The great hall was heavy with silence after the lawyer's announcement.
"The elder grandson, Anirudh Singh Rathore, must be married before his twenty-eighth birthday in order to inherit the throne… and his birthday falls the day after Rajveer Singh Rathore's wedding. Therefore, the marriage must take place the same day."
The lawyer's words still echoed against the marble walls. The family was shaken, whispers flying like startled birds.
Rajveer (stammering): "The same day? That's impossible—how can two royal weddings happen together? The arrangements, the rituals—"
Uncle: "And who will the bride even be? No alliance can be arranged overnight."
All eyes turned toward Anirudh. For once, the unshaken prince stood rigid, shock written across his features. His silence was no longer power — it was the silence of a man blindsided.
The lawyer rolled the will and bowed before leaving, his task complete. The family turned in desperation to the eldest presence in the room.
Rajmata (Anirudh's grandmother, and mother of the king ) rose slowly, her veil shimmering in the candlelight, her eyes sharp as ever. The weight of her authority filled the hall.
Rajmata: "Enough of this panic. The Rathores do not crumble before fate. The will demands marriage on the same day as Rajveer's wedding? Then it shall be so. By tomorrow, Anirudh will have a bride."
Another uncle (uneasy): "But, Rajmata, which family would accept such haste? To approach them without time, without dignity—"
Rajmata (coldly): "We do not need to look outside these walls."
Her words cut through the air. The family blinked in confusion, until her jeweled finger lifted, pointing across the hall. Toward where Ishika and Aayat stood quietly, caught in a moment that was not meant for them.
Gasps filled the room. Aayat's face went pale, her breath stalling in her chest.
Aayat (shaken): "M-me?"
Rajmata's gaze did not waver.
Rajmata: "You are the daughter of Arvind Sharma, the court's painter. A man of loyalty and honor. Do you think I have forgotten? When scandal once threatened this family, it was he who destroyed a portrait that could have ruined us. He asked for nothing in return, only said, 'Serving the Rathores is honor enough.'"
Her voice softened for a fleeting instant before turning sharp again.
Rajmata: "And now, fate has placed his daughter in this palace on the very night destiny demands a bride. That is no accident. That is divine will."
Aayat's lips trembled.
Aayat: "Rajmata-ji, please… I came only to help my friend. I cannot… I don't belong in this palace, in this life. I don't even—"
Rajmata (cutting her off): "Do you think women of this family ever belonged before they were married in? No, child. They learned. They endured. And you will too. Your father gave his loyalty to this dynasty — now you will give yours."
Aayat (choking on tears): "Marriage is not duty, it's… it's choice. My choice."
Rajmata's eyes turned colder, her voice like steel.
Rajmata: "Choice? A queen has no such luxury. You will marry Anirudh tomorrow, before sunset, or your father's honor will be forgotten. His sacrifice will be erased. Do you wish for his memory to be spoken of as betrayal instead of loyalty?"
The room held its breath. Aayat's knees weakened beneath her, her heart hammering as though it would burst.
Rajmata (final, absolute): "By tomorrow, child, you will stand beside Anirudh as his wife. This is not a request. It is your destiny."
She turned and swept out of the hall, her cane striking the marble floor in steady rhythm, leaving silence in her wake.
Aayat's tears spilled freely now, her chest rising in broken sobs. Ishika caught her as she staggered, holding her fiercely while the rest of the hall watched in stunned silence.
And in the corner, Anirudh remained still — a man bound to a fate he had not chosen, yet one no one dared question.