It was a serene Monday morning, and the palace lay wrapped in a hush of calm. Beyond the grand corridors and sunlit courtyards, in her room at the far end of the eastern wing, Aarohi was preparing for her morning prayers. Monday's had always held a sacred place in her heart - they were her Shivji's days - and no matter what turmoil surrounded her, she never failed to observe her fast with unshaken devotion.

Clad in a soft saffron saree, her hair neatly tied, Aarohi moved gracefully about her room. The air was fragrant with the scent of ghee lamps and sandalwood incense.

Before her, on a marble pedestal, stood a small silver idol of Lord Shiva - her constant companion since childhood. She carefully placed fresh bel-patra leaves and a bowl of holy water beside it, her fingers trembling slightly, not from weakness, but from the reverence she carried within.

As she lit the diya, the golden flame flickered gently, casting a warm glow across her face. Her eyes softened as she folded her hands, her lips whispering the ancient verses she had known since she was a child. With each chant, the weight of her thoughts seemed to lift - her worries, her father's temper, the palace's tensions - all dissolved in the rhythm of her prayers.

For those few moments, she was not a royal daughter burdened by expectations, but simply a devotee - a soul seeking peace in the divine presence of her Mahadev.

Just as Aarohi placed the diya back on the altar and bowed her head one final time, a soft knock echoed against her door. The sudden sound broke the silence of her chamber, startling her from her prayerful trance. For a moment, she stayed still, her fingers still entwined in namaste, the faint hum of her chant lingering in the air.

She turned her gaze towards the door, the golden light of the diya still flickering behind her. The knock came again - firmer this time, yet hesitant, as though the visitor feared disturbing her sacred moment. Aarohi rose gently, adjusting the edge of her dupatta over her head, and walked across the room. Her anklets chimed faintly with each step, their delicate rhythm blending with the quiet of the morning.

As she reached the door, her mind wondered who it might be - Kaveri from the kitchen, perhaps, or someone sent by her father. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the latch and opened it slowly.

And there stood Uday Rajvansh and Milakshi -her maa sa and baba sa.

Aarohi was a bit startled seeing them this early in the morning and that too in her room- they never came in her room unless they had something important with her ...

"Maa sa, baba sa, itni subha humare room mai, zarur kuchh kaam hoga." She thought, her mind racing with thousands of thoughts -what made her parents visit her this early..

Aarohi stood still for a moment, her mind drifting into quiet thoughts, her gaze unfocused as her mind wandered through possibilities - perhaps something about the guests, or maybe some temple offering. The world outside her thoughts felt far away; only the faint sound of the diya's flame crackling reached her ears.

She didn't notice how long she'd been standing like that until her father's deep voice cut through the silence.

"Aarohi," Uday called, his tone firm yet gentle.

Startled, she blinked, coming back to the present. "Ji, Baba Sa," she replied softly, lowering her eyes as she turned her full attention toward him.

"Kaha kho gyi ap",Uday asked his tone firm yet soft at the same time ..

To which Aarohi replied "h..huh ji ,khi ni baba sa, aaiye ap andar aaiye".

Uday exchanged a glance with Milakshi, and together they walked inside. The soft rustle of their clothes filled the quiet room. Aarohi quickly moved aside, making space for them. Both Uday and Milakshi sat down on the edge of her bed.

For a moment, silence hung in the air - a silence heavy enough to make Aarohi's heart beat faster. She looked at them curiously, sensing something unsaid behind their calm faces.

The room was scilent until Uday's sharp yet firm voice echoed in the room, he looked at Aarohi and said, "hume apse kuchh baat karni hai", hearing this Aarohi's breath got caught in her throat, Her smile faded, and confusion flickered in her eyes. She straightened a little, her hands nervously twisting the edge of her dupatta.

"Kaisi baat, baba sa?" she asked, her voice low but filled with curiosity.

She glanced between Uday and Milakshi - their faces were calm, yet something about their silence made her uneasy. The air in the room felt heavier now, as if it was waiting for something big to unfold.

Aarohi's thoughts started to race - kahi maine koi galti toh nahi ki... ya fir koi zaruri faisla hone wala hai?

Uday's tone was calm and straightforward as he looked at Aarohi.

"Aarohi, kal Veerendra aaye the humse milne, yaad hoga apko," he said plainly, pausing for a moment before continuing.

"Ji baba sa," Aarohi replied,her tone soft yet carried a unspoken heaviness...

"Vo apne bete ka rishta le kar aaye the... Apke liye."

Aarohi blinked in surprise. The words hit her unexpectedly - she had thought maybe it was about some household work, not this.

"Mere liye...?" she asked slowly, her brows knitting together in confusion.

Uday gave a short nod. "Haan. Humne aur apki maa sa ne is rishtay ke liye haan kar di hai."

His tone remained even - no hesitation, no emotion, just a clear statement of decision.

Aarohi stared at him, stunned for a moment. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. She looked toward Milakshi, hoping for some explanation, but her mother sat silently, her expression calm and unreadable - as if everything had already been discussed and decided.

For a few seconds, Aarohi couldn't move. The words kept echoing in her head - "rishta... Apke liye..."

Her breath grew uneven, and her fingers slowly curled over the bedsheet. Inside, her thoughts were spiraling -

"Ni... ni ye nahi ho sakta... aisa nahi kar sakte ye log... maine aaj tak sab baat mani hai, sab saha hai... par ye... ye nahi... pls ye sach nahi ho sakta... maa baba aise nahi kar sakte..."

Her body stiffened as if every muscle had suddenly gone rigid. Her eyes started to blur, not with tears yet, but with disbelief. She felt her throat tighten, her chest heavy - like the air in the room had turned too thick to breathe.

She looked at them - at her parents sitting so calmly - and it only made her feel more trapped. Everything inside her screamed to deny it, but her lips couldn't form a single word.

Aarohi stood frozen for a long while, her mind struggling to grasp the words she had just heard. Her lips trembled as she finally whispered,

"Baba sa... hum ye shaadi nahi kar sakte... abhi humari umar hi kya hai? Pls, Baba sa, ye shaadi mat kijiye..."

Her voice quivered, eyes glistening with unshed tears, but before she could say more, Uday's tone turned firm and cold.

"Hum yahan tumhari haan ya naa ke liye nahi aaye, Aarohi. Bas batane aaye hain - chaar din baad tumhari shaadi hai, aur do din baad sagai. Taiyar rehna."

He rose from his seat, his face unreadable. Milakshi too stood silently, avoiding Aarohi's tearful gaze. Aarohi's heart sank as she saw them turn away.

"Pls, Baba sa... sun lijiye na..." she cried softly, but her voice drowned in the silence as they walked out of the room.

The heavy door closed behind them with a thud - and Aarohi collapsed onto the floor. Her sobs broke the royal stillness of the chamber.

She clutched the edge of her dupatta, tears streaming down her face.

"Maa sa... Baba sa... aise kaise kar diya aapne..." she murmured between sobs, her world crumbling around her.

She tried wiping her eyes, but the tears wouldn't stop.

"Aakhir maine aisa kya galat kiya hai Maa sa... Baba sa?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Her voice broke as she hugged the pillow close, seeking comfort from the only thing that didn't leave her side.

"Ye shaadi... ye sab kuch... main kaise kar paungi? Mujhe samajh hi nahi aa raha... kya main unke liye sirf ek zimmedari hoon?"

A soft breeze entered from the window, brushing against her tear-streaked face. She looked up at the ceiling, eyes glistening with pain and longing.

"Kya kisi ne kabhi meri khwahishon ki bhi sochi hoti?"

And then she fell silent again - just the sound of her quiet sobs echoing through the stillness of the room.

-----------------

Two days later...

Those two days didn't pass... they just went by.

Time kept moving, but inside Aarohi, everything had stopped.

After that night, Aarohi didn't speak much.

Not to Maa-sa, not to Baba-sa, not even to herself.

She just listened - to whatever people around her said:

"Keep the outfits ready."

"The mehendi lady will come tomorrow."

"Place the bangles in the side drawer."

She simply nodded without reacting, like her body was moving but her soul wasn't there.

Milakshi tried talking to her many times.

Sometimes softly, sometimes with anger...

But Aarohi only replied with a quiet "I'm fine."

Her eyes had lost their shine, and light dark circles started forming.

Sleep had completely abandoned her.

At night, she would go to the terrace and look up at the sky.

The stars were the same... the moon was the same...

But she was not.

As if she was repeating to herself:

"Everything looks unchanged... but I'm no longer who I was."

Veerendra visited too.

He tried to keep the atmosphere light, cracked a few jokes...

But Aarohi did not laugh.

She just gave a small, forced smile - the kind that never reaches the eyes.

And Uday...

He stayed silent these two days.

Whenever he crossed paths with her, he paused... but said nothing.

There was a heavy silence between them - heavier than words, heavier than anger.

Aarohi spent most of her time in her room.

Sometimes she would take out sarees from the wardrobe and keep them back again.

Sometimes she would flip through her childhood album...

and close her eyes for long moments.

As if reminding herself -

"There's no turning back. Everything is already decided."

And now the day has arrived-the engagement day-the day that will totally change Aarohi's life, whether in a good way or in a bad one .....

The morning arrived without celebration in Aarohi's heart.

The house was busy - relatives moving around, servants arranging decorations -

but none of it touched her.

Aarohi sat in front of the mirror, her face calm, expressionless.

Not tired.

Not angry.

Just... empty.

Like she had accepted everything long before this day even came.

The door opened.

Milakshi stepped in, holding Aarohi's engagement outfit.

Her posture straight, voice composed - not affectionate.

"Wear this. We don't have time to waste," she said plainly.

There was no softness in her tone.

No concern.

Just duty.

Just expectation.

Aarohi didn't look up.

She simply nodded once, slow and steady, the way she always had.

She had been raised like this - to listen, to obey, to not question.

Milakshi watched her for a moment.

Not with worry.

Not with regret.

But with the cold satisfaction of someone whose decisions were being followed.

"Agar ap aise hi baithi rhi,toh logo ko lagega ap khush nhi hai, muskuraiye thoda," Milakshi said sharply.

Still, Aarohi did not respond.

She just stood up and began getting ready - not for celebration, not for herself -

but because she had to.

Milakshi left, closing the door behind her without looking back.

Downstairs...

The house looked prepared for a celebration.

Marigold garlands hung from every archway, and brass lamps flickered along the walls, casting a warm golden glow across the hall.

The air carried the gentle scent of sandalwood, mixed with the faint sweetness of fresh flowers.

Women moved in soft rustles of silk, adjusting earrings, settling dupattas over their shoulders.

Men stood in small groups near the entrance, speaking quietly, checking watches, discussing arrangements one last time.

A long table near the side wall displayed silver trays of sweets, neatly arranged.

Glass tumblers were stacked beside brass water jugs, everything polished, everything precise.

The musicians were already in place, their shehnai sending out a slow, steady tune that floated through the house - calm, ceremonial, unhurried.

The large main doors had been left open.

The pathway outside was swept clean, lined with fresh flower petals.

Servants occasionally walked up to the gate, glanced outside, then returned.

Voices kept repeating in gentle tones:

"Mehman aas pass hi honge ab toh."

"ab toh kisi bhi waqt aa sakte han vo log."

"hn sb kuchh taiyar hai."

There was no rush.

No panic.

Just a quiet anticipation - like the house itself was holding its breath.

Everyone was simply waiting

-for footsteps at the door,

-for warm greetings,

-for the ceremony to begin.

The celebration had not started yet.

But the air was full of arrival.

After some waiting, the sound of cars arriving outside finally reached the entrance.

Servants straightened themselves, and a few elders looked toward the door.

The main doors were opened wider.

Veerendra entered first.

Tall, broad-shouldered, steady posture -

wearing a cream-colored silk sherwani with fine gold embroidery.

His presence was calm but commanding, the kind that made people straighten without being told.

Beside him walked his wife, Devyani.

She wore a deep wine-colored saree with an antique gold border.

Her jewellery was elegant - not loud, but old and expensive, showing lineage more than wealth.

Her expression was poised, chin slightly lifted, eyes sharp - a woman who notices everything but comments on nothing.

And walking beside them was Vihaan.

The groom.

He was 26,tall, chissled body,fully carved-a kind that could turn heads, he wore an ivory sherwani with subtle thread work and a matching stole draped across his shoulder.

His posture was confident yet understated -

hands behind his back, steps even, gaze steady.

His face didn't show excitement or nervousness -

just a calm acceptance of the occasion.

His presence was composed, controlled -

someone raised in discipline, not indulgence.

As the three of them entered, soft murmurs spread through the hall:

"Dulhe wale aa gaye."

"Veerendra ji ka beta Vivaan..."

"Humesha se bilkul shaant nature ka hai."

Uday, Rajshree, and Milakshi stepped forward to receive them.

Their movements were practiced -

not rushed, not overly warm -

just dignified.

Rajshree (with formal warmth):

"Aayiye, swagat hai. Safar theek raha?"

Veerendra (slight nod):

"Bilkul. Taiyaari bahut acchi lag rahi hai."

Milakshi (composed, polite):

"Chaliye, baithiye. Sab intezaar kar rahe the."

Vivaan exchanged a short, respectful eye contact with Uday -

a silent acknowledgment -

not emotional, just appropriate.

Uday (brief, steady tone):

"Aayiye."

A servant came forward to guide them to the seating area.

They walked together through the decorated hall, where the soft glow of lamps reflected off gold embroidery and polished brass.

The engagement, now, had truly begun.

Everyone was seated now, the atmosphere warm with polite laughter and familiar talk. Rajshree and Veerendra's conversation blended softly with the sound of teacups being placed on trays. Vivaan was talking to Uday about his recent business expansion in Ajmer, while Mrs. Veerendra admired the house décor, occasionally whispering a compliment to Rajshree.

Then, after a while, Veerendra leaned forward slightly, his voice calm but carrying weight in the room:

"Toh... Aarohi ko bula lijiye, engagement start karte han?"

Uday nodded with a small, composed smile.

"Haan, abhi bulata hoon."

He turned to Milakshi, who was sitting beside Rajshree.

"Milakshi, jaiye... Aarohi ko neeche le aaiye."

Milakshi's posture straightened instantly. She stood up with a silent nod-no words, no expression-and walked toward the staircase.

The room remained filled with conversation, but there was a subtle shift-an anticipation.

Upstairs, the hallway was quiet when Milakshi reached Aarohi's room. She paused for just a second before pushing the door open gently...

Inside Aarohi's room..

The room was still, almost heavy. Aarohi sat before the mirror, staring at her own reflection without really seeing it. Her eyes looked tired, as if sleep hadn't touched them for days. The maroon lehenga rested beside her - beautiful, heavy, final.

The door opened.

Milakshi entered, her voice firm but not harsh:

"Aarohi... neeche bula rahe hain. Tayyar ho jao."

Aarohi didn't answer.

Her chest rose slightly - a breath taken carefully, so it wouldn't break into a sob.

She placed her hand on the lehenga.

Just touching it made her heart clench -

This is real.

This is happening.

Her voice was very soft, barely audible:

"Haan."

She stood slowly. Her movements were gentle, almost fragile, like she was afraid one wrong step would shatter whatever was holding her together.

Milakshi watched her, expression unreadable - no warmth, but also no cruelty. Just duty.

Aarohi's eyes glistened for a moment - not enough to fall, only enough to burn.

She blinked it away.

And the silence between them was filled with everything she could not say.

Milakshi walked down first, and Aarohi followed behind her. The hall was filled with voices and bright lights, but for Aarohi, it all sounded distant - like she was walking through a place where she no longer belonged.

Everyone turned to look.

She kept her eyes lowered.

Vihaan was standing near Veerendra, hands loosely folded in front of him, posture straight - not smiling, not excited, simply present. His face was serious, controlled, the kind of expression that didn't reveal anything.

When Aarohi reached the last step, she finally looked up - just once - because she had to.

Their eyes met.

Vivaan didn't soften.

He didn't look away either.

His expression remained the same - steady, unreadable, almost formal.

Like someone observing a situation, not feeling it.

Aarohi's heart tightened for a second - not out of affection, but out of acceptance of something she could not change.

She lowered her gaze again.

Rajshree stepped forward with a polite tone:

"Aa jao beta, yahan baitho."

Aarohi nodded slightly and walked to her seat - small steps, controlled, quiet.

Vihaan simply shifted his eyes away and resumed standing -

as if nothing significant had happened at all.

And the room continued its talking, its smiling, its celebration -

while only Aarohi felt the weight of the moment.

Across from her, Divyani observes her - eyes scanning her carefully, as if evaluating her.

After a moment, Divyani leans forward slightly, her smile polite but hollow.

Divyani (light but pointed):

"Aarohi, thik ho? Pichle do din bada shant-shant chal raha hai sab. Bas socha puch hi loon."

Aarohi lifts her eyes, a little unsure how to respond.

Aarohi (soft, controlled):

"Ji... sab thik hai."

Divyani gives a small nod - the kind that says she doesn't fully believe her, but also doesn't care enough to push.

She adjusts her earrings with slow confidence.

Divyani:

"Bas theek hi rehna. Aise din baar-baar nahi aate... aur sabke nazar aaj tum par hi rahengi."

A faint emphasis - behave properly.

Aarohi simply nods, silently.

Divyani's gaze travels over Aarohi's outfit and jewelry -

Something like approval flickers... but only briefly.

Divyani (with a tiny smirk):

"Tayyar toh acchi hui ho. Milakshi ka kaam hai... kabhi galat hota hi nahi."

The comment is not a compliment - it's a reminder:

Aarohi looks good because someone else handled it.

Aarohi lowers her eyes again, holding herself still.

Rajshree shifts slightly beside her - she recognizes the tone - but she remains quiet. This was not the moment to interfere.

Just then, Veerendra, standing near the archway, raises his voice loud enough to gather attention.

Veerendra:

"Theek hai sab log- agar sab tayyar hain toh hum engagement ceremony shuru karte hain."

The murmurs in the room soften.

People turn.

Chairs are adjusted.

Vihaan stands slowly from his seat.

Aarohi's heart gives one heavy,

controlled beat.

The ceremony begins.

The silver tray is held forward.

The room grows quieter - eyes watching.

Vihaan stands first.

Not with warmth, not with pride - just duty.

His posture is straight, his expression unreadable.

Aarohi rises slowly.

They stand facing each other.

Vihaan picks up the ring meant for Aarohi -

His movements precise, almost mechanical.

When he reaches for her hand, Aarohi's fingers instinctively pull back just a little.

Barely noticeable - but noticeable enough.

There is no soft reassurance from him.

No gentle words.

He simply pauses... looks at her...

not judging, not comforting.

Just waiting.

The kind of silence that says without speaking:

"We are in front of everyone. Don't make this difficult."

Aarohi feels the heaviness of that silence and slowly extends her hand.

Vihaan slides the ring onto her finger -

not tenderly, simply efficiently.

A few claps echo around the room - polite, nothing emotional.

Now Aarohi's turn.

She picks up the ring.

Her fingers tremble - just slightly.

She steps closer and lifts his hand.

Vihaan holds his hand steady - steady in a way that is not supportive, but practiced.

Aarohi places the ring onto his finger.

More clapping.

Divyani claps slower than everyone else - a hint of amusement in her eyes, like she's watching a play she already knows the ending of.

Milakshi smiles - but it doesn't reach her eyes.

Rajshree quietly exhales - relief mixed with ache.

Aarohi keeps her face still -

not smiling, not crying.

Just holding.

Vihaan doesn't look at her.

Not even once now that the rings are exchanged.

He simply steps half a step back - putting space between them - as if the moment is done, and so is his part.

Once the rings are exchanged, the atmosphere slowly settles into light conversation again.

Dinner is served, people eat, talk, and smile the way families do during events.

Aarohi and Vihaan remain in the same spaces, in the same room, but they do not speak to each other.

Not even once.

He is surrounded by a few of his relatives, answering politely when needed - but distant, unreadable.

She stays near Milakshi or Rajshree - quiet, graceful, composed.

Rajshree, on her part, looks content.

To her, everything has gone smoothly -

The ceremony was quiet, organized, and respectful.

Exactly how she wanted.

No suspicion.

No concern.

Just acceptance.

Slowly, guests begin to leave.

Car doors shut, voices fade at the entrance, footsteps echo away.

Divyani leaves with a slight satisfied smile.

Veerendra is pleased that the ceremony remained dignified.

Milakshi keeps herself busy with managing the last of the arrangements.

The house grows quieter.

Aarohi stands in the now nearly empty hall -

the noise gone, the lights dimmer, the air settled.

Vihaan has already stepped out - not looking behind, not pausing - just gone...

as if the evening was simply something that needed to be completed.

No goodbye.

No glance.

No acknowledgement.

Just silence.

Aarohi does not cry.

She does not speak.

She simply stays still -

like someone adjusting to the weight of something new sitting quietly on her hand and her life.

This is not an emotional breakdown moment.

It is the moment reality sets in.

This is not a beginning filled with excitement.

Nor an ending heavy with pain.

Just the start of something unknown -

calm on the outside,

quietly shifting on the inside.

A new chapter.

Not chosen.

But here.

(⁠✿⁠ ⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠)(⁠✿⁠ ⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠)

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