The Pratap Singh Mansion – Main Hall
The grand chandelier glittered above the high-ceilinged hall, its crystals scattering golden light across the polished marble floor. The air buzzed with music, laughter, and the rhythmic clinking of jewelry as guests arrived in silks and brocades, their chatter rising over the soft tunes of the live sitar player in the corner.
At the entrance, Aarti, graceful in her emerald saree, stood beside Jarnail, stiff as ever in his formal bandhgala. Mahua, Jarnail's younger sister-in-law, gleamed in a crimson silk saree, her sharp eyes darting over every guest as if inspecting their worth. Beside her, her jovial husband Badshah—Jarnail's younger brother—beamed at everyone, his booming laugh filling the air as he greeted each guest personally.
"Welcome, welcome!" Badshah declared as Aarti's in-laws entered—a refined elderly couple, smiling warmly. He clasped the old man's hand with both of his. "We are honored to have you with us today. My niece's big day—ah, what a blessing!"
Mahua, meanwhile, offered a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Do come in," she said smoothly, eyeing the gifts they brought. "I trust your journey was… comfortable?"
Aarti, ignoring the subtle edge in Mahua's tone, stepped forward to take the elderly woman's hands gently. "We are so happy you're here," she said sincerely. "Vrinda will be overjoyed."
As the guests moved inside, Arjun made his entrance from the staircase above. Dressed in his deep teal sherwani jacket over a half-unbuttoned white shirt, his long curls falling perfectly into place, he descended like he owned the place, a playful grin already tugging at his lips.
"Ah, the princess of the day!" he announced as he spotted Vrinda, who stood with Veer near the center of the hall, greeting cousins. "And my serious-faced brother, looking like he's guarding Buckingham Palace!"
Vrinda turned, eyes narrowing even as a laugh escaped her. "Arjun, could you not make a scene for five minutes?"
"Scene?" Arjun gasped dramatically, stepping onto the floor and spinning once to show off his outfit. "This is style, darling sister. There's a difference. Now, where's my hug before you're stolen away by your groom's family?"
Vrinda rolled her eyes but hugged him anyway. Veer, tall and broad-shouldered in his classic ivory sherwani, gave his younger brother a light smack on the back.
"Finally decided to show up, hmm? We thought you drowned in your own bubble bath," Veer teased.
Arjun clutched his chest. "Lies! I merely elevated the art of bathing. And might I add—I look better than the groom will. Sorry, Vrinda, it's true."
Laughter rippled among the nearby cousins, and even Vrinda couldn't hide a grin.
Across the hall, Jarnail's eyes briefly softened as he watched the siblings together—but when his gaze shifted to Aarti, that softness vanished. His jaw tightened, and he turned away to greet another guest.
Unnoticed by all, in the shadows of an upper balcony, Nikki watched silently, her serpent coiled invisibly around her wrist, its emerald eyes glinting as it surveyed the hall.
The Mehendi Begins
The hall transformed into a vision of color and festivity. Low wooden seats were set across the floor, bright cushions in pink, orange, and gold scattered around them. Henna artists sat cross-legged, their cones ready, while the dholak player struck up a lively beat. Women danced in a circle near the center, their bangles jingling in rhythm.
Vrinda entered, radiant in a deep magenta lehenga embroidered with gold, her long hair adorned with fresh jasmine. The sleeveless blouse she wore showed off her toned arms, delicate yet confident. For a moment, all eyes were on her, and applause followed.
Then, her fiancé, Raghav, walked in with his family. He was a tall, well-groomed man in a cream sherwani, smiling politely as he greeted everyone. But beside him, his mother—a stern woman draped in a heavily jeweled saree—let her sharp eyes sweep over Vrinda from head to toe.
"Well," she said with a thin smile as she approached, "such a… modern choice of outfit, Vrinda dear. Sleeveless for a bride? In our family, modesty is a sign of respect."
The comment was loud enough for nearby guests to hear. Vrinda's smile faltered slightly, her fingers brushing nervously over her lehenga.
Before Aarti could respond, Arjun stepped forward, voice light but carrying an unmistakable edge.
"Ah, finally! I was wondering when someone would remind us all that women's clothing is apparently a public matter," he said cheerfully, clapping once. "Good to know the traditions are still alive."
The room went silent for a beat. Raghav's mother stiffened. "Excuse me?"
Arjun tilted his head, grinning innocently. "I mean, you must have eagle eyes to notice sleeves—or the lack of them—over all this color, music, and happiness. Impressive talent, truly. Maybe next you can judge my buttons—they're open, see?" He gestured to his unbuttoned shirt collar. "Scandalous, isn't it?"
A few younger cousins stifled laughter. Vrinda shot him a grateful look.
But Jarnail's voice cut through the air like a whip.
"Arjun!"
Arjun turned to see his father striding over, face dark with anger. "This is not the time for your insolence," Jarnail said coldly. "Apologize to our guests. Now."
Arjun's grin faded, but only slightly. "For defending my sister?"
"Enough," Jarnail snapped, his voice low but deadly serious. "Do as I say."
The tension was palpable. Vrinda's fiancé glanced between them awkwardly, and even Badshah shifted uncomfortably. Aarti stepped forward, trying to smooth things over.
"Let's not spoil the moment," she said gently, taking Vrinda's hand. "It's her day. Shall we begin the mehendi?"
Raghav's mother sniffed but said nothing more. The music started again, though the atmosphere had changed—something unsaid hanging in the air.
The mehendi artists' cones glided over Vrinda's palms, leaving behind intricate patterns of peacocks and vines as the dholak beat grew faster. Guests clapped to the rhythm, their voices rising in celebratory songs.
Raghav extended his hand, and the henna artist finished the final swirl on his palm. Laughter followed as relatives teased the couple.
Then, Arjun appeared, clapping loudly.
"Enough sitting, lovebirds!" he called, grabbing Vrinda by one hand and Raghav by the other. "What's a celebration without a dance?"
"Arjun—" Vrinda began, but he was already pulling them to the center of the hall.
The dholak player caught on instantly, transitioning into a lively bhangra beat. The crowd erupted into cheers, circling around as Arjun twirled Vrinda once, then shoved Raghav playfully toward her. Soon, everyone joined—Veer clapping to the beat, Aarti smiling proudly, even Badshah stomping in rhythm.
Laughter, music, and the whirl of colors filled the air—until something strange slipped through unnoticed.
At the far end of the hall, near the refreshment tables, a woman in a crimson saree stood perfectly still. Her hair fell forward, obscuring her face. She slowly raised a glass of wine to her lips and sipped, though her body never seemed to breathe.
When a waiter passed by, her hair shifted just enough to reveal eyes glowing an unnatural red—and her feet faced backward beneath the saree's hem.
Her gaze lifted toward the massive crystal chandelier above the dancers.
The crystals began to tremble.
Unseen by the guests, a thin crack of darkness snaked along its chain.
Suddenly, the chandelier jerked violently, snapping free from the ceiling.
"Look out!" someone screamed.
Gasps filled the hall as the enormous crystal mass plummeted downward—directly above Arjun, Vrinda, and Raghav.
Veer moved without hesitation. He lunged forward, shoving Arjun and Vrinda out of the circle, sending them sprawling across the marble floor.
The chandelier crashed with an ear-splitting BOOM, shattering into a storm of glass shards and twisted metal.
Cries of panic rang out. Guests scrambled back.
Arjun rolled to his feet instantly and turned to see Veer on the ground, clutching his arm, blood seeping through his sleeve from a jagged cut.
"Veer!" Arjun dropped beside him, his usual playful tone gone. "Bhai, are you—?"
"I'm fine," Veer hissed, trying to stand. "Help Vrinda."
Arjun glanced at his sister—shaken but unharmed—then back at the destruction. His gaze swept the room, sharp and searching.
Across the hall, the woman in crimson had vanished.