After the final rituals were completed and the sacred fire slowly died down,the palace of Rajgarh shifted from solemn tradition into glowing celebration.

The drums changed rhythm.The shehnais sang joy.Guests rose from their seats,showering the newlyweds with petals and blessings.Elders came forward one by one,touching Atharva and Sanskriti’s heads,whispering prayers for long life,honor,and unity.

Sanskriti sat beside Atharva as his wife now,her veil still drawn,her hands decorated with fresh henna and bangles that chimed softly every time she moved.Atharva looked calm,proud, and deeply content as if everything he had ever fought for had finally led him here.

The feast was announced.Servants moved swiftly,guiding the guests toward the royal dining hall where silver thalis and traditional Rajput dishes waited.

But before anything else…

It was time for the vidaai.

The time for vidaai came like a quiet storm.

The music softened.Laughter slowed.And suddenly,the palace that had been full of celebration felt unbearably heavy.

Sanskriti stood up slowly,her bridal veil slipping over her trembling shoulders.This was the moment she had been dreading the moment when a daughter leaves her home forever.

Her father stepped forward first.

He tried to speak,but no words came.

Instead,he pulled her into his arms.

For the first time that day,Sanskriti broke.

She clutched his sherwani and sobbed into his chest,her tears soaking the silk.

“Baba…” she whispered,her voice small again, like a child.

Her father held her tightly,his own eyes burning.

“Go, my daughter,”he said hoarsely.

“And live with dignity.Wherever you are…your home will always be here.”

Then her mother came forward.

Saudamini Devi had been strong all morning composed,royal,unshaken.

But now,she couldn’t pretend anymore.

She wrapped Sanskriti in her arms,holding her as if she could keep her there just a little longer.

“Forgive me if I ever hurt you,”she whispered. “Be happy, my child…even if I am not beside you.”

Sanskriti cried harder.

Her mother kissed her hair,her forehead,her cheeks trying to memorize her face.

And then,with trembling hands,she let her go.

The doli waited.

And with every step Sanskriti took toward it,a part of her stayed behind in her father’s arms and her mother’s tears.

                                     ***********

The royal gates of Rajgarh opened slowly,as if the palace itself was preparing to receive its new queen.

The doli stopped at the grand entrance of Rajgarh Palace.Hundreds of lamps lit the marble steps,and the night air shimmered with incense and rose petals.

Atharva stepped down from his horse and held out his hand.

Sanskriti took it.Her heart was heavy,her eyes still damp from vidaai,but her posture remained graceful.

Rageshwari Devi stood at the front with a silver aarti plate.She performed the welcoming ritual, circling the flame in front of Sanskriti’s face and blessing her.

After performing the aarti,she gently dipped Sanskriti’s palms into turmeric paste.

“From today,”she said softly,“you bring prosperity and light into this house.”

Sanskriti pressed her haldi smeared hands against the palace doorway.

Golden handprints bloomed on the white stone.

Then a small brass kalash,filled with rice and coins,was placed near her feet.With a hesitant but steady step,Sanskriti nudged it forward.

The pot rolled gently inside,spilling grains across the threshold symbol of abundance entering the palace.

Now came the final ritual.

A small silver tray with red alta was set before her.She dipped her feet into the crimson dye.

And with her very first steps into Rajgarh as Atharva’s wife,she left behind bright red footprints on the marble floor marking the arrival of Lakshmi into the royal house.Sanskriti bowed and touched her grandmother's feet.

As she walked deeper into the palace, everything felt too big,too quiet,too unfamiliar.The ceilings were high.The walls were cold with history.The chandeliers glowed like distant stars.

She was no longer just Sanskriti of Rana’s mansion.She was now the daughter-in-law of Rajgarh.

After the griha pravesh,the palace did not rush the night forward.

Sanskriti was first led to the puja room,where she and Atharva offered prayers together for the first time as husband and wife.

The priests blessed them again this time not as bride and groom,but as a married couple, responsible for a household,a lineage,and a kingdom.

Then came the mooh dikhai.Elder women of the royal family gathered around Sanskriti, gently lifting her veil.One by one they studied her face with warmth and curiosity,offering jewelry,silk scarves,and whispered blessings. Rageshwari Devi placed a heavy gold necklace around her neck, declaring before everyone, “From today,she is the honor of Rajgarh.”

After that,the couple was taken to the royal sabha hall for the ashirvaad.Ministers,nobles, and generals bowed before them.They did not just bless a marriage they welcomed a future king and queen.Sanskriti felt the weight of every gaze.Every step she took echoed with responsibility.

After the formal rituals,the palace mood finally lightened.It was time for the after-wedding games the ones meant to break the ice between the bride and groom and bring laughter into a day heavy with tradition.

The first was the ring-finding game.

A large silver bowl filled with rose water,milk, and marigold petals was placed between Atharva and Sanskriti.A ring was dropped into it,and both of them had to search for it with their hands at the same time.

The women around them giggled.

Atharva,confident and playful,plunged his hand in quickly.Sanskriti,shy but composed, followed.Their fingers brushed once just for a second.

She froze.He smiled.

The ring slipped between their hands like a secret.Atharva almost grabbed it,but Sanskriti without even realizing how,found it first.

Cheers erupted.

The elders laughed.

“Looks like the queen will rule the house,” someone teased.

Sanskriti lowered her eyes, her cheeks warming.

Next came the paan feeding ritual.They had to feed each other betel leaf.Atharva leaned in first,teasingly slow.Sanskriti,nervous and careful,offered hers quickly and looked away the moment he accepted it.

More laughter.

Then came the name letter game.Atharva was asked to write Sanskriti’s name in rice grains with his finger.He wrote slowly,deliberately,as if each letter mattered.When he finished,he looked up at her like he already owned those letters.

She felt her breath hitch.

The games continued soft jokes,gentle teasing, stolen glances.

To the palace,it looked like a perfect beginning.

But inside Sanskriti’s heart,the laughter felt distant.

Because even in games meant to bring closeness…

she still felt alone.

Later,in a quieter chamber,came the chooda and kangana rasam her bangles were admired, adjusted,and blessed.The women laughed softly,teasing her about her new life,trying to ease the heaviness of the day.

And finally,as the night deepened,the palace lights softened.

Sanskriti was no longer a daughter waiting to be guided.

She was now a royal bride,wrapped in tradition, duty,and a future she had not chosen but could no longer escape.

The rituals were over.

Her new life had begun.

After all the laughter,blessings,and rituals,the palace slowly grew quiet.

The lamps dimmed.The music faded.The guests drifted away.

And finally…it was time for the first night.

Sanskriti was led to the royal chamber her new room,her new world.The walls were draped in silk,the air heavy with jasmine and sandalwood.

A single oil lamp glowed near the bed,its flame trembling like her heart.

She sat at the edge,her hands folded in her lap.

Not as a bride full of dreams but as a woman full of silence.

Her bangles felt heavier than before.Her veil rested on her shoulders like a burden.Every sound outside made her breath tighten.She didn’t know what to expect…only what she feared.

After a few moments,the door opened softly.

Atharva stepped inside the chamber and stopped.

Sanskriti was sitting at the edge of the bed,her long veil falling over her face like a curtain of silence.The room glowed with warm lamp light, but she looked distant untouchable.

His heart lifted at the sight of her.

My wife.

He closed the door behind him and turned the lock.The sound echoed louder than it should have.Slowly,carefully,he walked toward her, every step filled with a strange mix of pride, desire,and hope.

He reached out and lifted her dupatta from her face.

For the first time that day,he truly saw her.

The mangalsutra rested against her neck.The red vermilion marked her hairline.Every symbol whispered the same truth to him.

"She is mine now."his heart was racing really fast.she was no longer just the girl he desired. She was his wife now.His responsibility.His pride.His future.

A quiet,boyish happiness stirred in his chest. His lips curved into a soft smile,not arrogant, not cruel just deeply,foolishly in love.

In that moment,the world felt complete to him. As if all his struggles,all his defiance,all his fights with fate had led to this one room…and this one woman sitting before him.

But that happiness did not last.The moment Sanskriti lifted her eyes,everything shifted.

Their gazes locked.

And in her eyes there was no shyness,no warmth,no love.There was fury.

Cold,Sharp and Unforgiving

It struck him harder than any slap.

Before he could speak,before he could even understand what had changed,her voice cut through the room like steel.

“Your agreement is done here and there is no need to pretend,”she said,every word trembling with anger.

“And Don’t touch me ever again.”

Atharva felt something inside him crack.

The smile faded from his face,replaced by shock…and then a slow,aching pain.

He stood there,stunned not because she pushed him away,but because of what he saw in her eyes.

Not fear.Not confusion.But deep,burning hatred.

And in that moment,he finally understood what he had been refusing to see all along.

He had married her by destiny…

but her heart still belonged to somewhere else.

Without saying a single word,Atharva turned away from her.

The room felt suddenly too small,too heavy with things unsaid.He walked back toward the door, his steps sharp and wounded.

When he reached it,he didn’t look back.The door opened and then slammed shut behind him with a force that made the lamps tremble.

The sound echoed through the palace.

Moments later,from the silence that followed, Sanskriti heard it.

The low growl of a car engine.

Then another.

And then the crunch of tires moving away.

Her breath hitched.

She sat there frozen for a few seconds,still staring at the place where he had stood.Only when the sound faded into the night did the weight of what had just happened crash over her.

Her eyes burned.Her chest tightened.

She pressed her palms into the bed as if trying to hold herself together,but the tears came anyway quiet at first,then unstoppable.Her shoulders shook as everything she had been holding inside finally broke free.

She wasn’t crying because she had hurt him.

She was crying because she had been trapped.

Because her life no longer felt like it belonged to her.

Because the man she loved was somewhere else…and the man she had married had just walked out of her life with a door between them.

Sanskriti bowed her head into her hands,her veil slipping down as sobs escaped her lips.

In the stillness of the royal room,surrounded by silk and gold and symbols of a marriage she

never chose,she cried the way only a woman cries when her heart and fate are at war.

Hey beautiful Ladies ❤️

So what do you think she will love him ??

What Atharva will do??

Let me know in the comments section.

Love_Qiana❤️