Prologue
Some marriages begin with vows.
Theirs began with a secret no one was ever meant to find.
The palace was celebrating.
Udaipur Palace shimmered in gold—flowers spilling over marble steps, shehnai echoing through corridors, blessings rising with incense smoke. A love marriage, everyone said. Destined. Perfect.
Inside the study room, the truth waited behind a locked door.
The silence there was deliberate.
She entered first, the red of her bridal robe brushing the floor like a warning. Gold bangles circled her wrists, heavy, ceremonial. Her hair was only half pinned—unfinished, much like the promise she was about to make.
He was already inside.
Seated. Composed. Dangerous in his calm.
Ivory sherwani. Straight shoulders. A legal file open on the long wooden desk, its pages aligned with unsettling precision. A man preparing not for a wedding—but for a war.
He didn’t look up.
“You’re late.”
She stopped.
Folded her arms slowly, chin lifting in quiet defiance.
“I’m never late,” she said evenly.
“Everyone else is simply… early.”
For a fraction of a second, something flickered across his lips—gone before it could soften him. His eyes rose to meet hers. Sharp. Familiar. Unforgiving.
He slid the file toward her.
“Read before you sign,” he said.
“This isn’t a game.”
She sat opposite him, unhurried, the chair scraping softly against the floor. The papers whispered as she turned each page—legal language, cold clauses, distance dressed as dignity.
A marriage written in ink, not emotion.
She read aloud, voice steady, almost detached.
“We act like a couple in front of the world and our families.”
A pause.
“In private, we respect each other’s space and privacy.”
The shehnai outside grew louder, as if mocking them.
“No interference in each other’s personal lives unless necessary.
Professional disagreements stay at work.
Families are respected. Always.”
She turned the page.
“Whenever in public, we do what’s needed to look like a real couple.”
The word real cut deeper than intended.
“No public fights.
If either of us is in trouble, we stand united—rivalry postponed.”
Her eyes dropped to the final clause.
“We don’t share a room. If unavoidable—bed and couch. Turn by turn.”
She looked up slowly.
“That clause,” she said quietly, “feels especially written for you.”
“And the second one,” he replied without missing a beat, “exists because of you.”
Their gazes collided across the table.
No warmth.
No surrender.
Just years of rivalry humming beneath the surface—and something else neither dared acknowledge.
This wasn’t a wedding.
It was containment.
She picked up the pen.
She signed first.
The ink flowed smoothly, decisively—no hesitation, no tremor. When she slid the file back, their fingers brushed.
Barely.
It should have meant nothing.
Her breath caught.
His hand froze.
The moment stretched—dangerous, fragile, alive.
She recovered first, leaning back with a faint smirk.
“Relax,” she said lightly.
“I always knew you handled only contracts.”
His jaw tightened.
“And I assure you,” he said quietly, “I don’t hold on to things that don’t matter.”
He signed next.
Slow. Controlled. Almost deliberate—as if every stroke carved something permanent into him.
He closed the file.
“It’s done.”
She stood, smoothing her robe.
“Good,” she said. “Now we can go get married.”
She turned—
Her dupatta snagged on the desk.
Before she could react, he was there. Too close. His fingers freed the fabric carefully, lingering a second longer than necessary. Their shoulders brushed. Her pulse betrayed her.
When she looked up—
He was watching her.
Not with rivalry.
Not with mockery.
With something darker. Unnamed. Dangerous.
For one suspended heartbeat, the contract vanished. The palace disappeared. There was only shared air and a truth neither was ready for.
She stepped back sharply.
“Careful,” she said coolly.
“That wasn’t part of the contract.”
A faint smirk curved his lips.
“New clause,” he murmured.
“You’ll stay out of trouble… whenever possible.”
Her laugh escaped—soft, unwilling, real.
And that frightened her more than the lie they were about to live.
The door opened.
Music surged. Blessings waited. Seven sacred vows stood ready.
They walked out side by side.
To the world—it was a love marriage.
To them—it was a contract signed in silence.
And somewhere inside that locked room,
beneath ink and tradition,
a secret was born—
one powerful enough to destroy everything
if it ever came to light.
Would they allow their hearts to lead them to a new beginning, or would the ghosts of their past tear them apart?
In the end, would love be the ultimate victory, or would their rivalry consume them both?
Stay tuned for updates on the story... ✨🦋
Aesthetics of the characters coming soon... ✨
Author:
~ Eshani Rathor
