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The story begins where legends sleep and power breathes.

A grand palace rose against the darkened sky, its ivory walls glowing faintly under the moonlight. Tall domes and carved pillars stood like silent guardians of centuries-old pride. The palace wasn't just a home—it was a legacy, heavy with secrets and authority.

The silence of the road shattered as a car thundered through the night, slicing the stillness like a storm unleashed. Headlights cut through the darkness, racing toward destiny at reckless speed.

With a sharp screech of tires, the car came to a sudden halt before the palace's towering iron gates.

The door opened.

Dressed sharply in a flawless black suit, Rudradev Bhatt stepped out, his presence commanding the night itself. His stride was unhurried, his gaze cold and resolute—like a king returning to claim what had always been his.

The gates loomed before him.

And fate waited on the other side.

Without sparing a glance, he tossed the keys to a nearby butler and strode inside the massive palace like he owned the world.

The butler let out a sigh of relief the moment he was gone.

"Bare Kunwar sa has arrived..."

He immediately alerted the palace staff, knowing full well that whenever Rudradev was home, the entire palace had to be on its toes.

Rudradev entered the lavish living room. Finding no one there, he spotted a passing staff member and called out.

"Did you see Maa sa?"

"No, Bare Kunwar sa. I haven't seen Rani sa," the staff replied respectfully.

Maa sa – yes, Rudradev's world revolved around one woman: his mother, Devanshi .
The queen of Jaisalmer.
The queen of his father's heart.
His everything.

"Alright. You may go," Rudradev said curtly.

The staff member bowed slightly and rushed away.

Just then, a servant came walking from the opposite direction, carrying a mountain of steel plates that blocked his view.

As Rudradev turned to head upstairs, the two collided. The plates crashed to the floor, echoing through the palace like a clap of thunder. The servant stumbled and fell.

Rudradev narrowed his eyes and glared at him coldly. The servant froze, trembling under his gaze.

"What were you doing? Can't you do your job properly?" Rudradev snapped.

"So-sorry, sir..." the servant stammered.

"Sorry, my foot! Get lost from my sight!" Rudradev barked.

The poor man scrambled to gather the plates and fled the scene.

Rudradev muttered under his breath, trying to calm his irritation. Then, he made his way to the temple area of the palace in search of his mother.

There, he saw his father performing aarti, with Devanshi standing gracefully beside him, as always.

A small smile tugged at Rudradev's lips.

As he moved forward, someone tugged at his shirt. He turned sharply to find his little sister.

"What?" he asked, already annoyed.

"Your shoes, Bhai sa..." Akanshi pointed gently at his feet.

Rudradev sighed, growled softly, and removed his shoes before walking towards the temple, his sister by his side.

By then, the aarti had been passed to his younger brother – the second prince of Jaisalmer – Devaksh Bhatt, the devout worshipper of Mahadev.

Eyes closed in deep devotion, a Rudraksha around his neck, Devaksh looked peaceful.

Both Rudraksha and Devanshi were proud of their children — each unique in their own way.

Rudradev wasn't religious, but he was deeply devoted to the world of business. That devotion had made him India's number one businessman. He was known for his ruthlessness and lack of patience – except when it came to his mother. In her presence, even his rough edges softened.

Devaksh, on the other hand, had always been a spiritual soul. From childhood, Mahadev had been his guide. That didn't mean he had ignored his career. He was one of the world's finest painters, with his artwork selling for millions. But he never flaunted his success — humility was in his blood.

Then came the youngest, the heart of the family – Akanshi Bhatt. Not the brightest in academics, but the most loving and sincere. She handled the household with grace and joy. Cooking, caring, and keeping the family together – she did it all with a smile.

Devaksh opened his eyes and saw his elder brother and sister. A warm smile spread across his face.

"Baba sa, Maa sa – aarti," he said, offering the aarti thali to their parents.

Then he turned and stepped aside, revealing Rudradev and Akanshi behind him.

Their parents' faces lit up in surprise.

"Bhai sa," Devaksh said softly and handed the aarti to Rudradev, who bowed his head respectfully.

"Ladoo," he said next, smiling as he gave it to Akanshi.

The Bhatt siblings stood together in the divine silence, each carrying their own strengths and flaws — yet bound by love, loyalty, and legacy.

The evening prayer had ended, and the family gathered in the living room bathed in the golden hue of oil lamps.

Devanshi Bhatt sat with her face turned away, arms crossed, clearly still upset.

Rudradev sat at her feet, resting his head against her knees, his voice unusually soft.

"Maa sa... dekhiye na, humari taraf toh dekhiye..."
(Maa sa... please, at least look at me...)

From across the room, Akanshi giggled at the familiar drama.

"Baba sa! Look! Bhai sa is glaring at me again!" she complained with a mock pout.

Rudraksha , their father, frowned. He never tolerated disrespect towards the two most important women in his life—his wife and his daughter.

"Rudra!" he snapped.

"Sorry, Baba sa," Rudradev muttered, instantly obedient.

Devaksh, ever the gentle one, spoke up in his calming voice.

"Maa sa... at least forgive Bhai sa now. Please?"

"Bhai sa came home after two whole years," Akanshi added, "Maa sa won't forgive him that easily."

Trying to escape the situation, Rudradev turned to his sister.

"Laddoo, I'm feeling a bit hungry. Could you bring me your handmade coffee?"

"Weren't you just glaring at me a second ago?"

"I'm sorry, Laddoo. Your Bhai sa is requesting... after two years..."

Rolling her eyes with a smile, Akanshi left for the kitchen.

Though she struggled academically, currently pursuing a BA in History, Akanshi never felt small or undervalued. She loved cooking, found peace in the simplicity of her chores, and was the heart of the family. Her mother sometimes worried about her, being a top businesswoman herself. But Rudraksha never pressured their daughter—he believed in letting her bloom at her own pace.

Meanwhile, in the living room, the tension hadn't budged.

"Maa sa..." Rudradev tried again.

Devanshi didn't look at him. Instead, she addressed Devaksh coldly.

"Dev, tell your brother I am not interested in his pleading."

"Maa sa, you know I had to stay in Bangalore. They needed me there. Now things are settled and I'm back... please don't stay angry, my sweet Maa sa," Rudradev pleaded sincerely.

"That doesn't mean you vanish for two years! I've handled the same business, Rudra—don't try to teach me." Her voice was sharp.

"Fine! Give me any punishment, I'll accept it."

There was a flicker in Devanshi's eyes. Rudraksha's lips twitched, barely hiding a smile. Devaksh raised a brow, sensing something mischievous brewing but unsure of what.

Just then, Akanshi returned with a tray of pakoras and hot coffee.

"Bhai sa, you're still apologizing? I thought Maa sa had forgiven you. Never mind. Dev Bhai sa, I guess you and I will enjoy these crispy pakoras."

"Laddoo, don't tease! Something very serious is happening—sit down," Rudradev said hurriedly.

She joined them, curious.

And then it came.

"If you really want forgiveness," Devanshi said, eyes sharp, "then get married."

Silence dropped like a curtain.

Rudradev froze. Devaksh looked surprised. Akanshi gasped with glee.

"Maa sa... marriage?" Rudradev asked, stunned.

"Yes, Rudra," Rudraksha confirmed calmly. "Your mother and I have decided it's time. But first—if you have someone in your life, we'll support your choice."

"No, Baba sa. There's no one."

"In that case, we are meeting the bride's family tomorrow."

"Who is she?"

"That's a surprise. You'll know tomorrow."

"Bhai sa!! I'm so happy! I'll get a Bhabhi sa!" Akanshi squealed in excitement.

Devaksh hugged Rudradev tightly.

"I'm happy for you, Bhai sa."

Rudradev, however, sat quietly. Marriage? It had never been on his radar. The word didn't stir joy, fear, or resistance—just confusion.

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Banaras

The golden morning light filtered through the carved jaalis of the centuries-old haveli.

On the banks of the sacred Ganga, the city of Banaras had awakened. Pilgrims bathed at the ghats, conch shells echoed through the streets, and temple bells rang in rhythm with the soul of the city.

In the inner courtyard of an ancestral mansion, a woman in her forties stood, her crimson Banarasi saree glowing in the light. A brass thali in her hand, she performed the morning aarti, sandalwood paste on her forehead, her lips whispering ancient hymns.

Footsteps echoed down the staircase.

A younger woman appeared, graceful in a white cotton salwar suit, bathed in the soft glow of sunlight. She joined her mother in prayer, folding her hands silently.

"Maa, good morning," she said softly, wrapping her arms around her mother.

"Good morning, baccha," the woman replied, smiling through her weariness.

"Where is Papa?"

"Locked inside his room again. I swear, I don't know what to do with that man," her mother said, half-scolding, half-worried.

"I'll go call him for breakfast," Nandini offered gently.

Since the incident, her parents had stopped sharing a room. Her mother now lived upstairs. Her father chose the solitude of a room below, away from arguments, away from past pain.

She pushed open the heavy wooden door to find her father struggling to reach his glasses.

"Papa!" she rushed to help.

"Ah, Butterfly... you always come like the first breeze of spring," he smiled.

She placed the glasses on his mouth , kissed his forehead.

"Then asked why you didn't call anyone."

"I have been like this for more than 10 years , this isn't a disease Guriya, it's just how i am "

The breakfast table was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly fried pooris, aloo sabzi, and a bowl of warm kheer. Usually, mornings at the Chaturvedi residence echoed with light-hearted conversations, but today an unusual silence lingered in the air.

Her father gently cleared his throat.

"I have something to say."

Every pair of eyes turned toward him.

"I've spoken to the Bhatts," he announced calmly. "I've accepted a marriage proposal for Nandini. The boy, Rudradev Bhatt, is well-educated, respected, and belongs to a good family."

Silence swallowed the room.

The soft clink of spoons against brass plates came to an abrupt halt.

Nandini froze, her spoon suspended halfway to her lips. For a brief moment, she wasn't sure if she had heard him correctly.

"But... Papa..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Her mother looked at her with a gentle yet warning glance, silently asking her not to argue at the dining table.

"There are no 'buts,' beta," her father replied firmly. "I've only asked you to meet him next week. At least meet him once before making any decision."

Nandini lowered her eyes.

"...Ji, Papa."

She forced herself to finish breakfast, although every bite now felt tasteless.

A while later, Nandini stepped out of the haveli for her meeting at the party office.

Nandini Akhand Chaturvedi.

A name that carried influence far beyond her years.

One of the youngest and most respected faces of the opposition party, she had earned every bit of her reputation through intelligence, discipline, and unwavering dedication. She wasn't merely carrying the Chaturvedi surname—she was carrying forward the legacy of her grandfather, the legendary Pratap Chaturvedi.

People admired her strategic mind.

Her calmness during heated political debates.

Her ability to take difficult decisions without allowing emotions to cloud her judgment.

Even leaders from the ruling party couldn't help but acknowledge her remarkable political strategies.

Despite completing her PhD in Physics from Oxford University, Nandini had chosen politics over laboratories and research.

Not because she lacked opportunities elsewhere.

But because politics had always fascinated her.

As a little girl, she would quietly sit beside her grandfather during meetings, watching him solve people's problems with patience and wisdom. Somewhere between those conversations and public rallies, she had fallen in love with this profession.

Today, she wore what she always preferred—a graceful handwoven saree.

Not because society expected it.

Not because politics demanded it.

She wore sarees because they made her feel confident. They reminded her of who she was.

With a composed expression, she settled into the back seat of her car.

"Toh chalein, madam?" the driver asked with a smile.

She simply nodded.

The car slowly pulled out of the driveway.

A convoy of security vehicles followed closely behind.

After driving for several minutes, the driver glanced at her through the rear-view mirror.

"Nandini... sab theek hai?"

"Hmm."

She continued staring outside the window.

The passing trees, busy streets, and clear blue sky failed to distract her wandering thoughts.

A few moments later, he asked again.

"Kya hua?"

Again...

Nothing.

She merely shook her head.

This time, instead of asking another question, the driver quietly slowed the vehicle before bringing it to a stop beside a bridge overlooking the river.

Nandini didn't react.

Without saying a word, she opened the car door and stepped outside.

Immediately, the convoy of security vehicles halted behind them.

The bodyguards instinctively moved forward, but the driver raised his hand, silently signalling them to stay where they were.

He knew she only needed a few moments.

Nandini slowly walked toward the edge of the bridge.

The gentle breeze brushed against her saree as she rested her hands on the railing.

Below, the river flowed peacefully.

Above, the endless sky stretched without limits.

For a long moment, she simply stood there.

Finally, she broke the silence.

"Papa... meri shaadi karna chahte hain."

The man standing beside her smiled softly.

He didn't interrupt.

He simply listened.

Without a word, Nandini opened the car door and stepped out.

The convoy of black SUVs following her immediately came to a halt. Seeing her leave the car, the bodyguards instinctively moved forward, but the driver raised a hand, signalling them to stay back.

"I'll handle it," he said softly.

The bodyguards nodded and remained beside their vehicles.

Nandini walked silently towards the bridge overlooking the river. The cool breeze played with the loose strands of her hair as she rested both hands on the railing.

For a long moment, she simply stared at the flowing river below and the endless sky above.

Then, in a quiet voice, she finally spoke.

"Papa... meri shaadi karna chahte hain."

The man standing beside her smiled.

He didn't say anything.

He simply smiled.

Nandini turned to him, narrowing her eyes.

"You're smiling, Kanha? Seriously?"

Kanha let out a small laugh.

"I was wondering what could possibly shake my Sakhi's heart so much. I thought there was some huge political crisis." He chuckled. "And here you are... worried because your father wants you to get married."

Nandini shot him a sharp glare.

The smile instantly disappeared from Kanha's face.

"Okay... okay." He raised both hands in surrender. "I'm serious now."

After a brief pause, he smiled warmly.

"But honestly, Sakhi... isn't this good news?"

She frowned.

"You'll have someone who loves you, a family of your own, and someday..."

His eyes sparkled with excitement.

"...little kids running around the house."

He pointed at himself proudly.

"They'll call me Kanha Mama."

A smile unconsciously crept onto his face.

"I'll spoil them so much."

Nandini groaned in frustration.

"Can you stop talking, Kanha?"

He blinked innocently.

"I don't want to get married."

He tilted his head.

"Why?"

Then, unable to resist teasing her again, he added,

"Or... you simply don't want me to become a mama?"

Nandini glared at him so intensely that he immediately cleared his throat.

"Right... serious mode."

He leaned against the railing beside her.

"Tell me the real reason."

Nandini remained silent for a few seconds before finally speaking.

"Kanha... I still have so much to achieve."

She looked at the river.

"I've only just started building my career."

"My dreams... my responsibilities... they're all waiting for me."

"What if the boy or his family doesn't support my work?"

She sighed.

"You know how society thinks."

"They already question women in politics."

"People don't even consider politics to be a proper career, especially for women."

"What if after marriage they expect me to leave everything behind?"

Kanha quietly listened.

He understood every word.

After all, he had watched Nandini grow up.

From climbing mango trees together as children...

...to standing beside her during election campaigns...

...to celebrating every victory and comforting every defeat.

Perhaps no one knew Nandini better than he did.He smiled gently.

"I understand your fears.But don't reject the proposal before meeting him.What if Rudradev turns out to be different?What if he understands your dreams?What if his family is more progressive than you imagine? What if they become your biggest support instead of your biggest obstacle?"

Nandini looked at him thoughtfully.His words weren't entirely wrong.

After a moment, she slowly nodded.Kanha smiled with satisfaction.

"That's my sensible Sakhi."

He checked his wristwatch before lightly tapping her shoulder.

"Now enough overthinking."

He pointed towards the waiting convoy.

"We're already getting late."

Nandini took one last look at the flowing river before turning back. The convoy once again came to life as both of them got inside the car.

Nearly twenty minutes later, the vehicles entered the party headquarters. The moment Nandini stepped out, party workers greeted her respectfully.

"Namaste, Nandini ji."

"Good morning, ma'am."

She acknowledged each greeting with a polite smile before walking inside. As they made their way through the corridor, Kanha opened his diary.

"Today's schedule is packed."

"You have a meeting with the youth committee at eleven, a media briefing at one, a constituency development review at three, and the central committee meeting in the evening."

Nandini nodded while flipping through the files handed to her.

Being one of the youngest members of the party was never easy.Every decision she made was closely observed.Every word she spoke carried weight.

As she reached the conference room, she quickly scanned the financial reports placed before her.

Her eyes stopped at one particular file.Her expression immediately turned serious.She looked up.

"Why is Brijmohan ji allocating public development funds to this project?"

Everyone in the room fell silent. She closed the file and spoke firmly.

"This expenditure serves no real purpose.We are public representatives.We are not here to waste the people's money."

The secretary listened carefully to Nandini's instructions and immediately nodded.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll inform Brijmohan ji about this."

With that, she collected the files and walked away.

The other members who were present also slowly left the room, leaving behind only silence.

Just then, Kanha entered.

"Nandini... I mean, sorry, ma'am."

Nandini looked up at him.

A small smile appeared on her lips.

"You don't have to say that, Kanha."

But Kanha simply shrugged.

"I know. But in front of everyone else, it's always 'ma'am.'"

He walked closer and sat comfortably on the chair opposite her.

"You know I have to maintain your image."

Nandini shook her head slightly.

"He'll never change."

Kanha smiled.

"Never."

A few moments later, he leaned back on the chair, looking at her with a satisfied expression.

"By the way, I have decided to help you."

Nandini looked up from the file she was reading.

"Help me?"

"Yes."

"With what?"

Kanha smiled mischievously.

"I'll find out everything about the man you're going to marry."

Nandini immediately looked away.

"Oh."

She picked up another file from the table, pretending to be completely uninterested.

It was a report regarding water problems in some villages.

Kanha noticed her act but didn't say anything.

He only smiled slightly.

"So... what did your father say his name was?"

Nandini continued reading.

After a moment, she paused.

"Bhatt."

She frowned slightly, trying to remember.

"His surname was Bhatt. I don't remember the first name properly."

Kanha nodded.

"Exactly."

He smiled.

"The name is Devash Bhatt."

Nandini stopped reading for a second.

"Devash..."

She repeated the name quietly.

Then she looked at him.

"Okay. How is he?"

"Is he a good person?"

Kanha looked at her with a mysterious expression.

Then he smiled.

"With a spark."

Nandini frowned.

"A spark?"

Kanha nodded seriously.

"Nandini... he is a devotee."

Her eyebrows pulled together.

"A devotee?"

She looked confused.

"What do you mean? Does he do drugs or something?"

For a second, Kanha stared at her.

Then he burst into laughter.

"Drugs?"

Nandini looked at him seriously.

"What?"

Kanha shook his head, still smiling.

"No, Sakhi."

"He is a devotee."

"And that is more powerful than drugs."

Nandini folded her arms.

"What is more powerful than drugs?"

Kanha laughed softly.

"Leave it. You'll understand when you meet him."

He stood up and took out his phone.

"I'll collect his picture and all his details."

He pointed towards the file in front of her.

"Until then, read your important files instead of worrying."

With that, he walked out.

Nandini's eyes followed him for a moment.

Then she looked back at the empty chair.

The file Kanha had left behind was still lying on the table.

Devash Bhatt.

A stranger.

A name she had no desire to know.

She picked up the file regarding village water issues again, trying to focus.

Marriage was never a part of her plan.

Why couldn't she simply stay with her parents and continue her work?

Why did life always have to change?

But somewhere deep inside, she knew her father wasn't forcing her because he wanted to control her.

He wanted her to have someone beside her.

Someone who would understand her.

Someone who would stand with her when the entire world stood against her.

Because even though Nandini was strong...

Even though she could fight battles alone...

A small corner of her heart still wished to experience that feeling.

The feeling of having someone.

Someone who would be hers.

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The night was swallowed by darkness.

A lone figure moved through a dimly lit room where silence itself felt terrifying.

The only sound that echoed through the space was the slow, rhythmic tink... tink... tink... of something sharp dragging against the floor.

A metal rod.

Each step sent a chill through the air.

A man was tied to a chair in the corner of the room. His hands and legs were restrained, his face covered with a piece of tape that trapped every desperate scream inside his throat.

He struggled.

He tried to shout.

But all that escaped were broken, muffled sounds.

The man walking through the darkness continued his slow steps, enjoying every moment of fear he created.

Suddenly...

He stopped.

The room went completely silent.The tied man froze.Then the voice came.

"Mufasa..."

A pause.

"Mufasa..."

The moment he heard that name, the captive man's body went still.

It wasn't just a name.

It was a warning.

A memory.

A fear he knew too well.The figure in the darkness started walking again.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

The sound of the metal rod returned.

Tink...

Tink...

Tink...

Until finally, the man stopped right in front of him.The captive man's breathing became heavier.He could feel someone standing close.

Watching him.

Even through the darkness, he could feel that terrifying gaze on him.

His eyes squeezed shut tighter.He didn't want to see who was standing there.

He didn't want to know.But the man in the darkness leaned closer.As if he could see everything clearly despite the absence of light.Then he spoke softly.

"Aree..."

His voice carried a strange amusement.

"Dekho toh hume zara..."

A small pause.

"Hum itne bhi bure dikhte nahi hain."

For a moment, there was silence.And then...A dangerous laugh escaped his lips.A laugh that didn't sound human.

The man tied to the chair trembled.Every muscle in his body screamed to run.

But he couldn't.And still...He didn't open his eyes.The man placed his hand on the side of the chair and tilted his head slightly.

"So..."

His voice was calm, almost unsettling.

"You are not going to open your eyes, right?"

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"Then I guess I will have to open them for you."

The tied man's breathing became heavier.

The man standing in the darkness slowly straightened his posture. His presence alone was enough to fill the room with fear.

He looked down at the helpless man sitting in front of him.Then his voice turned cold.

"Laksh."

A man standing nearby immediately stepped forward.

"Yes, Guru."

Guru didn't even look away from the captive.

"Tell Kiara to take out his eyes."

The room fell silent.

"Donate them to the hospital."

He paused for a moment.

"A poor child needs eyes."

The tied man's body went completely still. His eyes opened in terror as he looked at Guru.The fear on his face was impossible to hide.

His entire body started trembling.But Guru remained expressionless.As if he had just given an ordinary instruction.Laksh lowered his head.

"Yes, Guru."

Guru turned around and walked away from the room, leaving behind a silence heavier than before.

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