Not carefully. Years fell away in seconds.

Vartika watched. This wasn't political courtesy.

This was real.

Old friendship

. Old mischief.

Old affection.

The kind that survives distance, ego, and silence.

Nandini's gaze softened as she looked at Kalyani. "Itni der laga di?"

[Why did you take so long?] The question wasn't sharp. It was simple.

Kalyani's smile faded slightly - but not painfully. "Zaroori tha."

[It was necessary.]

Raghav nodded once. "Us waqt hum sab ko laga tha tum wapas aaogi." [At that time we all thought you would come back.]

"Main abb toh aayi hoon," Kalyani replied gently. [I have come now.]

Viraj smirked lightly. "Haan, par is baar seedha case lekar." [Yes, but this time with a case in hand.]

The air shifted. Subtle. Not tense. Just honest.

Vartika felt their eyes settle on her again.

Shailaja tilted her head slightly. "Humein lag raha tha tum humse gussa hogi." [We thought you would be angry with us.]

Vartika met her gaze steadily. "Gussa tab hota hai jab personal ho. Court mein main sirf facts dekhti hoon."

[Anger happens when it's personal. In court I only look at facts.]

Viraj's brow lifted, impressed. "Strong answer."

"Obviously. Meri beti hai." [Obviously. She's my daughter.] Kalyani said.

Viraj laughed softly. "Ab samajh aa raha hai case withdraw karne ke liye itna drama kyun hua."

[Now I understand why there was so much drama about withdrawing the case.]

"Drama main nahi karti," Kalyani muttered. [I don't do drama.]

"Bilkul," Raghav said flatly. [Absolutely.]

For a moment, the grandeur of the

palace faded.

It wasn't rulers and outsiders standing in that hall. It was four old friends who had once shared dreams louder than their surnames.

And now their children's paths were crossing in ways none of them could ignore.

Above them, the golden emblem of Mewar gleamed quietly. Legacy watching. Waiting. Because this meeting was not closure. It was the beginning of something far bigger.

Kalyani's expression shifted slightly. Not emotional now.

Traditional.

She glanced at Vartika and Nisha. A silent signal. Both understood immediately.

Vartika stepped forward first. Graceful. Controlled. Without hesitation - but respectful.

She bent. Touched Raghav's feet. Then Nandini's. The marble floor was cool beneath her fingers.

Raghav placed his hand lightly over her head. "Khush raho," he said quietly. [Be happy.]

Nandini's palm lingered a second longer. "Khush raho. Par kabhi jhuko mat galat ke saamne." [Be happy. But never bow before what is wrong.] The blessing was layered. Vartika understood.

Nisha moved next - usually playful, usually loud, but something in her posture had changed. Back straighter. Eyes sharper. This wasn't just a reunion anymore. This was power. And Nisha - who could read rooms better than she let on - had felt it too.

She bent respectfully. "Jeete raho," Raghav said. [Live long.]

Viraj smiled slightly. "Alert rehna," he added lightly. [Stay alert.]

Nisha blinked. "Ji?" [Sir?]

Shailaja's lips curved. "Khush raho." [Be happy.]

Nisha gave a polite smile. But internally her brain had gone into full surveillance mode.

And then there was Mehak. Who had been watching all of this like she was accidentally cast in a historical drama.

She leaned toward Vartika and whispered far too loudly - "Babe... yeh log sach mein Rathore wale hain? Matlab actual royalty? Like... fort-wale?"

[Babe... these people are actually the Rathores? Like actual royalty? Like... fort-people?]

Nisha elbowed her sharply. "Shhh!"

Too late. Viraj heard. And surprisingly - laughed.

"Haan," he replied calmly.

"Fort-wale." [Yes. Fort-people.]

Mehak gasped. "Main sahi jagah aa gayi hoon." [I've come to the right place.]

Kalyani pinched her arm discreetly.

"Seedhi khadi ho."

[Stand straight.]

Mehak immediately folded her hands dramatically and bent - almost too low, like she was auditioning for a mythological serial.

"Pranam Maharaj ji." [Greetings, Your Majesty.]

The hall went silent for half a second. Then Raghav actually chuckled.

"Maharaj nahi. Uncle chalega." [Not Maharaj. Uncle will do.]

Nandini was trying very hard not to laugh. Shailaja failed completely.

Viraj muttered, "Drama department wapas aa gaya." [The drama department is back.]

Kalyani closed her eyes briefly. "Isko main saath kyun laayi..." [Why did I bring this one along...]

Mehak straightened proudly. "Main bas culture respect kar rahi thi." [I was just respecting the culture.]

Nisha muttered - "Thoda kam respect kar leti." [Could've respected a little less.]

Mehak had already inserted herself into the center.

"Okay but honestly," she said, standing far too comfortably beside Viraj, "aap logon ka surname hi intimidating hai. Singh Rathore of Mewar? Main toh form fill karte waqt hi darr jaati."

[Honestly, your surname itself is intimidating. Singh Rathore of Mewar? I'd be scared even while filling a form.]

Viraj raised an amused brow. "Tum form fill karti ho?" [You fill forms?]

Shailaja laughed. Mehak clutched her chest.

"Character assassination mat kariye. Main ek responsible citizen aur imaandaar student hoon."

[Don't assassinate my character. I'm a responsible citizen and honest student.]

Raghav watched her with mild curiosity. "Tumhari energy... Kalyani jaisi hai. In fact Vartika toh lagti bhi nahi iske - jaise college time mein ye bilkul aisi hi thi, Mehak si."

[Your energy is like Kalyani's. In fact Vartika doesn't even seem like her daughter - it's like in college days she was exactly like this, like Mehak.]

"Exactly, mujhe bhi shak hota hai." Lavanya said.

[Exactly, I have doubts too.]

Kalyani groaned softly. "Bas yahi baaki tha." [This was all that was left.]

Mehak beamed proudly. "Royal comparison mil gaya mujhe. I'll frame this."

Nandini's laughter this time was unrestrained. "Tumhe pata hai," she said, eyes warm, "aise log ghar mein roshni laate hain."

[You know, people like you bring light into a home.]

Mehak immediately folded her hands. "Adopt kar lo mujhe."

[Adopt me then.]

Nisha choked on her breath.

While Mehak bonded like she'd been born for palace drama -

Nisha and Vartika stood a little apart. Not isolated.

Just observant.

Nisha leaned closer, voice low. "Too smooth."

Vartika didn't look at her. "I know."

"Yeh sab coincidence nahi hai." [This is not all coincidence.]

"Definitely not."

Their smiles remained polite. Relaxed. But their eyes - sharp.

Tracking

everything

. Who looked at whom.

Who paused when the case was mentioned.

Who didn't.

"Go," Nisha murmured softly.

"You've been staring at maasi for five minutes."

Vartika inhaled slowly. "I need to talk to her. Alone."

Nisha gave a subtle nod. "I'll distract."

Before Vartika could move - Shailaja approached with gentle poise.

"You both are very quiet," she observed.

Nisha smiled sweetly. "Observation skills strong hain aapki." [Your observation skills are strong.]

Shailaja's eyes twinkled. "Royal training."

Vartika met her gaze calmly. "We're just absorbing."

"Absorb karte waqt conclusions bhi bana rahi ho?" [Are you forming conclusions while absorbing?] Viraj's voice joined lightly from the side.

Nisha grinned. "Hum lawyer ke ghar se hain. Habit hai." [We come from a lawyer's household. It's habit.]

There it was again - that flicker of respect. They weren't intimidated daughters. They were thinking ones.

Meanwhile Mehak had somehow convinced Nandini to show her the antique sword near the staircase.

"Is this real?" she asked dramatically.

"Very," Raghav replied dryly.

Mehak stepped back immediately. "Main door se admire karungi." [I'll admire it from a distance.]

Nandini shook her head affectionately. "Tum bilkul filter ke bina bolti ho." [You speak completely without a filter.]

"Vo luxury afford nahi kar sakti," Mehak replied. [She can't afford that luxury.]

Viraj laughed again. The warmth was genuine. The bonding easy. But beneath it - currents moved. Unseen. Unspoken.

Vartika's eyes found Kalyani again. This time - Kalyani looked back. Held her gaze. And for a fraction of a second, something passed between mother and daughter.

Not fear.

Guilt.

But readiness.

Vartika straightened. This was her chance. Tonight, she wasn't leaving this palace without the truth. From her mother. Alone.

They began walking toward the staircase.

The corridors were long and high-ceilinged, lit by wall lamps casting golden shadows over framed portraits of past rulers.

Every step echoed faintly.

History didn't whisper here.

It watched.

Mehak was spinning slowly as she walked. "Yeh jagah museum bhi hai kya? Matlab main galti se kisi ancestor ko knock na kar doon."

[Is this place a museum too? I mean what if I accidentally knock over some ancestor.]

Nisha whispered, "Please behave."

"Main behave hi toh kar rahi hoon. Cultural appreciation." [I am behaving. Cultural appreciation.]

Raghav, ahead of them, heard and said calmly - "Mewar mein har cheez ki kahaani hoti hai." [In Mewar, everything has a story.]

Mehak immediately replied, "Meri bhi hogi ab. 'The girl who almost fainted in a royal hallway.'" [Mine will too now. 'The girl who almost fainted in a royal hallway.']

Viraj chuckled under his breath.

They reached a set of carved wooden doors. Attendants opened them silently.

Inside - the room was vast. High arched windows draped in silk.

A balcony overlooking the inner courtyard. Intricate jharokha detailing along the walls. Soft amber lighting.

Not flashy luxury. Old royalty. The kind that didn't need to prove itself.

"Settle ho jao," Nandini said warmly. "Dinner time mein kisi ko bhej denge bulwane ke liye." [Make yourselves comfortable. We'll send someone to call you at dinner time.]

Raghav gave a single nod to Lavanya - a silent understanding between old friends. Then the royals stepped back, leaving them alone.

The doors closed gently. The latch clicked.

Mehak immediately flopped onto the large bed. "Main yahin shift ho rahi hoon." [I'm shifting here permanently.]

Nisha walked to the balcony, scanning the courtyard below. "Security tight hai." [Security is tight.]

"Obviously," Mehak replied lazily.

"Royal log hain." [Obviously. They're royals.]

Vartika wasn't listening. Her eyes were on Kalyani. Who had gone unusually quiet. Kalyani moved toward the smaller adjoining sitting chamber inside the suite -

unconsciously, like

she knew.

Vartika followed.

"Nisha," she said calmly, "thoda time?" [A little time?]

Nisha understood immediately. "Main handle karti hoon." [I'll handle it.]

Mehak blinked. "Kya handle-"

Nisha grabbed her arm. "Balcony check karte hain." [Let's check the balcony.]

The inner chamber door closed.

Not loudly.

But firmly.

It was quieter here. A small seating area.

A low table.

Soft lamps.

No palace grandeur.

Just mother and daughter.

For a moment - neither spoke.

Kalyani removed her bangles slowly. Set them down. Avoided eye contact.

Vartika didn't waste time.

"Yeh sab kya hai?" [What is all this?] Her voice wasn't raised. It was steady. Controlled. More dangerous that way.

Kalyani inhaled slowly. "Tumhe milna zaroori tha." [You needed to meet them.]

"Kisliye?" [For what?]

"Samajhne ke liye." [To understand.]

"Main samajh rahi hoon," Vartika replied quietly. "Yeh Rathore family hai. Jinke khilaaf main case lad rahi hoon." [I understand. This is the Rathore family. The one I'm fighting against in court.]

Silence.

Heavy now.

Real.

Kalyani finally looked at her. "Tum jo lad rahi thi... woh sach ka sirf aadha hissa hai."

[What you were fighting... is only half the truth.]

Vartika's jaw tightened. "Toh baaki aadha?" [Then the other half?]

Kalyani's eyes softened. "Woh tumhe dekhna hoga. Sunna hoga. Samajhna hoga." [That you'll have to see. Hear. Understand.]

"Court mein decide hota hai, maa. Palace mein nahi." [Things are decided in court, maa. Not in palaces.]

A flicker of pride crossed Kalyani's face. "Isi liye tumhe yahan laayi hoon." [That's exactly why I brought you here.]

The words landed slowly. Intentionally.

Vartika took a step closer. "Seedha boliye." [Speak directly.]

Kalyani held her gaze. "Jo dikh raha hai... woh poora sach nahi hai." [What appears to be... is not the complete truth.]

"And you want me to what? Back off?"

"I want you to know."

Outside, faint laughter from Mehak drifted in through the balcony doors. Inside - the air had sharpened.

Vartika folded her arms slowly. "You knew who they were. All along."

"Yes."

"And you didn't tell me."

"I couldn't."

"Why?"

A beat. Kalyani's voice dropped to almost a whisper. "Because tum sirf lawyer nahi ho, Vartika. Tum iss kahaani ka hissa ho."

[Because you're not just a lawyer, Vartika. You are part of this story.]

The words hit harder than any revelation so far.

Vartika didn't react immediately.

Didn't blink. Didn't breathe. Just stood there - as the palace walls outside seemed to close in slightly.

Tonight wasn't about old friendships. Or royalty. Or even the case.

It was about something far more personal..

And for the first time - Vartika wasn't sure if she was ready for the answer.

"Tum iss kahaani ka hissa ho."

For a second - Vartika didn't react. Then something inside her snapped. Not loudly. But sharply.

"Aapko lagta hai yeh dramatic line bolke main shaant ho jaungi?"

[You think saying this dramatic line will calm me down?]

Her voice wasn't raised yet. It was tight. Controlled. Dangerously so.

Kalyani tried to step closer. Vartika moved away instantly.

"Nahi. Please. Abhi mat."

[No. Please. Not now.]

"Aapko pata tha yeh Rathore family hai." [You knew this was the Rathore family.]

"Pata tha."

[I knew.]

"Aapko pata tha main unke khilaaf lad rahi hoon."

[You knew I was fighting against them.]

"Pata tha." [I knew.]

"Aapko pata tha media kya bol rahi hai." [You knew what the media was saying.]

"Pata tha." [I knew.]

"Phir bhi aap chup rahi." [And still you stayed silent.]

Now her voice rose. Not hysterical. But hurt.

"Why?"

Kalyani's jaw tightened. "Kyuki har sach court mein nahi bola jaata." [Because not every truth is spoken in court.]

"Convenient," Vartika shot back. "Bahut convenient hai." [Very convenient.]

She ran a hand through her hair, pacing now. "This isn't some old college reunion, maa. This is a legal battle. Reputations. Public record. Allegations."

Her eyes flashed. "And you thought what? Ki main yahan aake emotional ho jaungi?"

[And you thought what? That I'd come here and get emotional?]

Outside, faint laughter from Mehak

floated in. The contrast made it worse.

"You don't trust me," Vartika said quietly. That was the real wound.

Kalyani flinched slightly. "Main tum par sabse zyada bharosa karti hoon."

[I trust you the most of all.]

"Then why keep me in the dark?"

"Kyuki tum sach ko todti nahi ho," Kalyani replied firmly. "Tum usse seedha dekh kar decision leti ho."

[Because you don't bend the truth. You look at it directly and make your decisions.]

"Exactly."

"Isi liye mujhe darr tha." [That's exactly why I was afraid.]

Vartika stopped pacing. "Darr?" [Afraid?]

"Haan." [Yes.]

"Kis baat ka?" [Of what?]

Kalyani's voice dropped. "Ki tum sach jaan kar bhi case nahi chhodogi."

[That even after knowing the truth, you wouldn't drop the case.]

Silence. That was it. That was the core.

Vartika laughed once. Short. Sharp. "So this is about protecting them."

"Yeh sirf unki baat nahi hai." [It's not just about them.]

"Toh kiski hai?!"

[Then whose is it?!]

"Aapko idea hai main kitni mehnat se yahan tak pahunchi hoon?" Vartika's voice trembled - not weak, but furious. "Main kisi ka surname dekh kar decision nahi leti."

[Do you have any idea how hard I worked to get here? I don't make decisions by looking at someone's surname.]

"Main jaanti hoon." [I know.]

"Phir?" [Then?]

"Phir bhi tum meri beti ho." [And yet you are my daughter.]

"Don't," she said sharply. "Please maa. Is waqt emotional card mat khelo." [Please maa. Don't play the emotional card right now.]

"I'm not."

"Then stop speaking in riddles! Straight answer chahiye mujhe. Is case mein aisa kya hai jo mujhe nahi pata?" [I need a straight answer. What is there in this case that I don't know?]

Kalyani looked at her.

Long.

Deep.

Heavy.

But she didn't answer immediately.

And that silence pushed Vartika over the edge.

"Fine." Her voice went cold. Colder than anger.

"If this is some attempt to influence my judgment, it won't work."

"Vartika-"

"No." She stepped back toward the door.

"You should have told me earlier."

Vartika stepped out before her thoughts could soften.

The corridor felt too narrow. The air too still. She didn't stop walking until she reached the balcony at the far end of the wing.

Cool night air hit her face instantly. The courtyard below shimmered under golden lights. Fountains murmured softly. The palace domes rose against a dark velvet sky.

She gripped the stone railing. Breathed in. Breathed out. Still furious. Still hurt. Still trying not to feel both at once.

"You must be very angry."

The voice was calm. Close.

Vartika stiffened. She turned.

Nandini Singh Rathore stood a few steps away, draped in soft silk, the night breeze barely moving the edge of her pallu.

Not imposing.

Not royal at this moment.

Just present.

"I didn't mean to intrude," Nandini continued gently. "This balcony has a habit of collecting troubled minds."

Vartika straightened instinctively. "I'm fine."

Nandini smiled faintly. "No, you're not." No accusation. Just certainty.

A silence passed between them. Different from the one with Kalyani. Less sharp. More aware.

"You must be angry at your mother," Nandini said softly.

"She kept something from me."

"Yes." The honesty surprised her.

Nandini stepped closer, resting her hands lightly on the stone railing. "But sometimes silence is not betrayal. Sometimes it is protection."

"Protection from what?" Vartika asked quietly. "The truth?"

"From timing."

Vartika let out a frustrated breath. "I don't like being handled."

"And you shouldn't," Nandini replied at once. "You fought for what you believed was wrong. Not against us." There was no bitterness in her tone. "Do you know how rare that is?"

"You made us look at things we ignored," Nandini continued. "You forced accountability. And it will be taken care of."

Vartika studied her face carefully. "You're saying there was a mistake."

"Yes." Simple. Clear. No excuses.

"And I won't ask you to close your eyes," Nandini added. "Investigate. Ask questions. Look wherever you need to. If after that you are not satisfied... you may return to the case."

The offer was calm. Unpressured. Strong.

"Then what do you want from me?" Vartika asked.

"Time." Just one word. "Give this a few days. See what unfolds."

The night breeze carried the faint scent of raat rani through the air.

"There is more to your story than you think," Nandini continued quietly.

Vartika's brows knit slightly. "What does that mean?"

"It means you don't yet know your full potential." Nandini's voice softened. "You are strong because you believe in justice. But strength is not your only inheritance."

The word hit subtly. Inheritance.

"For years I have watched women shrink themselves to fit circumstances. You do not shrink." A small pause. "And soon... you will understand why."

Vartika didn't realise she had stopped gripping the railing until her fingers relaxed.

The anger was still there. But it wasn't raging anymore. It was... listening.

Nandini stepped closer slowly - as if approaching a wounded but dignified creature.

She lifted her hand and placed it gently on Vartika's head.

A mother's gesture.

Not a queen's.

"Trust her," Nandini murmured softly. "Whatever is happening here... it is for a reason."

Vartika's throat tightened

unexpectedly. Not because she was convinced. But because the touch felt genuine.

Warm.

Steady.

Protective.

"We are not your enemies," Nandini added quietly. "You stood against what you believed was wrong. Not against us."

That distinction mattered. More than she expected.

For the first time since arriving - something unfamiliar threaded through the chaos.

Not surrender.

Not acceptance.

The beginning of trust.

Thin.

Delicate.

Almost invisible.

But there.

Nandini's hand rested lightly against her hair for a moment longer - before she withdrew.

"Rest tonight," she said softly.

"Tomorrow will begin differently."

And as Nandini turned to leave - Vartika didn't stop her.

She stood there on the balcony - feeling something shift quietly inside her.

The story wasn't as simple as she thought. And somewhere, deep beneath the anger - curiosity had begun to bloom.

____________

After Nisha practically banned her from the room, Mehak stood in the corridor for a full five seconds. Processing the audacity.

"Samajhti kya hai chudail khud ko?"

[Who does she think she is, this witch?] she muttered, fixing her dupatta aggressively.

"Queen Victoria? Use kya lagta hai, uske siwa mere paas koi baat karne ke liye nahi hai?"

[Does she think no one has anything to talk about except her?]

She gave the closed door one last offended look.

"Fine. Don't include me. I'll include myself."

She walked down the corridor, heels clicking against polished marble floors that practically reflected her annoyance back at her.

The palace lighting was softer here - golden wall sconces casting warm halos against carved sandstone walls. Massive portraits lined the hallway, their ornate gold frames glinting under chandeliers that looked like they were imported directly from a royal Pinterest board.

She slowed slightly. "Okay but... unnecessary levels of rich."

She passed a carved archway and stepped into the dining pavilion.

And stopped. Completely.

The food area wasn't just luxurious. It was excessive. A long banquet table stretched across the hall, draped in deep maroon silk.

Crystal candelabras stood at equal intervals. Silver thalis gleamed like mirrors with delicate engravings - vines, peacocks, intricate borders that probably cost more than her entire skincare routine.

Fresh rose petals had been scattered across the table - not thrown - placed. Strategically. Like even the petals had discipline here.

"Yeh log khana serve kar rahe hain ya world hunger ka reason bane ki koshish karne mein lage hain?"

[Are these people serving food or trying to be the reason for world hunger?] she whispered.

The aroma hit her next. Rich ghee. Roasted spices. Smoky tandoor. Saffron.

Her stomach, traitor that it was, growled loudly.

"Okay. Focus."

One entire section was dedicated to Rajasthani cuisine.

Dal baati churma - the baatis perfectly golden, dripping with ghee.

Gatte ki sabzi swimming in thick yogurt gravy.

Ker sangri arranged in a silver bowl like a rare artifact.

Fresh phulkas stacked under a velvet-lined lid.

Another section had North Indian classics. Butter paneer glowing like it knew it was superior.

Palak paneer looking soft and smug.

She leaned closer to the palak paneer. "Tum alag hi chamak rahe ho." [You're glowing differently.]

Then she straightened.

"No. We are strong. We are independent. We are not here for food."

Her eyes drifted to the dessert counter. Ghewar layered with rabri. Jalebis coiled perfectly. Rasmalai floating peacefully.

Three types of kheer.

Three.

"Kya zarurat thi teen kheer ki?" [What was the need for three types of kheer?] she muttered. "Ek hi mera imaan lootne ke liye kaafi hoti."

[One would have been enough to rob me of my resolve.]

She picked up a spoon. Put it down. Crossed her arms. Looked toward the hallway.

Still no Vartika. Still no Nisha.

"Nisha pagal wagal hai kya?" [Is Nisha out of her mind?]

She circled the table slowly like a predator evaluating prey.

"Okay but if they're planning some big reveal and I faint because I didn't eat properly, then whose fault will that be?"

She nodded to herself.

"Exactly."

As she held onto that plate of chaat as if her entire life depended on it, Mehak made her way towards the corridors - which felt ethereal, too pretty to be true.

The marble beneath her feet reflected the golden chandelier lights like liquid honey. The carved arches rose high above, detailed with floral jaali work casting delicate shadows along the walls.

Everything smelled faintly of fresh mogra and expensive polish.

While munching, she said to herself - "Kitna pyaara palace hai yaar! Ekdum wattpad coded. Kash yahan ka koi Rajkumar hota jisse mujhse pyaar ho jaata, aur meri bhi forbidden romance ki fantasy puri ho jaati - ya main replaced bride ban jaati kisi handsome se hot ameer green flag aadmi ki, oyeee hoyee, main aur mere ye chotte chotte sapne."

[What a beautiful palace! Completely wattpad-coded. If only this palace had a prince who would fall in love with me, and my forbidden romance fantasy would be fulfilled - or I'd become a replaced bride for some handsome rich green-flag man, oh my, me and my little little dreams.]

She smiled to herself, completely immersed in her imagination.

The corridor opened ahead into a vast garden -

but she didn't even realise she had crossed the threshold.

The garden was unreal. Moonlight spilled across perfectly trimmed hedges shaped into symmetrical patterns.

White marble pathways curved elegantly between flower beds blooming with raat rani and roses.

A large fountain stood in the center, its water shimmering silver under the night sky. Lanterns hung from ancient neem trees, their soft glow giving the entire place a dreamlike haze.

The air was cool. Calm. Romantic. Too romantic.

She was mesmerized - not before colliding.

The Rathore garden at night felt like a different world. Soft yellow lanterns hung from the trees. The fountain whispered gently.

The scent of raat-rani floated in the air, sweet and dizzying. Gravel pathways curved between trimmed hedges and blooming jasmine.

Mehak was walking quickly, slightly distracted, holding her small plate of chaat she had insisted on bringing out with her. She wasn't looking ahead. She was muttering to herself.

"These people and their dramatic discussions, I swear -"

And then -