✨ Pratap Singh Mansion — The Hall of Shadows ✨
The hall was unrecognizable. Fresh marigolds and roses hung in meticulous arrangements, sparkling fairy lights twinkled from every corner, and the polished floors reflected the golden glow of chandeliers. Every detail bore Dev's signature precision, every inch whispering of a celebration that Kiara did not want.
Upstairs, the soft rustle of fabric echoed through the bridal room. Riddhi and Ruchi moved with practiced efficiency, helping Kiara into a long, flowy bridal lehenga, its soft pastel colors clashing cruelly with the storm inside her heart.
Kiara's hands trembled as she let them pin the dupatta over her head. Her eyes welled with tears, not from the beauty of the attire but from memories she could not shake.
Her mind drifted unbidden to that day—her first wedding with Yuvaan. The laughter, the music, the way his eyes had shone at her, the promises whispered under the canopy of stars…
And now, the same room, the same hands adjusting her attire, but the love she carried was trapped, powerless, overshadowed by fear and an unbearable choice.
A sob escaped her lips before she could stop it.
Riddhi's hand paused mid-air, and Ruchi placed a comforting hand over hers. "Kiara… breathe, beta. Everything will be fine," Ruchi whispered gently.
Kiara shook her head, the tears spilling freely now. "No… it's never going to be fine. Not without him… not without Yuvaan."
The room fell silent for a heartbeat, the weight of inevitability pressing down on them.
Downstairs, the hall gleamed, ready for a wedding that had not been chosen by the heart. Upstairs, Kiara sat between her friends, a bride in appearance only, while inside, a storm of love, fear, and despair raged relentlessly.
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Kiara's feet felt heavy as she descended the staircase. Each step seemed to echo through her chest, a painful rhythm matching the turmoil inside her heart.
The hall below glimmered in golden light. Every family member was impeccably dressed, their smiles wide and radiant, yet hollow in Kiara's eyes. Every laugh, every polite gesture, seemed orchestrated, choreographed. Even Dev stood there, immaculately dressed, his eyes shining with satisfaction. The corners of his lips lifted into a serene, self-assured smile, and Kiara felt the weight of the moment crush her further.
She sat beside him on the mandap, her posture rigid, her hands trembling in her lap. Her eyes darted briefly around the room, catching glimpses of Bhoomi's expectant gaze, Vikram's calm demeanor, Chandrika's quiet approval—all of them complicit, willingly or unknowingly, in this trap.
Dev's gaze lingered on her, calm and calculating. In the silence between them, he thought of the long months of planning, the careful steps, the subtle manipulations—everything finally leading to this moment. A small, triumphant smile tugged at his lips. His plan was bearing fruit.
Kiara, meanwhile, felt the walls of her heart tighten. Her chest ached with sorrow, yet she forced herself to remain composed, her veil brushing her shoulders, her hands folded delicately. Silent tears traced her cheeks, unheeded by anyone but the gods above.
In the quiet recesses of her mind, she whispered a prayer, voice barely audible: a desperate plea to the Tridev. "Please… guide me. Save my love… protect him… and if I am making a mistake, stop me."
Her lips trembled as the words hung in the air. Her heart, heavy with grief and fear, beat in tandem with the faint chime of the wedding bells. Every note seemed to mock her, reminding her of the life and love that hung in the balance.
Around her, the hall gleamed with festivity, yet in Kiara's eyes, the world had shrunk to the quiet despair of one solitary soul, trapped on the cusp of an impossible choice.
Kiara's gaze drifted instinctively across the hall, settling on the small temple at the far end of the room. The idols of Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati stood there, serene and eternal, bathed in soft golden light.
Her hands folded instinctively. Her lips quivered as she whispered a prayer, barely audible over the distant murmur of the wedding preparations.
"Mahadev… Parvati Devi… please… protect Yuvaan," she breathed, voice breaking. "I don't know what to do. My heart… my love… I cannot bear to lose him. Please, show me the path… guide my hands, guide my heart. Save him from this darkness that threatens to swallow him. If I am about to make a mistake, if my choice will harm him… stop me."
Her voice cracked. Tears filled her eyes, trembling on the brink of falling. A single droplet escaped, gliding down her cheek with impossible slowness. In the silence of the hall, unnoticed by anyone, the tear lifted gently from her face as though caught by some unseen breeze, and drifted upward. It hovered briefly, shimmering in the warm light, before disappearing toward the ceiling, carrying her desperate plea silently into the universe.
Kiara closed her eyes, clutching her mangalsutra, her chest heaving with grief and longing. Around her, the wedding hall sparkled with color and anticipation, but for her, all that existed was the small, sacred space between her and the divine idols.
A fragile hope flickered within her, fragile as a candle in the wind, that her prayer might reach them—and that somehow, Yuvaan would be spared.