After a quiet dinner, the house slowly withdrew into silence, one room after another surrendering to the night.

Sanskriti returned to her chamber and took up her brushes,standing before the canvas as if it might steady her restless heart.

She painted not for beauty,but for peace to quiet her thoughts of Ved,and of Atharva,both lingering like unfinished verses in her mind.

She was so deeply engrossed that she did not notice her mother’s presence until a gentle voice called her name.

“Sanskriti…”

She turned, startled.Saudamini stood by the doorway,her expression uncharacteristically soft.

“Come,” her mother said quietly.

“Sit with me for a moment.”

The tone unsettled her.Sanskriti had never heard such tenderness in her mother’s voice. Sensing something different, she set her brushes aside and joined her on the bed.

Saudamini took her hand, holding it with care.

“That man you once cared for,”she said gently,

“he was not right for you.I am glad you did not choose to follow him.Some paths only lead to sorrow.”

She paused, gathering her words.

“It is time you move forward, my child.”

Sanskriti’s heart tightened.

“Today,” her mother continued,her voice steady yet warm,

“Prince Atharva sent his proposal for your hand.”

Sanskriti’s breath caught.

“I am truly happy,”Saudamini said, emotion creeping into her voice.

“My daughter… a future queen. Married into a royal family. It is more than I ever dared to hope for.”

Her eyes glistened as she cupped Sanskriti’s cheek.

“Now I can rest easy.If fate were to take me tomorrow,I would have no regrets.I would know my precious daughter is safe,honored, and cherished.”

Tears welled in Sanskriti’s eyes and spilled freely down her cheeks.She lowered her gaze, unable to speak.

Her tears were not for the proposal,nor for the grandeur it promised but for Ved.For the man who had spoken of love,who had painted himself as something he was not,and who had left her behind with nothing but broken trust and unanswered feelings

She leaned into her mother’s embrace,crying quietly,her heart heavy with loss even as a new future stood before her, waiting.

Saudamini held her daughter close until her sobs softened, then gently drew back,cupping Sanskriti’s face in her hands.Her voice,though still tender,carried a firmness that left no room for doubt.

“Sanskriti,” she said quietly, “I want you to listen to me.”

Sanskriti lifted her tear-filled eyes.

“I have lived long enough to know the difference between dreams and security,”

her mother continued.

“Love that is built on lies withers, but a bond founded on honor endures.”

She paused, choosing her words with care.

“I have given you time.I have watched you hope, and I have watched you grieve.Now, as your mother, it is my duty to guide you toward what is right for you.”

She squeezed her daughter’s hands gently.

“You will marry Prince Atharva.”

The words fell heavy in the room.

“He is a man of position and responsibility,” Saudamini said,her tone resolute.

“He has come forward with respect and intention, not whispers and promises.With him, you will have a future that is secure, dignified, and honored.”

Sanskriti’s lips trembled, but she did not protest.

“I am not asking this of you as a command alone,” her mother added softly.

“I am asking it as a mother who wishes only peace for her child’s life and for her own heart.”

She drew Sanskriti into her arms once more. “Trust me, my child.This is the right path.”

Sanskriti drew back slightly, her eyes still wet, her voice trembling yet resolute.

“Maa,” she said,forcing the words out,

“Prince Atharva’s reputation is not… good. Everyone speaks of him as a man who does not take women seriously.A Casanova.”

Her fingers clenched in her lap.

“How can you expect me to marry such a man?”

Saudamini listened,her expression unreadable.

“And I have only one year left of my college,” Sanskriti continued, her voice breaking despite her effort to remain composed.

“Just one year.I wish to complete my studies before any such decision is made.”

Saudamini’s softness faded.Her posture straightened,her tone turning firm unyielding.

“No,” she said simply.

Sanskriti looked up,startled.

“I have given you enough time,”her mother continued.

“Now you will do as I say.You will prepare for this marriage.”

The words struck like a verdict.

“When Prince Atharva comes to meet you,” Saudamini added,her voice precise and commanding,

“you will accept the proposal.You will speak gently,you will smile, and you will show no hesitation.I will not tolerate any mistake or embarrassment.”

She paused, then spoke with conviction.“Do not believe idle talk.The prince is a good man.He has agreed to clear our debts,to secure your father’s position in the royal court,and to look after this family with honor.”

Each word weighed heavily on Sanskriti’s heart.

A quiet ache spread through her chest not of anger alone,but of humiliationTo her, it no longer sounded like a marriage.It sounded like a bargain.A transaction made to secure status, comfort, and safety.

She felt small.Exchanged.As though her future had been decided not by her heart, but by necessity.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze.Her face had gone blank, her tears stilled,her voice empty of protest.

“I will do exactly as you wish, Maa,” she said quietly.

Saudamini nodded, satisfied.

But as Sanskriti turned away, something within her broke not loudly, not dramatically but enough to leave her heart aching in a way she knew would never quite heal.

A week later,

Atharva was in his chamber when the telephone rang, its sharp sound cutting through the quiet of the room.He lifted the receiver with practiced ease.

“Hello,” he said calmly.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” came Saudamini’s composed voice from the other end.

Atharva straightened slightly. “Good evening, Mrs Rana.”

“I hope I am not disturbing you,”she said politely.

“I wished to inform you that I would be honored if you would join us for dinner tomorrow evening.”

There was a brief pause before Atharva replied, his tone warm yet assured. “The honor would be mine, Madam.I shall be there.”

“I look forward to it,” Saudamini said, relief and satisfaction evident in her voice.

“As do I,” Atharva replied, before the line went silent.

Atharva set the receiver back with a faint smile that refused to leave his lips.The invitation pleased him more than he cared to admit.He knew what it meant.He also knew who would be there.

Without delay, he reached for the telephone again.

“Devika,” he said when she answered, his voice carrying an unmistakable note of excitement,

“I need your help.”

She laughed softly.“That sounds serious.What is it?”

“I have been invited to dinner tomorrow,” he replied.

“I want you to select a few outfits for me.I must be properly dressed for the occasion.”

Devika understood at once. “Ah,”

she said gently, “so she will be there.”

“Yes,” he answered simply.

She smiled, genuinely pleased for him.

“Then I shall choose carefully.You must look impeccable.”

When the call ended, Devika remained seated for a moment longer, the receiver still in her hand.She was happy for her friend truly so. Seeing Atharva this certain,this focused, filled her with quiet pride.

Yet somewhere deep within her heart, an old ache stirred.He had been her first love,a feeling she had never spoken aloud and had long since taught herself to hide.She let out a slow breath, steadying herself.

Some loves, she knew, were never meant to be claimed.They were meant only to be endured silently,with grace.

The next morning,Devika made a quiet decision of her own.She sent word to the studio, requesting that her shoot for the day be postponed.

The reason she gave was simple and professional, but in her heart, she knew why she had chosen to free her day.

By noon,she was with Atharva,moving through the rows of finely tailored garments laid out for him.

She examined fabrics with a practiced eye, lifting collars, adjusting cuffs, and discarding anything that did not suit his bearing.

“This one,"she said at last,

holding up a carefully chosen ensemble.

“It suits you.Dignified,yet unmistakably you.”

Atharva studied it,then nodded with approval. His anticipation for the evening was evident,a quiet eagerness he made no effort to hide.

Devika masked her emotions behind calm efficiency,offering suggestions,adjusting details, and ensuring everything was perfect. She played her part flawlessly supportive, composed, and attentive.

Yet as she watched him prepare for a future that did not include her, she felt a familiar ache settle in her chest.She said nothing.

Some feelings,she knew, were best kept unspoken,especially when love had chosen a different path.

As evening descended, the house was prepared for dinner with careful precision.Lamps were lit one by one,their warm glow softening the high walls and long corridors.

The dining room took on a quiet elegance, the table laid with fine and polished silver,every detail attended to with restrained grandeur.

Atharva arrived punctually,dressed impeccably, his presence commanding yet composed.



Saudamini and her husband welcomed him warmly, their affection evident in the ease with which they received the prince. Atharva returned their courtesy with equal grace and soon took his seat in the sitting room, appearing perfectly at ease though his eyes wandered now and then,searching for a familiar presence.

Minutes passed before soft footsteps announced her arrival.



Sanskriti entered the hall dressed in a beautiful suit,her grace effortless,her beauty striking in a way that always seemed to catch him unaware. She had been reminded firmly to smile,to be gentle,to carry herself with elegance.And so she did.Every movement was measured, every expression carefully composed.

But the moment her gaze lifted and fell upon Atharva, she froze.

Shock flickered across her face before she could stop it.This was the man The stranger she had encountered before.The one whose presence had unsettled her, whose manner had annoyed and disturbed her in equal measure. And now she stood before him as a guest no, as a prince.

Her heart skipped, but she recovered swiftly.

“Sanskriti,” her mother said smoothly, unaware of the storm behind her daughter’s eyes,

“allow me to introduce Prince Atharva.”

Sanskriti masked her surprise at once,a polite smile settling on her lips as if nothing had been amiss.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” she said softly, inclining her head in greeting.

Atharva’s gaze held hers, a trace of amusement flickering beneath his composed exterior.

Before anything more could be said, a maid stepped forward respectfully.

“Dinner is served,” she announced.

Saudamini gestured toward the dining room, and together they moved in that direction each step carrying them closer to a conversation neither had expected, yet neither could now avoid.

Takecare my lovely Ladies ❤️

Hope you're enjoying this story.

Love_Qiana❤️