KETHAKI

I gulped the glass of water, as I stood outside the entrance of the ballroom and passed the empty glass to a waitress, waiting for my cue to enter. Why did I have to make my entrance alone? The guests were here and they all knew what I looked like. 

I peeked and was able to get an idea of the huge crowd that had gathered to witness our roka. 

"Okay," I said. "Okay, Kethaki. It's okay." I tapped my foot against the ground and brushed my blue lehenga. The dupatta was draped around me, the pallu hanging behind me. The subtle pink embroidery swirled around the fabric like fire, consuming it whole.

"You are a trained kathak dancer. You are used to the attention. It's okay." I looked around and realised that I was alone. The waitress had left. The hallway was deserted. Everyone waited inside to watch me get bound to Aryan.

"You can do this. You will do this!" I gulped and took a deep breath, needing to calm my nerves. 

"Ms Thakur," Ekantika said as she made her way out of the ballroom, towards me. "We are ready!"

I nodded and cracked my knuckles, stretched my shoulders and neck and jumped a little.

"You are not entering a fighting ring, Ms Thakur," Ekantika said.

I sighed. "Trust me. Everything involving Aryan is a fight. Everything."

She nodded. "Yeah. I am aware of your... history."

I smiled. "Don't worry. It's the future too."

Her eyebrows raised and she nodded slowly. "Well, let's go."

I stepped forward, the flutter of my lehenga drowning under the sound of the music, and then took another step. I walked slowly, and deliberately, to the entrance. The music stopped, and the ballroom washed with darkness, as the lights were turned off. I walked and stood at the centre of the threshold to the ballroom. The ceiling lights lit one by one. They were so small, they looked like dots on the ceiling, and slowly, they all lit up, impersonating stars inside the room. 

The yellow-white spotlight shone overhead and glinted against my dusky skin, turning it golden. I looked up and the darkness shrouded the crowd. The song started playing. My heart fluttered in my chest, as I realised the tact for choosing this exact song.

Another spotlight turned on, right over Aryan who stood in a blue sherwani, and it gave me a target to walk to. He raised his hand again, just like he did the day our wedding date was decided. As Laal Ishq played in the background I walked over to my future husband. 

The song's softness was low against the murmur of the crowd. I couldn't see anyone. Not my brother, my cousins, my parents or my family. My attention was captured by the man who stood a few feet away from me and the darkness in the room helped in holding it.

He stood regal in the light, the hand that he held out not wavering. He stood patiently. Patiently waiting for me. Waiting for me to come closer to him. 

And I did. 

I walked to him, my steps slow and deliberate. It was easier than I thought. It was easy to fall for the charm that his eyes held and the act he put up for the crowd. I fell for it all. 

I walked to him, my body pulled to him, like a magnet. I forgot our history, how much I hated him and how much he hated me. 

He lied so beautifully with his eyes, and I had always been capable of catching it. And yet, when I walked to him, I couldn't see the lie. His eyes held nothing, but quiet patience and acceptance.

For what, I didn't know. 

The starry lights were dim and soft with the spotlight overpowering them all. It followed me, as I crossed the distance between me and my enemy. The pearls tinkled and the flowy fabric of the lehenga fluttered. And then, the sound of my bangles tinkling added to the mix, as I raised to hold his hand.

My hand touched his. My heart raced. I was breathing heavily. He tightened his grip on my hand and pulled me to him and with steady steps, I climbed the three stairs over to the stage, his hand and his grip acted like an anchor navigating me to him. 

His eyes trailed down, leaving a fire in its wake. 

I gulped.

"Look at you... absolutely breathtaking, my bride," he said, as he looked into my eyes. My heart jumped to my throat and my mouth ran dry.

'Did he just say that?'

There was a cheer from the room. The camera shutters sounded even over the song playing and flashes lit up the ballroom. People were eating it up. And the worst part was, Aryan wasn't even doing it for show. 

He meant it.

He meant what he had said. His eyes stared into my soul and my hand rested in his. 

And there was no way, I was letting it affect me. "Careful, or I might start to believe you actually mean it," I whispered, smirking, making sure nobody but he heard me.

He pulled me closer. Then, raising his other hand, he touched my temple with his fingertips, gliding them back behind my ear, tucking a piece of hair that had come undone from the bun. "Maybe you should. After all, you're the only one who could make me say it."

I looked away from him and turned to face the paparazzi. "I have no idea what has gotten over you, but if you think that you need to put up this act for the benefit of the paps, you don't need to. We have to be cordial, not in love," I said. I moved my hand from his palms to his elbow and gripped it, smiling at the paparazzi.

"I beg to differ." He placed his hand over mine on his elbow and patted. "The cameras want a show, after all, they are for our benefit. Besides, the headlines would be spectacular tomorrow."

I hated that my chest pinched at his words. Maybe, I read his eyes wrong. Maybe, I had lost the ability to see what he meant, even though his words differed. Maybe, I was losing my touch.

"Mr Rathore look here."

"Ms Thakur, hug him."

"Ms Thakur, give us a smile."

I smiled more.

Parth walked to us and handed Aryan a microphone. Maithili walked behind her, carrying two flutes of champagne glasses. 

"Jiju," she teased him handing one flute to Aryan. "Di," she said and gave one to me. 

Aryan tapped on the mic thrice, and the crowd quieted. The song came to an end and he began speaking. "Good evening, everyone. Thank you all for being here tonight. It means so much to us to have our family and friends gathered together and to feel the love and support that surrounds us as we step into this new chapter." He raised his glass.

There was a round of applause by the guests. Some raised their flutes of champagne. 

Aryan smiled. "Standing here, I realize how fortunate I am. Kethaki has brought something into my life that I didn't even know I needed. She's brilliant, resilient, and has a way of making the simplest moments feel significant. It's not easy to put into words, but I know I'm a better person just by being with her. And I look forward to spending my life growing and learning alongside her."

I took a big sip of the champagne and gulped it forcefully, trying to swallow the words that were threatening to come out of my mouth. To calm my nerves. To do something, while Aryan gave his speech.

'What a load of bullshit.' This man was putting on a show. A brilliant one, at that.

"Tonight, I'm standing beside her, and I'm reminded of the depth of the commitment we're making. Marriage, to me, is more than just a ceremony. It's a decision to choose someone every day, through everything life has to offer. It's a vow, a promise, one I intend to honour as long as there is breath in me." 

'More bullshit. Seriously, did he memorize this stuff, before coming here?'

"Kethaki is remarkable in ways that leave me humbled and grateful, and she deserves nothing less than everything I have to give." He told the crowd, but the words were for my benefit. "In her, I've found a partner for this life—a partner I intend to stand beside, steadfast, in all the moments that lie ahead, be they bright or challenging. This commitment we make is not just for now but for every tomorrow that follows. So thank you, each of you, for witnessing this moment with us. And to Kethaki..." He turned and looked me directly in the eyes.

I was consumed by him. 

His presence. His words. His intensity. 

The emotions swirled in his eyes. Hidden from all the world, privy only to me. He showed his emotions only to me. They were mine. And mine, alone. 

He took a step towards me, covering the light behind him. The shadow cast over me, and the world washed away. It was just him and me in his shadows. "I give you my word..." He neared. Him. His shadow and his darkest aura were all around me. "This promise is one I intend to keep forever."

The room roared at his words. Everybody fell for it. Even our family. Maybe, they too, thought that he was trying to move forward in the relationship. That he was willing to give us a chance.

I smiled at him. If he could pretend, so could I. Our families came together, and the lights were turned on. That's when I saw the magnitude of the crowd. If that was the number of people we invited for the roka, how many would we be catering at the wedding?

How many people would be there to witness the historic event?

There was a swarm around us. So many businessmen, families, clients and other guests came to congratulate us. And we played the happy couple. 

An hour passed and people mingled, leaving us on the stage. Our family came over to the stage, where the last of the guests congratulated us. 

"It's time," Papa said and he directed us down the stage and away from the ballroom. We bade our goodbyes to the paps and walked to the Shiv Mandir. Our official Roka was to happen there, and we had appointed just one official photographer to document the wedding.

Two chairs were placed in front of the Shivling with the things that were needed for the Roka. A copper kalash, coconuts, pan, Jewellery, clothes and everything else. 

"Come sit," Mom said and Aryan and I took our seats. "We should start."

I took the pallu of the dupatta of my lehenga and placed it on my head. Aryan brought out a handkerchief and placed it on his head. Dad picked up the sindoor and thus, began the ceremony. We were given gifts, clothes, Jewellery and blessings. The photographer clicked the pictures. So many jokes were made at our expense by Vikram, Shiva, Shivanya, Parth and at times, Shivansh. Maithili was uncharacteristically silent. Rudra didn't dare utter a word.

"Mama," Shiva said. "Here." She brought a small jewellery case out of her bag and handed it over to Dev Uncle.

"What is this?" He asked her and opened the box.

"Aryan Bhai asked me to buy payal for Kethaki Bhabhi," Shiva said. "I forgot to take it out."

My curiosity peaked and I tried to peek into the box. Aryan asked her to buy payal for me. What for?

"Oh, I didn't know you wanted to do this rasam, Aryan," Tara Aunty said as she walked over to Dev Uncle, admiring the jewellery.

I looked at him, but he was busy staring at Shiva. "I uhh--" he said. "I..."

I raised my brow at his hesitation. 

"Nonetheless, it's here, so take it," Dev Uncle said and passed the box over to Aryan, who took it.

He stood there, holding the payal in his hands, looking at it, analyzing it, lost in thought. 

"Bhabhi, you sit," Shivanya said. She grabbed my hand and made me sit on the chair. "Bhai, kneel in front of her and fasten the payal around her ankles. Come on!"

Aryan looked at me. He rounded the chair coming to stand right in front of me, and holding my gaze, knelt slowly before me. He kneeled on one knee and reached for my left leg. My toes curled.

He grabbed my ankle, holding it from over the fabric of my lehenga and gently placed my foot on his knee. He grabbed one of the payal. It was gold, the only metallic colour which complimented my skin other than rose gold. There were amethysts lined along its length and small ghungroos hanging under them. 

"What's it about?" Maa asked.

He slowly brought the payal near my foot and wrapped it around my ankle. I sucked in a breath at the coldness of the metal. His eyes, which were glued to my feet, jumped to my eyes.

"At the Roka, the groom gifts his wife a pair of payal, and he has to fasten them around her ankles," Tara Aunty said.

He felt around the length of the payal, and upon finding the hook, he brought the two ends closer and, in one move, snapped the lock in its place, locking it around my ankle. Then, he adjusted it around the ankle.

"It keeps the groom in check. He should know the dynamics of the relationship, beforehand," Dev Uncle joked. The sound of everyone laughing faded, as Aryan ran his thumb against the payal, admiring the most beautiful payal I had ever seen, resting against my foot. He then gently picked up my foot, this time without the fabric acting as a barrier, and carefully placed it on the ground. The ghungroos jingled, as I rolled my ankle, ignoring the heat of his hand that had seeped into my skin.

He was still looking at me. 

He reached for my other foot, and again, carefully, he placed it on his knee, as though in one touch, I would break apart. But that wouldn't be far away from reality. I felt like I would break apart if he continued to be this gentle, this careful and this intimate with me.

The payal jingled against each other, as he brought it to my foot, and fastened it with ease. He put my foot back on the ground and got up, his eyes boring into mine. 

There was a cheer from the family and I got up, constantly feeling the payal on my skin. 

"Let's go," Papa said and everyone began to walk out of the Mandir. I took a step forward to follow them, and I heard the ghungroos. Another step and the ghungroos sounded. The sound was powerful. It was strong. 

I tried to ignore it and made my way out.

I didn't want to go. I was tired. I had travelled all morning, got ready for a puja, changed again for the Roka, pretended to be a happy bride for a room full of guests and another ceremony and now we were going to attend to the guests. I wanted to leave. Stay away from the crowd, and most of all, my husband-to-be.

But I knew I had to be there for a while, be present and talk. I was done.

As we entered, I plastered a smile on my face and Aryan and I went to greet our guests.

"Where are the Rathi's?" I asked. Vikram's family had not been here all day.

"In the USA. They are covering for Vikram's absence," he said as we turned around the room. My eyes kept darting to the exit, which led to the garden outside. 

"I have noticed the absence of the Royals," I murmured. 

"Most of them will attend the wedding, as they are all out of town. Prince Arhaan Raizaada and Prince Ishaan Hoda will be here today, but not at the wedding," he replied.

I frowned. "That would create a scandal."

He shook his head. "Not really. They are just avoiding each other's presence. Anyway, I was strategic about extending the invite. Arhaan and Ishaan can't stand the others. The Pawars keep themselves entertained and ignore the rest. Prince Daksh Singh Tomar is a Lone Wolf and the Suryavanshi Clan always puts up a strong front. I didn't want to entertain their rivalry at my wed--" he stopped.

'At his wedding.' He wanted to say that. 

I didn't ask him any more questions. An hour passed and my battery had completely depleted. I couldn't take it anymore, and making an excuse, I left. I exited the ballroom, towards the garden and the warm air was far better than the chatter of the gathering. 

My payal sounded as I made my way down the outskirts of the garden. The scent of jasmine wafted in the air and I took a deep breath. Better. So much better.

"Running away again?" A voice called out and I turned. 

He looked so familiar, the man who stood in a suit. "Amir?" I recalled. He nodded, smiling at the fact that I remembered him. "How are you? How have you been?" I asked.

"I have been doing well. My family received the invite to your wedding, and I just had to see it for myself," he said. "You marrying was news in itself, but to Aryan? Completely unexpected."

I nodded. "Yeah. I can understand why," I said as I started walking towards him. That's when the fabric of my lehenga got entangled with the payal, and I tripped, but Amir caught me.

"Careful," he said, as he held me. I pushed away.

"Thank you," I said and leaned against a wall of the palace for support and bent to see what the issue was. But it was hard. My pallu kept slipping and there was a lot of fabric.

"Here, let me," he said and proceeded to bend down to help me, but I stepped back. 

"Thank you, but I don't want your help. I've got it," I said, still trying to find a way to untangle my payal from my lehenga.

"You're clearly having trouble, I can help," he said and this time, he did bend forward, grabbed my ankle, and pulled. I jumped back, kicking his hand away.

"I said don't, Amir," I said, firmly. "If I needed your help, I would've asked. Please leave. I will tend to myself," I said and waited for him to leave.

"Hey, I am sorry. I forgot how squeamish you get when people touch you," he said, raising his hands in surrender.

I frowned. How did he know? I opened my mouth to ask him to leave again when another voice spoke.

"I believe the lady asked you to leave." I could recognize the voice anywhere. Be it a whisper in a concert or a shout in space, where voices couldn't carry.

Amir turned to see Aryan standing behind him.

"And I believe the lady didn't ask for your help," he said slowly walking towards us. "Or is it just your habit to put your hands where they’re not wanted?"

Amir's hand clenched and his jaw tightened. "Mind your fucking language, Rathore."

"You should be out of both our sights in the next ten seconds," Aryan said, walking closer. "Or I won't hesitate to break your nose again."

'Break his nose again? Aryan goes around breaking people's noses?'

Amir gulped but forced a smile, turning to me. “I only wanted to congratulate you,” he said, his voice wavering slightly. He shifted his gaze back to Aryan. “But now, I’ll just pray for you. You’re going to need it.”

“Save your prayers for yourself,” I said, my tone laced with boredom. “You’ll need them more. Especially for your nose.”

“What?” Amir’s expression shifted from confusion to alarm as he glanced at me, then over his shoulder. Too late. Aryan’s fist was already in motion, and the sound of knuckles meeting bone echoed like a gunshot in the night.

The sickening crack was followed by Amir’s loud curse as he stumbled back, clutching his nose. Blood dripped between his fingers, staining the polished marble floor. Aryan didn’t move, his stance relaxed, his expression unreadable, but his eyes burned with a quiet, controlled fury.

“Next time,” Aryan said, his voice like ice, “listen when you’re told to leave.”

Amir looked up, his face a mix of rage and humiliation, but he didn’t say a word. He turned and stormed off, his footsteps heavy with defeat.

Once he was gone, I tried to adjust my lehenga and payal again, but this time, Aryan bent down on his knee, and again, raised my foot and rested it on his knee.

"I don't need your help," I said.

"You've brought me down to my knees twice in one day now," he said, as he examined the tangle, ignoring my statement.

"Good," I said, sharply. "Maybe you'll finally learn your place."

He glanced up at me, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable—amusement? Challenge? I couldn’t tell. His lips curved into the faintest smirk, the kind that made my pulse quicken for all the wrong reasons.

"Funny," he said, his fingers still working effortlessly to untangle the mess of fabric and metal. "I was about to say the same to you."

My breath hitched, his words hanging in the air between us like a gauntlet thrown. 

'What the hell did he mean!'

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, he finished untangling the payal with a quick, practised motion.

He let go of my foot, rising slowly, and for a moment, the world felt smaller with him standing so close. His height, his presence—it all seemed larger than life, and yet, it was the way his eyes held mine, steady and unflinching, that unsettled me the most.

“All done,” he said, his tone light, almost dismissive as if we hadn’t just traded veiled insults moments ago. “You’re free now.”

“From the payal,” I shot back, lifting my chin. “Not from you.”

"The time to free yourself from me has passed, Princess. The puja has concluded and so has the roka," he replied.

I clenched my fist. "I don't care. Until we take our pheras and until the Sindoor Daan, I am free to leave, peasant." I wasn't planning on it. At least, not yet. But it was still an option.

He took a deliberate step closer, his eyes dark and unyielding. “Don’t fool yourself, Princess,” he said, his voice low, each word dripping with quiet menace. “You may think the roka was just a formality, but to me, it was far more. This promise—these vows—they’re not just words to be tossed aside.”

He leaned in slightly, his gaze boring into mine, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “Understand this. I don’t take my vows lightly. And if you so much as think about running in the next four days, know this—I’ll find you. No matter where you go, no matter how far you think you can get. I will follow you to the ends of the earth.”

His tone turned colder, more chilling. “And when I do, Princess, I’ll drag you back. Kicking. Screaming. It won’t matter. But, I won't let you make a fool of me or my family, in front of the world.”

~*~

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