Evening had painted the sky a burnt orange as silence wrapped around Rathore Palace, located in the heart of Jaipur’s regal lands. The walls whispered secrets—some centuries old, some just a few hours fresh.

In his private chamber, Abhay Singh Rathore stood by the arched window. Dressed in a black silk kurta, he looked like a man carved out of obsidian—cold, controlled, unbreakable. In one hand was his phone, and in the other, a steaming cup of black coffee.

Behind him, the door opened without a knock—only one person had that liberty.

Aryan Kapoor, his best friend and confidant, leaned against the doorframe with his usual smirk.

"Tumne usse dekha?" Aryan asked casually.

Abhay didn’t turn, eyes still fixed outside.

"Dekha."

"Kaise lagi?"

"Seedhi hai. Sanskaari. Aur... anjaani iss duniya se."

Aryan chuckled. "Aur tumhare jaise aadmi ke liye... perfect mismatch."

Abhay’s lips twitched slightly—half amusement, half warning.

"Mismatch hone mein hi toh maza hai."

The playful air shifted as Rajmata Devyani Rathore entered. She carried the grace of a queen and the steel of a warrior. Her presence silenced even Aryan.

"Beta, tumhare pita tumse baat karna chahte hain."

Abhay nodded once, placing the coffee cup down. With Devyani walking ahead, he followed—his steps echoing like fate approaching.

---

Royal Meeting Hall – Rathore Palace

The room smelled of sandalwood and legacy. Large portraits of ancestors watched over them as Maharaja Veer Singh Rathore sat on his high-backed chair, eyes sharp despite age.

"Sitara Rajvanshi wapas aa gayi hai," Veer Singh said, his voice even but commanding.

"Main jaanta hoon," Abhay replied calmly.

"Shadi ka samay aa gaya hai, Abhay."

No flicker crossed Abhay’s face, but something shifted in his aura. He stepped forward slightly.

"Main apna wada nibhaunga, dad. Lekin ek shart hai."

Rajmata Devyani raised a brow.

"Kya shart?"

"Yeh shadi meri marzi se hogi. Din ke ujale mein main ek raja hoon... lekin raat ke andhere mein jo hoon, woh unhe kabhi pata nahi chalna chahiye."

A beat of silence passed.

Veer Singh leaned back, eyes unreadable. Rajmata, however, stepped closer.

"Bas yaad rakhna, Abhay... raaton mein chhupa sach kabhi-kabhi din ki roshni se jal jaata hai."

Abhay looked her straight in the eye, his voice like velvet laced with iron.

"Main kabhi jalta nahi, Rajmata. Main sirf bhadakta hoon."

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Abhay kya chuppane ki btt kr rha h??