The palace corridors were quieter now. The golden chandeliers cast warm light over the marble floors while distant sounds of the palace slowly faded into the night. Veer wheeled himself through the corridor. He was only a few feet away from his room when a voice stopped him.

“Veer.”

Veer closed his eyes and jaw tightened. Because the voice belonged to his mother. Slowly he turned. Vaishali Ranawat stood at the end of the corridor with both hands folded across her chest. “Kya hum puch sakte hai ki yeh hum kya sun rahe hain? Aapne Kynat ko pehli hi raat kamre se bahar nikal diya?”  (May I ask… what exactly am I hearing ? You threw Kynat out of your room on the very first night? )

Veer sat in his wheelchair, his face unreadable. But his eyes were fixed on the floor, refusing to meet his mother's gaze. “Humne ne kuch nahi kiya,” he said flatly. “Humne bas usse space di.” (I did nothing. I just gave her space.) 

Vaishali narrowed her eyes. “Humse seedha jhooth bolna kab se shuru kar diya tumne?” (Since when did you start lying to me?) 

Veer sighed. “Maa, I gave her another room. I made sure she was comfortable. And? I arranged everything she could possibly need.”

Vaishali raised a hand. “Nahi Veer. Beta... shaadi koi business contract nahi hoti. Vo ladki apna poora ghar chhod kar aayi hai or Phir uska pati usse pehli hi raat kamre se bahar bhej deta hai? Kya ye aacha lagta hai..? Aapne galat kiya hai?”  (No, Veer. Beta… marriage is not a business contract. That girl left her entire home behind, and then her husband sends her out of the room on the very first night? Does that feel right to you? You’ve done wrong.)

Before he could answer, Kynat walked through the corridor and Veer saw her and instantly paused. She had just reached the upper floor. Her crimson saree flowed behind her. A few loose strands of hair framed her face. She looked beautiful. Veer immediately looked away.  The moment she saw Veer and Vaishali standing with folded arms. She immediately understood something was wrong. Kynat instantly tried to retreat. “H-Hum baad mein aate hai.” (I-I'll come later.)

Kynat was about to leave but Vaishali stopped her. “Nahi, Kynat. Aap idhar aaiye.” (No, Kynat. You come here.) 

Kynat immediately obeyed and stopped beside her. “Kynat, Kal raat aap alag kamre mein kyun soyi thi?” (Kynat, why did you sleep in a different room last night? ) 

Kynat instantly pointed toward Veer. “Unhone bheja tha. Nhi nhi Bheja nhi tha. Nikal hi diya tha.” (He sent me. No… not just sent. He had thrown me out.)  Vaishali slowly turned toward her son with a scolding look. Veer looked away, suddenly very interested in the chandelier. Then she turned to Kynat. “Toh aapne mana kyun nahi kiya?” (Then why didn’t you refuse?)

Kynat opened her mouth then closed it. Then I opened it again. “Kyuki humein innke saath nahi rehaina tha. Ye bohut khadoos hai.”  (Because I didn't want to stay with him. He’s very grumpy.) She pointed directly at Veer.

Veer slowly turned toward her, one eyebrow rising. "Oh?" 

Kynat folded her arms. "Ji haan, Mr. Nakchhadi."  (Oh! Yes, Mr. Grumpy) 

Veer frowned. “Nakchhadi? Aapne humein Nakchhadi kaha? Nakchhadi toh ladki ko kehte hain!”  (Nakchhadi? You called me Nakchhadi? Nakchhadi was for girls) 

Kynat shot back, “Haan isiliye toh humne Mr. bhi lagaya. Sunna nahi kya aapne? Khadoos banne mein thoda kam dhyaan diya kijiye toh sunai bhi dega!” (Yes, that’s why I added ‘Mr.’ Didn’t you hear? If you paid a little less attention to being grumpy, you might actually listen!)

Veer huffed, sulking. “Theek hai. Phir hum bhi aapko Mrs. Nakchhadi se bulayenge.” (Fine. Then I’ll call you Mrs. Nakchhadi.)

Kynat gasped. “No way! That’s cheating!”

And just like that both started fighting like kids. And Vaishali, she watched them with complete shock. “Bas. Aap dono bacche ho kya?” (Enough. Are you both children?) Vaishali shouted and both went silent. Then she pointed toward Veer’s bedroom door.  “Ab Koi kuch nhi bolega or humari baat suno. Aaj se aap dono ek hi kamre mein rahoge.”  (No one will say anything now. Listen to me. From today, the two of you will stay in the same room.)

Kynat and Veer both jaw dropped. And then at the exact same moment both voices collided at once. “WHAT?”  Both opened their mouths to argue, but Vaishali raised her hand. “Humein koi bahana nahi chahiye. Aap dono ek hi kamre mein rahoge. Chahe ek dusre ko dekho ya na dekho. Chahe baat karo ya nahi. Yeh hum ara aakhri faisla hai.”  (I don’t need any excuses. You both will stay in the same room. Whether you look at each other or not, whether you speak or not—it doesn’t matter. This is my final decision.) 

 She didn’t wait for arguments. Her hands shot out and one wrist in each grip. Before Veer or Kynat could even blink, she practically dragged them toward the room. “Maa!” Veer protested. “Maa!” Kynat echoed, equally indignant. 

The door creaked open. Both were shoved inside. “Goodnight.” And the bedroom door slammed shut behind Vaishali. The moment the door locked behind them, both turned toward each other. And simultaneously, “It's your fault.” Both froze. Veer taunts her. “Did you just copy me?” Kynat folded her arms. “No, you copied me. And you're very rude. Are you always like this?”

Veer leaned back, utterly composed. “Yes.” 

Kynat glared at him. “Kitne ajeeb aadmi hain aap.” (You're such a strange man.) Veer’s lips curved into a smirk. “Humne bhi aapke baare mein kuch aisa hi socha tha.” (I thought the same thing about you.) Kynat huffed, arms folding tighter. “Hum aadmi nahi… aurat hain!” (I’m not a man… I’m a woman!) Veer tilted his head, pretending to think. “Strange woman then.” Kynat gasped. “What? That’s even worse!” 

Veer rubbed his forehead, already done with the argument. “You can sleep here,” he said, his voice cold, flat, devoid of any emotion.  Kynat blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.” His voice became cold again. “The room is yours.” Then he pointed toward a section of silk-covered wall. pressed a hidden switch. A section of wall silently slid open and an entire concealed door appeared. Kynat's eyes widened. “What is that?”

"My private wing. I’ll stay there."  He wheeled himself toward the hidden door. "Wait,"  Kynat called out. "If we're doing this...We need rules and boundaries. I’m not going to be your prisoner." Veer paused. He slowly turned around. “Rules? Fine. Go ahead with your rules, Maharani Sa.” 

Kynat lifted her chin proudly, then began counting on her fingers: 

"You stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine. Veer nodded, calm. "Accepted."

"You don't touch me. Ever. Without permission." He tilted his head, smirk tugging at his lips. "Accepted." 

"No ordering me around." Veer leaned closer, voice low and cold "Rejected." 

Kynat froze. "What?!"  Kynat opened her mouth to argue, but he continued.  "This is my palace, my room and my kingdom. I don’t want you doing anything that lands you in trouble." 

Kynat huffed but agreed. "Fine." Veer nodded once. Then he wheeled himself toward the hidden door. The door clicked shut behind him.

Kynat stood alone in the center of the massive bedroom. She shook her head and walked towards the bathroom. She pushed it open and froze. The bathroom was massive. Marble floors. A sunken tub big enough for four people. A rainfall shower with gold fixtures. Shelves lined with bottles of expensive shampoos, oils, perfumes. Soft white towels stacked in neat piles.

For a moment, she just stood there, overwhelmed.

She stripped off her saree and stepped into the shower. The water was hot, the soap was expensive, and she let herself stand under the spray for a long time, letting the tension wash away. When she finally stepped out, she wrapped herself in one of the soft white towels and opened the bathroom wardrobe. Her breath caught. Inside were rows upon rows of silk nightgowns—deep burgundy, midnight blue, forest green, soft blush. Each one is more beautiful than the last. Next to them, arranged like a boutique display, were skincare products, serums, moisturizers, face masks, oils. Everything she had ever dreamed of owning but could never afford. Everything her stepmother had hoarded for herself while telling Kynat she wasn't worth the money. 

She chose a simple silk nightgown—deep burgundy, the color of dried blood—and slipped it on. The fabric was cool against her skin, softer than anything she had ever worn. She applied the skincare products mechanically, her mind elsewhere.  She remembered being fifteen, standing inside a shopping mall and looking at a similar skincare bottle. “Mummy...Can I have this one?” Sudha's laugh echoed inside her memory.  “You? Do you know how much this costs? Girls like you don't need these things. You're lucky we even feed you.”

The memory hurt. Even now. But now it was here. For her. Without asking. Without begging.  Her eyes filled with tears and whispered to herself. “Why?” she whispered. “Why would a stranger give me more than my own family ever did?” After freshening up, she returned to the bedroom and climbed into the massive bed. Finally, exhaustion won. She fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

— — —

The next morning, Kynat woke to the sound of running water. She sat up groggily, her hair tangled, her eyes still heavy with sleep. The room was bright with morning light streaming through the massive window. She looked toward the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar. Light spilled out. And she could hear movement inside. “But I locked the door last night. I'm sure I did.” 

Then the bathroom door opened wider and Veer wheeled out.

Wearing nothing but a towel.  Kynat's brain short-circuited. The towel was wrapped low around his hips, revealing a chest that was not the chest of a cripple. Broad shoulders. Muscular arms. His skin was tan, scattered with a few pale scars—old wounds, healed long ago. But his body, she had expected a weak, emaciated frame. She had expected someone who couldn’t walk, whose muscles had atrophied from disuse. And unfortunately, her eyes forgot to stop looking. 

Veer's voice suddenly broke her thoughts. “Ho gaya aapka?” (Done staring?) Kynat immediately looked away. “What?” His eyebrow lifted. “Aankhon se poora inspection kar liya? Ya aur time chahiye? Izzazat ho kuch pehan loon?” (Did you finish inspecting me with your eyes? Or do you need more time? If you permit, may I wear something?) Her face instantly heated. “Pehen lo,” (Go ahead, wear) she snapped, turning away. “I don't care.”

Kynat’s face flamed red. He was wheeling toward the wardrobe on his side of the room, his back straight, his wet hair dripping onto his shoulders. “Bhagwaan, hum tharki toh nahi hoon na?  Lekin innke biceps toh bade paav jaisa hai. Nahi. Nahi. Main tharki nahi hoon,” she muttered to herself.

He caught her looking and raised an eyebrow. “Main sun sakta hoon” (I can hear you.) Kynat immediately looked away.  "Good for you. Well, you could have knocked!” He turned to look at her. “Knock? This is my room. And anyway… looking at you, it seems like you’re enjoying the view?”

“You wish,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was just... surprised. That’s all. How is this possible? Your shoulders... your arms... You don’t look like someone who can't walk.”

Veer looked away and his voice became colder. “You thought I was a helpless cripple. Everyone thinks the same way that I am weak. That's the point.” Kynat immediately regretted it. “I didn't mean—”

“Physical therapy,” he interrupted, “I'm not completely paralyzed. My body works. Only my left leg doesn't.”

“Don't worry,” Kynat muttered. “You're still insufferable.” Veer's eyebrow lifted. “And you’re still staring.” She looked away so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash. “I am not staring.” He smirks “You're blushing. Your face is red.”  Kynat quickly thought about excuses. “It’s hot in here!”  Veer looked around. “The room has air conditioning.” 

Kynat became quiet. Then muttered, “Chup rahiye.” (Be quiet.) “Can you please put some clothes on?” she said through gritted teeth. Veer tilted his head. “Why? Does it bother you?” She nodded quickly. “Yes. Very much.”

He pulled a black shirt from the wardrobe and began putting it on without turning around. Kynat watched his back muscles flex as he moved—smooth, powerful, completely unlike someone who spent their life in a chair. “You were drooling.”

“I was not—” She touched her chin. Dry. Thank God. “You're insufferable.” Veer’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smirk.  “And you're standing in front of me in a nightgown that leaves nothing to the imagination. We all have our flaws.” 

Kynat looked down. The burgundy silk was thin—too thin. In the morning light, it was practically transparent. She could see the outline of her own body, every curve. She grabbed a pillow and held it in front of her like a shield. When he was fully dressed, he turned to her. “The bathroom is free,” he said. “Try not to take all day. The family will expect you for breakfast.”

And then he wheeled out of the room, leaving Kynat alone with her racing heart and burning cheeks.

The moment Veer left the room, Kynat stood there silently. Her eyes were still fixed on the door through which he had disappeared. She didn't understand him. Kynat shook her head. “Pagal ho jaogi tum, Kynat.” (You will go crazy, Kynat.) She sighed and went towards the bathroom, hoping the hot water would clear her head.

The bathroom was still steamy from Veer's shower. The mirror was fogged. His towel, the one he had been wearing was crumpled on the floor. Kynat picked it up to hang it properly. The fabric was still warm. And it smelled like him. Sandalwood. Something dark and wild. She caught herself holding it longer than necessary and dropped it like it had burned her. “Focus, Kynat. Focus.”

Kynat showered quickly, trying not to think about Veer. When she finished, she reached for a towel. There was none. “Shit.” She checked the towel rack, cabinet under the sink and  shelf above the toilet but it was empty. She had been so distracted by Veer's everything. that she had forgotten to bring a towel into the bathroom with her. “Kynat, yaar, ye humara ghar nahi hai. Hum towel laana kaise bhul sakte hai?” (Kynat, my friend, this isn't your home. How did you forget to bring a towel?) 

She looked around desperately. The only fabric in sight was Veer's discarded towel, the one she had hung up. She stood there for five more minutes, shivering in the cool air, before finally giving in. She grabbed the towel and wrapped it around herself. It was huge and  wrapped around her twice, covering her from chest to mid-thigh. And it smelled so much like him that she felt lightheaded. “Get a grip. It's just a towel.”  She told herself and opened the bathroom door, stepping into the bedroom.

She walked to the wardrobe, the massive, beautiful wardrobe that she had only glimpsed last night and opened it fully. And froze. The bedroom wardrobe was enormous. First the bathroom and then this…On one side, hanging in perfect rows, were clothes for her. Silk sarees in every color imaginable—deep emerald, royal blue, sunset orange, midnight black. Each one was paired with matching blouses and jewel sets. On the other side, equally organized, were Veer's clothes. kurtas, shirts, trousers, black suits. 

Her fingers touched a beautiful red saree. She smiled faintly. Then quickly stopped. “Why did a stranger's kindness hurt more than my own family's cruelty?” She dressed slowly, wrapping the saree around herself, pleating the pallu, draping it over her shoulder. The blouse was sleeveless and backless. It fit perfectly, too perfectly, hugging her curves, leaving her arms and back bare.

She was drying her hair with Veer's towel. Just then,  the door opened and Veer wheeled in. He froze.  For a moment, the cold king disappeared. Veer's eyes moved over her—slowly, deliberately, taking in every detail. The curve of her neck. The bare expanse of her back. The way the crimson silk clung to her waist. But Kynat noticed. “What?” She asked defensively. 

He didn’t respond because he had turned around at some point. He was watching her, his eyes dark, intense, moving over her face, her neck, the curve of her shoulder where the pallu had slipped. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, “The towel.”

Kynat blinked. “What about it?” Veer didn't answer immediately. He wheeled closer, his gaze never leaving her. “That's my towel,” he said finally. Kynat's cheeks flushed. “There were no other towels.” Veer arched a brow, unimpressed. “There are always other towels. You didn't look hard enough.”

“I looked everywhere!” She shot back, defensive. “Clearly not.” His eyes flicked to the towel on her hand. “You're using my personal towel.” Kynat's flush deepened. “I didn't know it was your personal towel. And maybe you shouldn't leave your things lying around.” He wheeled closer. “Maybe you shouldn't take things that don't belong to you.” Kynat pulled the towel off her head and threw it at him. He caught it one-handed, effortlessly. “Nice catch,” she said sarcastically. Veer twirled the towel in his hand, unfazed. “I have my moments.” 

She crossed her arms, voice sharp. “You have a lot of things, apparently. Towels. Expensive skincare. A wardrobe full of clothes I never asked for. Why?” Kynat stepped closer, her bare feet silent on the marble. “Why did you do all this? The clothes, the products, the room. You don't even want me here. You made that very clear last night.” Veer was silent for a moment. The towel hung from his hand, forgotten. “Because,” he said quietly, “no one should have to beg for basic necessities.” Kynat huffed. “Whatever, you're overreacting. Either way, it's just a towel.”

“Nothing in this room is just anything. Everything is mine. Including that towel.” He wheeled closer. His gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes. “Including you.” Kynat froze, his words sinking deeper than she wanted to admit, her heart pounded. “You're being ridiculous.”

“I'm being territorial.” He stopped just inches away, voice lowering. “That towel… it’s been on my skin. And now it’s been on yours.” His eyes flicked down again, then back up, deliberate. “Do you understand what that means?” Kynat’s pulse hammered so loudly she was sure he could hear it. “It means… nothing.”

“You made rules and boundaries last night. Remember?” Veer leaned closer, His face inches apart from her, whispering, each word heavy with intent. “It means you’ve already crossed a line you didn’t even know existed.” Kynat froze, the world seemed to narrow until there was only him, his voice, his gaze, the heat of his presence. She tried to look away, but his eyes held her captive, pulling her in. Her lips parted, but no words came. She was lost and caught between defiance and something she couldn’t name, something that made her heart hammer harder with every second. 

Then someone knocked on the door. The knock shattered the moment like glass. Veer pulled back instantly. Kynat stepped away, her heart racing, her cheeks burning. “Enter,” Veer called, his voice cold and controlled. The door opened and a maid stood there. “Rani sa…” She lowered her head. “Aapko Vaishali ji bula rahi hain.” (Vaishali ji is calling you.) 

Kynat nodded, grateful for the interruption. She avoided Veer's gaze and followed the maid out. Veer sat alone in the room, his eyes closed, his jaw tight. What is she doing to me? he thought. 

— — —

In the afternoon, Veer sat in his office study, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He sips slowly, the man everyone feared looked calm. But inside, his thoughts were chaos. Then, the door opened, Aadrash stepped inside, his tablet in hand. “Hukum,” he said. “Jaisa aapne kaha tha... Vicky Alwar ki jaankari mil gayi hai. Aisi mili hai ki aap khush ho jayenge.” (Hukum. As you asked... I've gotten information about Vicky. The kind that will make you happy.) 

Veer's eyes flickered. “Tell me.” Aadrash swiped his tablet. “Vicky is exactly what we thought. A man of pleasure. Party, clubs, women—that's his world. The interesting thing is he's afraid of three things: his mother, snakes, and losing his money. In that order. But the main thing, Vicky Alwar is connected, Hukum. To the Sethia gang.”  The name hung in the air like poison. Veer's head turned slowly. “Sethia?”

Aadrash nodded. “Yes, Hukum. The same people whose names Vikram mentioned in yesterday’s meeting. Vicky works for them. Small operation—delivery, collection. But he’s ambitious. He wants more.” Veer's eyes became cold. “Find out. What Sethia actually does.” Aadrash opened a file and placed it in front of veer. “Information is limited. But enough. They have connections. Drugs, Extortion, Illegal operations and maybe many more.”

Veer was silent for a long moment. Then he laughed—a cold, dangerous sound. “This just got interesting.” Aadrash asked. “What do you want to do?”

“Watch him,” Veer said. “Calls, meetings, locations. I want to know everything about Vicky Alwar.” Aadrash nodded. “And after that?” Veer's eyes turned to ice. “Then we give him his nightmares.”  Aadrash bowed. “It will be done.” 

— — —

Back at the palace, Kynat was exploring the palace. And Kynat was slowly realizing that this palace was exactly that. A beautiful mystery. She entered another corridor filled with portraits. Men wearing royal clothes and women wearing traditional jewellery. Generations of Ranawats staring down at her. “Lagta hai poora parivaar yahan se humein judge kar raha hai.” (It feels like the entire family is judging me from here.) She smiled slightly then continued walking.

She reached another side of the palace. She had spent almost an hour walking through the corridors. At first, she thought she was simply exploring. But now she was lost. “Yeh palace hai ya koi maze?” (Is this a palace or a maze?) She looked around. “Main yahan kaise aa gayi?” (How did I come here?) She slowly walked ahead. The corridor went slightly downward almost like it was leading underground. At the end of the corridor, she found a door. It was made of dark, heavy wood, banded with iron. There was no handle but just a keyhole. Kynat stepped closer. She moved towards the door and  reached out to touch it but suddenly a hand grabbed her wrist. Kynat screamed. 

“Ahh!”

“Shhh, beta.” Vaishali's voice, soft and urgent. “It's just me. It's just me.” Kynat spun around, her heart hammering. Vaishali stood behind her, her face pale in the torchlight. “Aap? Aap yahan?” Kynat stammered. (You? You're here?)

“I was looking for you,” Vaishali said. “You've been gone for an hour. I got worried.”  Kynat looked back at the door. “I was just looking around the palace… but I got lost. And then I ended up here. What is this place? What's behind that door?” Vaishali's expression shuttered. “Nothing. Just old storage. The palace is very old, beta. Come. I'll take you to a special place.” Kynat stares at her, confused. “Which place?” Vaishali's eyes softened. “The place where you will find peace.” Kyant let Vaishali lead her away but her eyes lingered on the iron-banded door. Vaishali gently guided Kynat into the car. Kynat slid into the seat beside Vaishali. The doors shut with a soft thud, and the car rolled forward, leaving the towering palace gates behind.  

An hour later, their car stopped in front of the huge shiv temple. The temple bells echoed gently and Kynat’s eyes lit up. Both Vaishali and kynat slowly get out of the car and head inside the temple. They removed their shoes and entered. For a few minutes, they sat in silence, their eyes closed, their hands folded in prayer. The temple was peaceful. Calm. A refuge from the chaos of the palace. When they finished, Vaishali turned to Kynat with a soft smile. “You believe in Mahadev?” Kynat looked at the idol then nodded. “Yes. My mother used to.” A soft sadness entered her voice. Vaishali noticed. “Woh bohot achhi thi. Woh meri duniya thi.” (She was very kind. She was my world.) 

A small silence followed. Then Vaishali held her hand. “Ab tum akeli nahi ho.” (Now you are not alone.) Kynat looked at her. Vaishali smiled. “Main tumhari maa ki jagah nahi le sakti. Lekin ek maa ki tarah tumhara saath zaroor de sakti hoon.” (I cannot take your mother's place. But I can stand beside you like a mother.) For a moment, Kynat forgot how to react. Because nobody had offered her that. Her eyes became wet but she smiled. “Thank you…” Vaishali squeezed her hand. “Ab chalo. Thoda daan bhi karna hai.” (Come. We also have to donate.)

They bowed together, offering prayers. Afterwards, they placed donations—grains, cloth, and coins—into the temple’s collection. The evening passed peacefully. Kynat and Vaishali spent time at the temple. They fed people and distributed food. For a while, the palace’s chaos felt far away. 

By the time they left, the sky had turned deep blue, stars scattered across it. The car rolled down a deserted road, the silence broken only by the hum of the engine. Kynat looked out the window, watching the golden desert landscape blur past. Suddenly, the car jolted and stopped. “What happened?” Vaishali asked, gripping the seat. The driver got out, checked the hood, and came back with a worried expression. “Maharani, the car has a serious problem.” Vaishali frowned. “How much time?” The driver looked uncomfortable.”Alot.” Kynat looked outside. “What do we do now?” 

Kynat looked around. The road was empty and the night was getting darker. Then she saw headlights in the distance. A car was approaching—a sleek black SUV. It slowed, then stopped beside them. The window rolled down, revealing a familiar face. Kian. Veer's cousin. The youngest of Raghav and Nisha's twins, with sharp features and a mischievous smile. “Vaishali Maa? Kynat bhabhi?” he said, looking surprised. “Aap log yahan?” (Vaishali auntie? Kynat sister-in-law? You both here?)

Kynat looked surprised. “Kian?” He stepped out. “Are you both okay?” Vaishali nods. “Haan Beta. lekin Tum kahan se aa rahe ho?” (Yes, Beta. But where are you coming from?) Kian looked at the car. “Friend ke ghar se. Lekin aap dono?” (I went to a friend's house. But you both..?) “Car kharab ho gayi,”  Vaishali explained. Kian immediately smiled. “Then the problem solved. I'll take you both home.” Vaishali hesitated. “Kian beta–” He shook his head. “Oh! Come on. Vaishali ma, I can't let you both stand here.” Kynat smiled slightly. “Thank you.” Kian looked at her. And for some reason that simple smile made him happier than it should have. “Anything for you, Bhabhi.” He said. Kynat laughed softly.

They climbed into Kian's car. The ride back to the palace was filled with easy conversation, Kian cracking jokes, Vaishali laughing, Kynat smiling politely. But when kynat is not looking, Kian's attention kept drifting to Kynat. His eyes kept finding her in the rearview mirror. His comments were directed at her more often than they should be. “Bhabhi, aap ko palace kaise lag raha hai?” he asked. (Sister-in-law, how are you finding the palace?)

“Bohot sunder, Lekin bahut bada hai.” she said politely.(Very beautiful. But it's very big.)  “Main aapko ghoomane le chal sakta hoon,” he offered. (I can take you to explore.) Kynat felt a prickle of unease. “Shukriya. Magar zaroorat nahi hai. Phir kabhi chalenge.” (Thank you. But it's not necessary. We’ll go some other time.) Vaishali glanced at Kian, her eyes narrowing slightly. But she said nothing.

Soon they arrived at the palace. Vaishali got out first, greeting one of the servants who had come to take her shawl. Kynat followed, but as she stepped out of the car, her dupatta caught on the door handle. “Oh no—” she started.

“Rukiye, main karta hoon,” (Wait, let me do it.) Kian said, leaning in to help.He moved closer—too close. His fingers brushed her waist as he untangled the fabric. His face was inches from hers. His eyes were dark, intense. “Careful,” he murmured. “Wouldn't want you to lose this. It looks beautiful on you.” Kynat smiled and stepped back. “Thank you.” She didn't think much of it. Kian was sweet, kind, and helpful. He was just being nice

But someone else was watching. Veer. He had arrived at the palace gates just in time to see Kian's car pull in. To see Kian open the door for Kynat. To see Kian's hand linger on her waist. To see Kynat smile at him—that bright, genuine smile she had never given Veer. Something cold and dark twisted in his chest.  He didn't feel anything. Especially not for a woman who was forced to marry him. But watching Kian touch her, watching her laugh at his jokes, made Veer want to burn something. 

Veer wheeled toward her, his eyes cold. “Kynat. Inside. Now.” Before she could protest, his hand shot out, gripping hers firmly. With a sharp tug, he pulled her closer, erasing the space between them. Kynat’s breath caught, her body stiffening at the sudden closeness. His grip was unyielding, his presence overwhelming and unable to step back. “I said.” Veer's voice dropped to that dangerous register. “Inside. Now.” Confused, shaken, and unable to resist, Kynat finally moved, stepping inside and disappearing in the palace. 

Kian leaned against his car, lips curling into a half‑smile. “I was just helping her, Bhai. No need to get so–”  Veer’s gaze cut to him, sharp as a blade. “Careful, Kian. Don’t mistake my silence for tolerance.”  The warning hung heavy in the air. Veer wheeled himself forward, disappearing inside after Kynat, leaving Kian outside, smiling.

The bedroom door slammed shut. Veer wheeled to the center of the room. “What were you doing with him?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. Kynat snapped.  “He was just helping me because my dupatta got stuck. And you? Why are you so angry?” Veer wheeled closer to her. “He was fixing your dupatta? That close? It didn't look that way.”

“How did it look?” Kynat stepped closer, her chin raised. “Because from where I was standing, it looked like someone was being kind to me. Something you wouldn't know anything about.” 

“Kind?” Veer laughed bitterly. “You don't know Kian. He's not kind.” Kynat’s brows furrowed. “How do you know?” His eyes hardened. “Don’t ask questions—just do what I said.” She stepped closer, refusing to back down. “That’s not an answer.” He grabbed her wrist, pulling her into his space. The sudden closeness stole her breath. “You want an answer?” His voice was low, rough. “Fine. Then stay away from Kian. Stay away from Vikram. Stay away from every man in this palace except me.” Kynat froze, her pulse racing. They stood inches apart, locked in a storm of unspoken emotions, breathing hard, neither willing to yield.

Then, Veer’s grip loosened. He turned away, his tone cold, clipped. “Get ready for dinner. And stay away from Kian.” The command lingered in the air, heavy and final, leaving Kynat shaken in the silence of the room. 

Kynat stood frozen for a moment, Veer’s cold command echoing in her ears.Then she shook her head, trying to push away the heaviness of his words, but the sting lingered. Without another word, she turned and slipped out of the room and headed downstairs. She paused at the doorway of the dining room, smoothing her saree as if to steady herself. Kynat exhaled softly, forcing a small composure onto her face, and stepped into the dining room. 

The dining room was full. Dadasa, Dadisa, Yashwant, Nandini, Vikram, Meera, Priya, Raghav, Nisha, Kian, and Kyra—all present. All watching. Kynat slid into her seat beside Veer. She kept her eyes down. For a few minutes, everything was silent. Then Dadasa spoke. “Veer. Have you given any more thought to the Sethia contract?” Veer's hand tightened on his fork. “I told you, until I get complete information, this topic will not be discussed.” 

“What..?” Yashwant interjected. “You're the CEO, but you're not the owner. The family owns this company. And the family wants to explore the Sethia opportunity.” The room fell into tense silence before Dadsa leaned forward, his voice firm. “Yashwant is right. This isn’t just your decision, Veer. The Ranawat legacy belongs to all of us.” Vikram smirked, adding fuel. “Exactly. You think sitting in that chair makes you untouchable? The Sethias are offering us something big. Why should we ignore it?” 

Veer’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching the armrests.The argument spiraled, frustration mounting until Veer’s patience snapped. His chair wheeled back sharply, his voice finally broke through, low but trembling with anger. “I’ve heard enough.” His voice was cold, clipped. “Do whatever you want with your Sethia deal. I won’t be part of it.” Without waiting for a reply, Veer turned and stormed out of the boardroom, his anger trailing behind him like a storm. He disappeared into the corridor, heading straight for his room, leaving the family in stunned silence.  Kynat watched him go, her eyes softened, a faint ache rising. The sting of the family’s words lingered in her chest. 

After dinner, Kynat walked slowly to the bedroom. The room was dimly lit. The curtains were drawn. And Veer was sitting by the window, staring out at the dark night. Kynat entered quietly, her steps hesitant. She glanced at him, his shoulders stiff, his gaze fixed on nothing—and chose not to speak. Without a word, she slipped into the bathroom. 

She took a long shower, letting the hot water wash away the tension of the evening. When she stepped out, she wrapped herself into a deep blue silk nightgown. Veer was still at the window. She sat on the edge of the bed, her heart pounding. The room was silent. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. “Veer,” she said softly. He didn't turn around just hummed. “Hmm..” 

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly. Veer's head turned, his eyes moved over her, the silk clinging to her curves, her damp hair falling past her shoulders. “Why?” Kynat swallowed, her heart pounding. “Because you seem upset.” Veer’s lips curved into something between a smirk and a grimace. “Upset? That’s too small a word.” Before she could respond, he turned, his voice clipped, final. “Go to sleep.” 

The words cut through the air, leaving no space for argument. He wheeled away and moved toward the attached room. Without another glance, he disappeared inside, the door closing with a muted thud. Kynat sat frozen on the edge of the bed, watching him go. She shook her head, forcing herself to breathe and walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a small box she had hidden at the bottom. She opened it. Inside was her mother's locket. “Maa, What should I do? I can’t understand. This house, these people, this man  everything feels so different.” She closed the locket and pressed it to her heart. “I wish you were here. I wish you could tell me what to do. Please help me. Please.” She kissed the locket and placed the locket back inside the box. She climbed into bed, pulling the duvet up to her chin. And within minutes, she was asleep.

— — —

Somewhere in Dubai, at the Port of Rashid, the night was alive with activity. The port was a labyrinth of shipping containers, cranes, and shadowy figures. The air smelled of salt, diesel, and danger.

The night was dark, the water black and shimmering with reflected moonlight. The air smelled of salt and oil and something else—something that made the workers nervous. At the edge of the dock stood Vicky Alwar. He wore a black suit, his hair slicked back, a smirk on his face. He was waiting for the shipment.

The ship appeared on the horizon—a massive cargo vessel, its lights dim, its hull low in the water. Five hundred crore worth of illegal goods. Drugs. Weapons. Vicky's smirk widened. “Mera maal,” he whispered. “Mera maal aa raha hai.” (My consignment. My consignment is coming.)

The ship approached the dock. Workers scrambled to prepare the ropes, the cranes, and the hidden containers. Vicky watched, his eyes gleaming.

Then, an explosion. The ship's hull blew apart in a ball of fire and metal. The shockwave sent workers flying. The sound was deafening, a roar that shook the very ground. The sky turned orange. The water churned. Screams echoed across the port. Vicky was thrown back, his ears ringing, his vision blurred.  He struggled to his feet, staring at the burning wreckage. “No…” he whispered. “No. No. No…”

The ship was gone. The cargo was gone. Five hundred crore, up in flames. He pulled out his phone, his hands shaking, and dialed a number. “The ship—it's gone! Everything—” He listened to the other end and then the line went dead. Vicky stared at the burning ship, his blood running cold.