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, minimal artwork, and perfectly aligned shelves

held rows of legal files like silent soldiers waiting for command.

Nothing unnecessary.

Nothing sentimental.

The desk—sleek dark wood with a matte finish—

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.

Even the lighting was deliberate—

warm enough to seem welcoming,

dim enough to keep emotions from lingering too long.

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.

Vartika's office had always been designed to keep the world outside.

Silence lived here.

Control lived here.

Nothing entered unless she allowed it.

Files stood in perfect order along the shelves—

spines aligned, labels precise,

each case reduced to paper, argument, and outcome.

Law, in its cleanest form.

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,

pages spread beneath the soft white light.

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?

As if the air itself understood

that this was no longer just a legal file.

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.

And in that stillness,

something began to change—

softly, invisibly,

beyond language.

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 in the room 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,

as though she had expected disturbance—

just not its exact form.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

The quiet between them was different

from the silence she had been sitting in alone.

This one carried awareness.

Recognition.

A history of arguments that had never been personal—

and yet never entirely professional either.

Neil closed the door gently behind him.

The faint click echoed more than it should have.

Then he walked forward,

each step unhurried,

as if time behaved differently around him.

He stopped across her desk

and placed the bouquet down with deliberate care.

White against dark wood.

Softness against restraint.

Her eyes dropped to the flowers for only a second

before returning to his face.

"For what?" she asked.

Her voice was calm—

but the calm of someone who preferred clarity over gestures.

Neil considered the question

with an expression almost thoughtful and a smile.

"Condolences," he said at last.

A small pause followed.

"For your loss."

Nothing in his tone explained

which loss he meant.

The case.

Or the quiet control she was known for.

Vartika's fingers stilled on the desk.

"If this is an attempt at sympathy," she said evenly,

"it's poorly researched."

A faint curve touched the corner of his mouth—

not quite a smile,

more like amusement he hadn't decided to hide.

"I never attempt sympathy," he replied softly.

"I find it inefficient."

"That explains a lot."

Another silence.

But this one was sharper—

threaded with something neither of them named.

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.

Just... observation.

Vartika didn't answer immediately.

Because the truth was complicated—

and he was the last person she intended to explain it to.

"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.

Her eyes hardened a fraction.

"If you came here to discuss professional philosophy," she said,

"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?"

That earned the smallest real smile from him—

brief, gone almost instantly.

For a moment,

the tension shifted into something quieter...

strangely balanced.

Then his expression settled again,

calm returning like a curtain falling back into place.

"Hum dono jaantein hai tum ye case itni  aasani se nahi chodogi " he said.

The change in subject was sudden—

but not random.

Vartika noticed.

She noticed everything.

"And that concerns me how?" she asked.

Neil met her gaze steadily.

"I have a feeling," he said, voice low and certain,

"Just a hunch. Kahin Vartika Rathore dar ke pith piche se toh hamla nahi karne wali."

The words landed softly—

but something beneath them felt

far from gentle.

Her posture stiffened. "I was fortunate enough to be raised well enough. Aapkii parwarish me kami rahi hogi meri me nahi advocate sahab. Pith piche var karna maine kabhi nahi seekha par agar aap aapne se junior advocate se iss kadar daarein huein hai toh that shows a lot about your bravery.

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.

And neither of them

would be able to walk away from what waited there.

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

Keeping his hands back into his pockets he turned back.

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.

With a convoy of security waiting ahead and behind.

Drivers standing straight.

Guards speaking in low, disciplined voices.

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," Mehak argued, completely serious.

"MY HAIR WAS PERFECT!"

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

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?" she asked softly.

"No."

Same timing. Same confidence.

Vartika closed her eyes.

One deep breath.

Inner peace... rejected again.

Behind them, another voice joined-

"Arre itna drama toh meri shaadi mein bhi nahi hua tha," Lavanya laughed, walking toward them.

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

Manav adjusted his watch calmly.

"Upgraded? Volume zyada hai bas."

Mehak gasped. "Papa ne roast kar diya!"

Kalyani, who had been quietly watching Vartika, finally spoke-

"Driver bechara soch raha hoga paisa zyada hai ya patience."

Even Vartika's lips curved slightly at that.

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

Manav sighed. "Ab kya hua?"

"Yeh function hai kiska??"

Three seconds of silence.

Mehak blinked. "Aapko bhi nahi pata?"

"MUJHE laga tujhe pata hi hoga kahin se bhi khabar jo dhundh ke le aati hai!" Nisha said.

Manav looked at Kalyani.

Kalyani looked at Lavanya.

Lavanya looked at Manav again.

Mehak slowly whispered, "Matlab... hum teeno me se kisi ko bhi nahi pata??"

Another pause.

Manav cleared his throat with fake dignity.

"Its a... 'family function.'"

Nisha stared.

"Bas?? FAMILY FUNCTION??

Kaunsi family?? Hum aliens ke ghar ja rahe hain kya??"

Lavanya started laughing.

Kalyani tried to stay serious... failed.

Even Manav's calm face cracked for a second.

Driver opened the car doors politely.

"Sir... ma'am..."

"Chalo chalo warna mystery function khatam ho jayega," Mehak said sarcastically, pushing Nisha forward.

"Main window seat lungi!"

"NO I'm taking it!"

"Vartika bolo na!"

"Main chalti gaadi se kud jaungi."

"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!" Lavanya shouted from the front car.

"Mom main bacchi nahi hoon!"

"Exactly isi liye bol rahi hoon!"

Manav to driver, very calmly:

"Slow chalao. Inhe zinda pahunchana zaroori hai."

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?"

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?"

The question didn't feel simple.

It carried years inside it.

Both of them looked toward Kalyani.

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

too calm.

The kind of calm 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?"

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."

The softness in her tone made the truth harsher.

Lavanya's fingers curled into the edge of her saree.

"Agar woh toot gayi toh...?"

Kalyani looked back at the road ahead.

Her voice didn't break.

But something inside it did.

"Phir usse sambhalna hoga"

A breath.

Barely there.

"Jaise hamesha sambhaalti hai."

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

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

"Mai bus aapna kiya wada pura kar rahi hoon. Dusra option nahi hai, or essa unhone jesa kaha tha maine sab wesa hi kiya agar mere bus me hota kuch bhi toh aaj Vartika essi na hoti. Tareeka galat ho par uska essa bana zazoori hai, Abhi uski jindagi me jo badlav aayeinge unhe jhelne ke liye, aab usse aur chupaya Nahi jaa sakta uss duniya se jahan vo raj karne wali hai aur ye duniya aur ye log ye kam uske liye asaan toh bilkul nahi hone dene wale ye baat unhe pata thi iss liye itne saal ka tap Kiya hai usne. Mai koi mahan maa Nahi hun ye tum dono jaantein ho, na mujhe inn sab se fark padta tha, mai bus uss ek wade ke karan Jesse hi ye kaam khatam ho mai ye sab chod ke wapis yahan se chali jaungi mujhe fark Nahi padta Vartika kese handle karegi ya nahi ye uski kismat ki galti hai ."

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."

"Shut up. Suno."

She whispered loudly,

"What if yeh koi secret royal rishta meeting nikli?"

Two seconds of silence.

Then-

Nisha burst out laughing.

"Royal? Hum? Please. Agar royal hote na,

toh main office nahi jaati... Switzerland jaati."

Mehak gasped.

"Excuse me, attitude dekho. Switzerland wali feel already aa rahi hai madam ko."

Nisha flipped her hair.

"Obviously. Kuch logon jaisi gareeb vibes nahi deti main."

"HELLO?!" Mehak clutched her heart.

"Indirectly mujhe gareeb bol diya?!"

"Indirectly nahi. Directly."

Nisha smiled sweetly.

"MAIN GAADI SE KUD JAUNGI."

"Door lock hai. Try kar lo."

For the first time,

a soft laugh actually escaped Vartika.

Quiet.

Short.

But real.

Both girls froze.

Nisha squinted.

"Wait... tu hasi?"

Mehak leaned closer like a scientist observing a rare species.

"Repeat karo. Evidence chahiye."

Vartika shook her head slightly,

trying to hide the smile that refused to disappear.

"Tum dono pagal ho."

"Pagal nahi," Mehak corrected proudly,

"Aapke pyaar me pagal."

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."

"Main video banaungi," Mehak said instantly.

"Viral karenge. Caption: rich girl runs from shaadi."

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."

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.

Certain.

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.

The SUV was worth more than most people's houses.

Inside it?

Three girls fighting over one packet of chips like it was ancestral property.

"Mehak, seedha baith. Mere upar gir rahi hai tu."

"Main gir nahi rahi, emotional support de rahi hoon."

"Emotional support mein mera shoulder tod degi kya?"

"Beauty ke liye pain sehna padta hai, Vartika ji."

Nisha snorted.

"Beauty? Tu? Mirror ne case file kar diya hoga already."

"Excuse me? Mere dimples national treasure hain."

"National treasure nahi... warning sign hain, Aur tum dono meri gaadi barbad karke hi maanogi kya" Vartika said calmly.

For two full seconds-

silence.

Then Mehak gasped dramatically.

"NISHA. SUNA TUNE?? Yeh roast kar rahin hai mujhe!"

Nisha clutched her heart.

"Character development... I'm emotional."

"Tum dono overreact kar rahe ho," Vartika muttered.

"Overreact? Madam court mein 'OBJECTION MY LORD' chilla sakti hain, aur yahan hum overreact?"

"Woh professional hota hai."

"Toh main bhi professional hoon. Main certified journalist hoon."

Nisha suddenly leaned forward toward the driver.

"Bhaiya, gaadi slow chalana."

"Kyuuun?" Mehak squinted.

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

"Main utar jaungi," Vartika said flatly.

"Driver bhaiya, child lock on karo."

"MEHAK!"

"Safety first."

Mehak opened the chips packet again.

Nisha grabbed it.

"Mera hai."

"Family pack hai!"

"Family mein main favourite child hoon."

"Kisne bola?"

"Mummy ne."

"Jhooth. Papa ne mujhe secretly bola tha."

"Papa sabko bolte hain taaki koi roye na."

Vartika deadpanned,

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

"HAWWWW."

"Personal attack."

"Main complaint likh rahi hoon."

"Kis court mein?"

"Dil ke court mein."

"Wahan bhi case haar jayegi tu," Nisha said.

Suddenly Mehak froze.

"Guys."

"Kya?"

"Mera charger kahan hai?"

Nisha burst out laughing.

"Ab yaad aaya? 20 minute se drama kar rahi thi."

"Phone 3% pe hai! Agar main mar gayi toh?"

"Phone mar raha hai, tu nahi."

"Same thing hai."

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

Both girls stared.

"Tu... prepared rehti hai?"

"Obviously," she said calmly. "Main tum dono ke saath travel kar rahi hoon."

Nisha wiped fake tears.

"True friendship is carrying extra charger for stupid people."

Mehak hugged Vartika suddenly.

"Aap best ho."

"Door hat. Suffocate ho rahi hoon."

"Emotions se problem hai aapko."

"Tumhari emotions se hai." She said but 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 Aaranyesh Mahal.

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?"

Nisha blinked twice, still staring outside.

"Shaadi venue bola tha...

yeh toh pura kingdom hai."

The gates alone were taller than buildings they passed every day-

ornate ironwork layered with gold,

opening silently as if recognizing the arriving cars.

No guards shouted.

No chaos.

Just discipline wrapped in luxury.

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 cars rolled forward slowly,

tires whispering over the long marble driveway

that led straight toward the grand central courtyard of Aaranyesh Mahal.

Above the entrance-

hung a massive crystal chandelier open to the sky,

each prism catching the fading sunlight

and turning it into falling stars.

Beautiful.

Ethereal.

Perfect.

And somewhere beneath all that perfection...

something waited.

Patiently.

The car doors opened slowly, one after another, like a quiet announcement of arrival rather than a simple movement.

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," Mehak whispered, eyes wide, "agar yeh shaadi nahi hai na... toh phir definitely koi royal conspiracy chal rahi hai."

Nisha exhaled softly, still staring at the palace glowing ahead.

"Conspiracy ho ya na ho... budget dekh ke lag raha hai hum galat jagah aa gaye hain."

Vartika didn't laugh this time.

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.

Tall silver lamps burned steadily along the walls.

Not decorative.

Ceremonial.

Everything here spoke of continuity.

Of a family that had never really fallen-

only adapted.

And at the center of it stood-

Raghav Singh Rajvansh of Mewar.

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

Beside him-

Nandini Singh Rajvansh.

Grace wrapped in steel. Warmth balanced with pride. A woman who looked like she could host diplomats at noon and win a silent war by evening.

A few steps behind-

Viraj Singh Rajvansh, the younger brother.

Softer smile. Same royal spine.

And Shailaja, poised and observant, eyes intelligent and quietly amused-as if she saw more than she spoke.

It felt grand because they were standing in it.

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?"

For the first time, the fearless girl sounded unsure.

But Vartika-

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.

Realization didn't strike like lightning.

It rose slowly-

cold and steady-

like water filling a locked room.

A single thought formed, clear and terrifying.

This wasn't a social gathering.

This was the past returning.

And somehow-

she was standing

exactly at its center.

Her heartbeat went quiet.

Because deep inside...

she knew.

After tonight,

nothing in her life

would remain the same.

The embrace was still happening in front of her.

Soft. Emotional.

Filled with years Vartika didn't understand.

But the world around her had already begun to change.

Not outside.

Inside her.

Her eyes moved again-slowly this time-

from Nandini...

to Raghav...

to the silent authority that surrounded them like an invisible crown.

And then-

something clicked.

Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

Just a small, precise shift in memory.

Rajvansh.

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.

So this was it.

The Rajvansh family.

Not distant names in legal documents.

Not powerful figures discussed in court corridors.

Real people.

Standing a few steps away.

Holding her mother like lost time had finally returned.

Her lawyer's mind reacted first.

Instinctively.

Sharply.

If they know who I am...

If they know I'm the one fighting them...

The thought didn't finish.

Because another realization rose-quieter, deeper, more unsettling.

Her mother knew.

All this time...

Kalyani had known.

And still-

she had brought Vartika here.

For the first time that night,

a crack appeared in Vartika's composure.

Not visible to others.

Only inside.

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.

Vartika felt it like a silent touch.

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.

A faint unease curled in Vartika's stomach.

Because suddenly...

this didn't feel like she was here as a guest.

Or even as an opponent.

It felt like she had been brought here

for a reason still hidden in the shadows.

Behind her calm face,

one final thought settled-clear and irreversible.

This case was never just a case.

And tonight...

she had just stepped

into the truth behind it.

This was unfinished history meeting itself.

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."

Raghav's lips twitched.

"Durbar toh tab bhi tum hi lagati thi. Hum toh bas sunte the."

Viraj chuckled softly.

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

Kalyani gasped theatrically.

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

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."

"Drama department?" Kalyani placed a hand over her chest.

"Main toh sabse sensible thi!"

"Bilkul," Shailaja added dryly.

The elders actually laughed.

Not politely.

Not carefully.

Years fell away in seconds.

Vartika watched.

This wasn't political courtesy.

This wasn't alliance maintenance.

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?"

The question wasn't sharp.

It was simple.

Kalyani's smile faded slightly-but not painfully.

"Zaroori tha."

Raghav nodded once.

"Us waqt hum sab ko laga tha tum wapas aaogi."

"Main aayi hoon," Kalyani replied gently.

Viraj smirked lightly.

"Haan, par is baar seedha case lekar."

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."

Vartika met her gaze steadily.

"Gussa tab hota hai jab personal ho. Court mein main sirf facts dekhti hoon."

Viraj's brow lifted, impressed.

"Strong answer."

"Obviously. Meri beti hai." Kalyani said.

Viraj laughed softly.

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

"Drama main nahi karti," Kalyani muttered.

"Bilkul," Raghav said flatly.

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.

The crest above them glowed under chandelier light.

The rising sun emblem.

Centuries of lineage.

And no matter how casually they laughed-

the weight of that history remained.

Kalyani's expression shifted slightly.

Not emotional now.

Traditional.

She glanced at Vartika and Nisha.

A silent signal.

Both sisters understood immediately.

Vartika stepped forward first.

Graceful. Controlled. Not hesitant-but respectful.

Without dramatics, without hesitation-

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.

Nandini's palm lingered a second longer.

"Khush raho. Par kabhi jhuko mat galat ke saamne."

The blessing was layered.

Vartika understood.

Nisha moved next.

Usually playful. Usually loud.

But something in her posture had changed.

Her 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 before Raghav and Nandini.

"Jeete raho," Raghav said.

Viraj smiled slightly as she turned toward him and Shailaja.

"Alert rehna," he added lightly.

Nisha blinked.

"Ji?"

Shailaja's lips curved.

"Khush raho. "

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.

Her eyes were wide.

Her brain was not processing lineage.

It was processing spectacle.

She leaned toward Vartika and whispered far too loudly-

"Babe... yeh log sach mein rajvansh wale hain? Matlab actual royalty? Like... fort-wale?"

Nisha elbowed her sharply.

"Shhh!"

Too late.

Viraj heard.

And surprisingly-

laughed.

"Haan," he replied calmly. "Fort-wale."

Mehak gasped.

"Main sahi jagah aa gayi hoon."

Kalyani pinched her arm discreetly.

"Seedhi khadi ho."

Mehak immediately folded her hands dramatically and bent-

but almost too low.

Like she was auditioning for mythological serial.

She touched Raghav's feet with exaggerated devotion.

"Pranam Maharaj ji."

The hall went silent for half a second.

Then-

Raghav actually chuckled.

"Maharaj nahi. Uncle chalega."

Nandini was trying very hard not to laugh.

Shailaja failed completely.

Viraj muttered, "Drama department wapas aa gaya."

Kalyani closed her eyes briefly.

"Isko main saath kyun laayi..."

Mehak straightened proudly.

"Main bas culture respect kar rahi thi."

Nisha muttered under her breath-

"Thoda kam respect kar leti."

But beneath the humor-

something had shifted.

The formalities were done.

Blessings given.

Acknowledgment exchanged.

The Royals of Mewar had accepted them into the hall-not as distant guests...

but as people connected to their past.

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 Rajvansh of Mewar? Main toh form fill karte waqt hi darr jaati."

Viraj raised an amused brow.

"Tum form fill karti ho?"

Shailaja laughed.

Mehak clutched her chest.

"Character assassination mat kariye. Main ek responsible citizen or imandar student hoon."

Raghav watched her with mild curiosity.

"Tumhari energy... Kalyani jaisi hai in fact Vartika toh lagti bhi nahi iske, Jesse college time me ye bilkul essi hi thi Mehak si.."

"Exactly mujhe phi shaq hota hai." Lavanya said.

Kalyani groaned softly.

"Bas yahi baaki tha."

Mehak beamed proudly.

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

Nandini's laughter this time was unrestrained.

For someone who carried herself like a queen, she seemed almost relieved by Mehak's chaos.

"Tumhe pata hai," Nandini said, eyes warm, "aise log ghar mein roshni laate hain."

Mehak immediately folded her hands.

"Adopt kar lo mujhe."

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 to Vartika, voice low.

"Too smooth."

Vartika didn't look at her.

"I know."

"Yeh sab coincidence nahi hai."

"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.

Vartika blinked.

"What?"

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

Vartika inhaled slowly.

"I need to talk to her."

"Alone."

"Obviously."

Nisha gave a subtle nod.

"I'll distract."

Her tone was light. Casual.

But her eyes were protective.

Before Vartika could move-

Shailaja approached them with gentle poise.

"You both are very quiet," she observed.

Nisha smiled sweetly.

"Observation skills strong hain aapki."

Shailaja's eyes twinkled.

"Royal training."

Vartika met her gaze calmly.

"We're just absorbing."

"Absorb karte waqt conclusions bhi bana rahi ho?" Viraj's voice joined lightly from the side.

Nisha grinned.

"Hum lawyer ke ghar se hain. Habit hai."

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 displayed near the staircase.

"Is this real?" she asked dramatically.

"Very," Raghav replied dryly.

Mehak stepped back immediately.

"Main door se admire karungi."

Nandini shook her head affectionately.

"Tum bilkul filter ke bina bolti ho."

"Vo Luxury afford nahi kar sakti," Mehak replied.

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.

Before the younger generation arrived.

Before the hall filled.

Before whatever plan existed unfolded.

She stepped forward slowly-

intent clear.

Tonight, she wasn't leaving this palace

without the truth.

From her mother.

Alone.

They began walking toward the staircase.

The corridors of the palace were long and high-ceilinged, lit by wall lamps that cast 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."

Nisha whispered, "Please behave."

"Main behave hi toh kar rahi hoon. Cultural appreciation."

Ahead of them, Raghav heard and said calmly-

"Mewar mein har cheez ki kahaani hoti hai."

Mehak immediately replied, "Meri bhi hogi ab. 'The girl who almost fainted in 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."

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.

Silence settled.

Mehak immediately flopped onto the large bed.

"Main yahin shift ho rahi hoon."

Nisha walked to the balcony, scanning the courtyard below.

"Security tight hai."

"Obviously," Mehak replied lazily. "Royal log hain."

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?"

Nisha understood immediately.

"Main handle karti hoon," she replied softly.

Mehak blinked.

"Kya handle-"

Nisha grabbed her arm.

"Balcony check karte hain."

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?"

Her voice wasn't raised.

It was steady.

Controlled.

More dangerous that way.

Kalyani inhaled slowly.

"Tumhe milna zaroori tha."

"Kisliye?"

"Samajhne ke liye."

"Main samajh rahi hoon," Vartika replied quietly. "Yeh Rajvansh family hai. Jinke khilaaf main case lad rahi hoon."

Silence.

Heavy now.

Real.

Kalyani finally looked at her.

"T um jo lad rahi thi... woh sach ka sirf aadha hissa hai."

Vartika's jaw tightened.

"Toh baaki aadha?"

Kalyani's eyes softened.

"Woh tumhe dekhna hoga. Sunna hoga. Samajhna hoga."

"Court mein decide hota hai, maa. Palace mein nahi."

A flicker of pride crossed Kalyani's face.

"Isi liye tumhe yahan laayi hoon."

The words landed slowly.

Intentionally.

Vartika took a step closer.

"Seedha boliye."

Kalyani held her gaze.

"Jo dikh raha hai... woh poora sach nahi hai."

"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.

This was emotional blackmail.

This was royal pressure.

This was something deeper.

Something unfinished.

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."

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.

The words hung between them.

"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?"

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."

The distance was deliberate.

Protective.

"Aapko pata tha yeh Rajvansh family hai."

"Pata tha."

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

"Pata tha."

"Aapko pata tha media kya bol rahi hai."

"Pata tha."

"Phir bhi aap chup rahi."

Now her voice rose.

Not hysterical.

But hurt.

"Why?"

Kalyani's jaw tightened.

"Kyuki har sach court mein nahi bola jaata."

"Convenient," Vartika shot back immediately.

"Bahut convenient hai."

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?"

Outside, faint laughter from Mehak floated in again.

The contrast made it worse.

In this room-

everything felt sharp.

"You don't trust me," Vartika said quietly now.

That was the real wound.

Kalyani flinched slightly.

"Main tum par sabse zyada bharosa karti hoon."

"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."

"Exactly."

"Isi liye mujhe darr tha."

The admission landed heavily.

Vartika stopped pacing.

"Darr?"

"Haan."

"Kis baat ka?"

Kalyani's voice dropped.

"Ki tum sach jaan kar bhi case nahi chhodo gi."

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."

"Toh kiski hai?!"

The room felt smaller now.

The walls closer.

The royal luxury suddenly meaningless.

"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."

"Main jaanti hoon."

"Phir?"

"Phir bhi tum meri beti ho."

The softness in that line only ignited her more.

"Don't," she said sharply. "Please maa. Is waqt emotional card mat khelo."

"I'm not."

"Then stop speaking in riddles!"

Her patience was gone now.

Years of discipline holding her together-

cracking.

"Straight answer chahiye mujhe," she demanded.

"Is case mein aisa kya hai jo mujhe nahi pata?"

Kalyani looked at her.

Long.

Deep.

Heavy.

But she didn't answer immediately.

And that-

that silence-

pushed Vartika over the edge.

"Fine."

Her voice went cold now.

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 Rajvansh of Mewar 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.

Vartika didn't answer immediately.

"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," she added. "Sometimes it is protection."

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

"From timing."

The answer was steady.

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?"

Vartika frowned slightly.

"You made us look at things we ignored," Nandini continued. "You forced accountability."

The word lingered.

"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."

Her gaze sharpened slightly-not defensively, but confidently.

"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," Nandini said. "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," Nandini said, her voice softening, "you don't yet know your full potential."

Vartika almost scoffed-but something in Nandini's expression stopped her.

This wasn't flattery.

It wasn't manipulation.

It was... knowing.

"You are strong because you believe in justice," Nandini went on. "But strength is not your only inheritance."

The word hit subtly.

Inheritance.

"For years," Nandini added, "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 realize 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.

Carefully.

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-

Vartika felt something unfamiliar thread through the chaos.

Not surrender.

Not acceptance.

But the beginning of trust.

Thin.

Delicate.

Almost invisible.

But there.

The palace lights shimmered in her eyes.

She wasn't calm.

Not fully.

But she wasn't alone in her anger anymore either.

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 - locking her out of whatever serious "adult" conversation was happening inside - Mehak stood in the corridor for a full five seconds.

Five.

Whole.

Seconds.

Processing the audacity.

"Samajhti kya hai chudail khud ko?" she muttered under her breath, fixing her dupatta aggressively. "Queen Victoria? Use kya lagta hai, uske siwa mere paas koi baat karne ke liye nahi hai?"

She folded her arms.

"Haan haan. Very mysterious. Very intense. Dekhna kaise bhaagi bhaagi aayegi jab baal style karwane honge, humph."

She gave the closed door one last offended look before turning on her heel dramatically.

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

And with that, she decided she would at least inspect the venue properly.

If she wasn't getting secrets, she was getting aesthetics.

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.

Her irritation evaporated mid-step.

The food area wasn't just luxurious.

It was excessive.

A long banquet table stretched across the hall, draped in deep maroon silk that cascaded to the floor in perfect folds. Crystal candelabras stood at equal intervals, their flames flickering against the ceiling frescoes painted with scenes of royal hunts and festivals.

Silver thalis gleamed like mirrors. Every bowl had 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 kosish karne me large hai?" she whispered.

The aroma hit her next.

Rich ghee.

Roasted spices.

Smoky tandoor.

Saffron.

She inhaled deeply.

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, cracked open and dripping with ghee.

Laal maas - deep red, glossy, intimidating.

Gatte ki sabzi swimming in thick yogurt gravy.

Ker sangri arranged in a silver bowl like it was some 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.

Paneer tikka skewers resting neatly on a silver platter.

She leaned closer to the palak paneer.

"Tum alag hi chamak rahe ho."

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, glistening under warm light.

Rasmalai floating peacefully.

Three types of kheer.

Three.

"Kya zarurat thi teen kheer ki?" she muttered. "Ek hi mera imaan lootne ke liye kaafi hoti."

She picked up a spoon.

Put it down.

Crossed her arms.

Looked toward the hallway.

Still no Vartika.

Still no Nisha.

Her brain switched back to irritation mode.

"Nisha pagal wagal hai kya?"

She imagined Nisha upstairs, whispering in intense tones, probably folding her arms and looking smart.

"Haan haan. Very strategic. Very mature. Very 'I'm protecting you.'"

She rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Mujhe protect karne ki zarurat nahi hai. Main khud ka lawyer hoon."

Pause.

"Well... almost."

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 her, detailed with floral jaali work that cast delicate shadows along the walls. Everything smelled faintly of fresh mogra and expensive polish.

While munching into it, she said to herself,

"Kitna pyaara palace hai yaarrr! Ekdum wattpad coded. Kash yahan ka koi Rajkumar hota jisse mujhse pyaar ho jata, or meri bhi forbidden romance ki fantasy puri ho jati ya mai replaced bride ban jaati kisi handsome se hot ameer green flag aadmi ki , oyeee hoyee, mai or mere ye chotte chotte sapne."

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 Rajvansh garden at night felt like a different world.

Soft yellow lanterns hung from the trees. The fountain in the center 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 a 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—

Thud.

She walked straight into a solid wall.

Except it wasn’t a wall.

It was a chest.

Firm. Unmoving. Very much human.

The plate jerked in her hand and a small streak of tamarind chutney splashed forward — landing right on the front of a crisp white shirt.