The mehndi celebration was alive with music, the clinking of bangles, and the fragrance of henna, until an unfamiliar voice cut through the cheer. The family lawyer had arrived, his black coat and solemn face jarring against the brightness of the occasion. Within minutes, laughter was silenced, instruments stilled, and the guests politely led away. Only the royal family, along with Ishika and Aayat, remained in the great hall.
The lawyer unrolled a scroll bound with the late Maharaja's seal. His voice was steady, but the weight of his words bore down like stone.
Lawyer: "As per the will of His Highness Maharaja Veer Pratap Singh Rathore, succession to the throne shall be conditional. The elder grandson, Anirudh Singh Rathore, must be married before his twenty-eighth birthday in order to inherit his right as heir. Should he fail, the crown and its privileges shall pass to extended kin."
A hush fell over the chamber. The chandeliers above seemed to flicker, as though the words themselves unsettled the air.
The lawyer glanced down again, his voice sharpening.
Lawyer: "His Highness's twenty-eighth birthday falls the day after Rajveer Singh Rathore's wedding. Therefore, the marriage must take place on the same day as Rajveer's ceremony."
The silence fractured into gasps and hurried whispers.
Rajveer (shaken): "The same day? That's… impossible. How can we—how can a royal wedding be prepared overnight?"
An uncle: "And before sunset, no less. The Maharaja left no room for delay."
Eyes darted toward the tall figure standing apart from the crowd. For once, the unshaken prince seemed caught off guard. Anirudh's jaw tightened, his hands curled into fists at his sides. The flicker of shock in his eyes betrayed what words could not — he had not expected this.
The lawyer bowed his head.
Lawyer: "I have spoken the will as it was written. The rest is for the royal family to decide."
He stepped back, his duty complete, leaving a silence thick with tension.
And then Rajmata Devi rose. Regal and unbending, her voice carried the command of generations.
Rajmata: "The Rathores have never faltered before destiny. We will not falter now. If the will demands marriage on the day of Rajveer's wedding, then it shall be so. This family will not be shamed, and this throne will not slip away."
Her words cut through the panic like steel, silencing every whisper.
But across the room, Aayat's breath caught in her throat. She didn't know why her heart suddenly raced — only that something in those words felt like the turning of a key in a lock she had never seen.