The soft glow of diyas flickered around Badi, casting warm shadows on the walls as the Ganesh Pooja came to an end. The scent of sandalwood and fresh flowers lingered in the air while elders exchanged pleasantries, and the younger members helped wrap up the ritual offerings.

Ragini adjusted the pleats of her saree, her forehead still adorned with the red tika from the pooja, when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

Sujata Maheshwari walked in with Sanskar and Vandana Rajvansh, their presence drawing immediate attention. The Rajvansh name still held weight, and despite past history, their visit carried significance.
“Arey Sujata ji, aayiye!” Dadi greeted warmly, stepping forward with a polite smile.

Sujata, ever dramatic, grinned happily. “Kaki sa inse miliye, yeh hai vandana jiji humari nanand baisa” She looked at Ragini, who smiled shyly. “Ragini beta,” Sujata continued, taking her hand, “yeh hai app ki bua saas.”

Ragini folded her hands and bent down to take the blessing “Pranam, Bua ji.”

Vandana smiled, her gaze soft as she took in Ragini’s demure nature. Unlike the loud energy of the Maheshwari household, there was a quiet grace about this girl. She liked that.

“Bas bas, beta,” she said warmly, making her stand and hugging her.

Then she reached for a small velvet box that she had carried with her. “Yeh tumhare liye, Main tumse pehli baar mil rahi hoon, toh yeh chhoti si bhent.”

Ragini blinked in surprise as Vandana took out a pair of intricately designed gold kadas and gently slid them onto her wrists.

“Par… Main—”

“Chup,” Vandana chided gently. “Shagun ko mana nahi karte.”

Ragini swallowed, touched by the gesture. “Thank you bua ji.”

—--------

At Night
 
Karanveer Rajvansh stepped out of his car, his sharp eyes immediately scanning the courtyard of Maheswari Mansion.
He saw the sight of his mother trying—actually trying—to fit in with a family that had never fully accepted her…

His hands clenched into fists.

He had seen this before. As a child, as a teenager. His mother always trying.

And the Maheshwaris? They either ignored her, looked down upon her, or patronized her. First because they were not as wealthy. Later, because they simply could.

His jaw tightened as he watched DP standing at a distance, conversing with some elders, barely acknowledging his sister’s presence.
Nothing had changed.

And yet, his mother still looked hopeful.

Karanveer exhaled slowly, forcing down his anger. Now was not the time. Not here. Not yet.
He stepped inside, his presence immediately commanding attention. His sharp suit, his confident stride, and the unmistakable aura of a man who had learned to wield power.

Vandana turned, her eyes lighting up. “Karanveer, tu aa gaye?”

Karanveer glanced at her, his expression softening for just a fraction of a second before he schooled his features.

“Of course,” he said smoothly. “How could I miss such an important occasion?”

—-----------------------
The Maheshwari mansion buzzed with preparations for the Haldi function. Bright yellow and orange marigold garlands hung from the pillars, the air filled with the fragrance of turmeric, sandalwood, and fresh flowers.

As Diya Rajvansh excitedly wandered around, taking in the grandeur of the arrangements, Annapurna approached her with a warm smile.

“Diya beta, would you mind taking the Haldi to Badi? You wanted to meet Ragini, right?”
Before Diya could respond, AP turned to Karanveer, who was standing nearby, arms crossed, clearly disinterested.

“Karanveer, can you go along and deliver the Haldi?”

The immediate frown that crept onto his face was predictable.

Before he could refuse, Diya grinned mischievously. “Yes, Bhai, let's go!”

Karanveer shot her a glare. “Diya—”

But then he felt his mother’s gaze on him—Vandana’s soft yet firm warning look, the kind that said Dare you say no.
He exhaled sharply.
“Fine,” he muttered.

Diya cheered. “Sure, Mami-sa!”

Uttara tagged along as well, excited to tease Ragini and Swara before the function began.

The moment Uttara, Diya, and Karanveer stepped into Badi, they were met with the sight of flower decorations being hurriedly set up. The air was thick with the scent of rose petals, turmeric, and sweets being prepared.

Dadi welcomed them with a broad smile. She ushered them inside. As Uttara introduced them,

Dadi beamed at Diya. “Arey beta, tum toh bilkul Vandana jaisi dikhti ho! Ekdum sundar.”
Diya smiled. “I’ve heard that before.”

Meanwhile, Karanveer stood awkwardly near the entrance, arms crossed, unwilling to participate.

But Dadi wasn’t done. “Pehli baar aaye ho, bina meetha khaye jaane nahi denge! Chalo, kuch toh muh meetha karo.”

“Main—” Karanveer started to refuse.

But before he knew it, a swarm of overenthusiastic relatives appeared, insisting that they taste Kolkata’s famous Rasgulla.

“Arre beta, yeh toh kolkata ki specialty hai!” “Bas ek le lo, shagun hai!”

Diya snickered as she saw her brother’s patience wearing dangerously thin. He had barely bitten into the first Rasgulla when a carelessly handled plate tipped over—and an entire spoonful of sugary syrup landed straight on his crisp white kurta.

The sharp clench of his jaw was warning enough.

He looked down at the sticky stain, then back up at the guilty-looking relative, his expression deadpan.

“Fantastic.”

Diya rushed in before he could explode. “Dadi, washroom kaha hai?” she asked quickly, trying to divert attention.

Dadi replied, “Pehle floor pe guest room mein hai.”

Karanveer didn’t wait. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode upstairs, He had been here less than an hour, and he already wanted to leave.

Behind him, Uttara and Diya followed, their chatter filling the hallway.

“You know, Diya, Ragini Bhabhi is sweet, but Swara Di is way cooler!” Uttara grinned, nudging Diya playfully.

Diya chuckled. “Oh? What makes you say that?”

“Swara Di is bindaas! She’s fun, she speaks her mind, and she’s always standing up for what’s right.” Uttara smirked. “Ragini Bhabhi is… well, nice, but she’s more traditional. Poora sanskari bahu vibes.”

Karanveer, walking ahead of them, frowned slightly but chose to ignore the conversation. He had little interest in the dynamics of this family drama.

“I’m sure Ragini Bhabhi is lovely too,” Diya added, keeping things balanced.

Uttara huffed. “Haan, par Swara Di has all the fun! Ragini Bhabhi is the type who would rather stay home and do aartis than go on a road trip.”

Karanveer rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “What a waste of conversation.”

Reaching his guest room, he pushed the door open and stepped inside without another word.

Uttara and Diya, meanwhile, continued down the hallway toward Ragini’s room.

The air inside was heavy with unsaid emotions.

Swara sat cross-legged on the bed, a forced smile on her face as she adjusted Ragini’s dupatta. The sight of her sister dressed as a bride—knowing the truth Laksh refused to confess—made Swara’s stomach churn.

Ragini, oblivious to Swara’s turmoil, looked radiant in her soft peach-colored attire, gold jewelry glittering against her skin.

A knock at the door broke the silence.

Uttara peeked inside, grinning. “Swara Di, Ragini Bhabhi! Look who’s here!”

Diya stepped in, her eyes shining with excitement. “Hi! I’m Diya Rajvansh. Your Vandana Bua’s daughter.”

Ragini’s face lit up instantly.
Diya smiled and stepped forward. “Finally, we meet! Humari Laksh Bhai ki dulhan.”

Swara stiffened at the words, forcing another smile. Ragini, however, blushed at the teasing comment.

Before Uttara could add another playful remark, Dadi’s voice rang out from downstairs.

“Ragini beta! Jaldi neeche aao, kuch mehmaan tumse milna chahte hain!”

With a quick adjustment of her dupatta, Ragini excused herself and stepped out into the open corridor overlooking the courtyard.

Karanveer had finally had enough.

This entire trip had been a waste of his time—between the overly sweetened Rasgullas, the forced conversations, and watching his mother try to fit into a family that had always belittled her, his patience was running dangerously thin.

His thoughts clouded his mind as he walked toward the exit, his jaw tight, his shoulders tense.
And then—

CRACK!

Before he could react, a loud creaking sound filled the air, followed by a sudden rush of fabric as the tent canopy from the courtyard came crashing down.

The soft but heavy yellow-and-white fabric collapsed around them, trapping them inside a dimly lit, suffocating cocoon.

For a second, everything was still.

Ragini, She had stepped into the hallway at the same moment, completely unaware of his presence—until the tent collapsed around them, enclosing them.

Ragini shifted, trying to untangle herself from the folds of cloth trapping her. But as she moved, her bracelet got caught in the fabric, and she stumbled again—this time, landing against Karanveer’s chest.

A sharp breath escaped her lips as she braced herself against him.

Karanveer stiffened, his hands instinctively catching her arms to steady her

“Seriously?”

Ragini’s heart pounded against her ribs, her hands instinctively pressing against his chest for balance.

Karanveer exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching as he steadied her.

His grip was firm, but his expression? Irritated.

He glanced down at her, his dark eyes flashing with cold amusement.

“Are you always this clumsy,” he muttered, his voice low and unimpressed, “or is this a special talent you save for dramatic moments?”

The unexpected closeness sent her pulse skittering, but before she could react, he let go abruptly, taking a step back.

She pulled away, straightening her outfit. “Aur aap hamesha itni badtameez baatein karte hain, ya yeh bhi ek special talent hai?” she shot back, folding her arms.

Karanveer smirked, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Special talent. Tumse milne ke baad aur better ho raha hai.”

She stumbled slightly, her hands flailing before she caught herself.

Karanveer watched—arms crossed, completely unfazed. Ragini glared at him.

“If your brain worked as fast as your tongue it would have been of some help”

“Sorry,” he said, tone dripping sarcasm, “mujhe bachpan se hi Masiha banne ka shauk nahi hai.”

Ragini’s eyes narrowed.

“Na tameez hai, na insaniyat,” she muttered under her breath, yanking the fabric away from her feet with unnecessary force.

Before the argument could escalate, the fabric was pulled away, allowing light to flood back in.

“Bhai!”

Diya’s voice rang in excitement as she ran over. “Bhai, meet our Ragini Bhabhi!”

Karanveer blinked, his expression shifting from mild irritation to mild surprise.

This was Laksh’s fiancée?

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then, with an unreadable nod, he simply said, “Nice to meet you.”

Ragini frowned, her earlier irritation not quite fading. “Ji.”

Before any more words could be exchanged, Dadi approached. “Beta, haldi rasam hone wali hai. Tum log bhi ruk jao.”

Diya clapped her hands together. “Yes! Bhai, stay! It’ll be fun.”

Karanveer, however, had no intention of staying.

“No, thanks.” His reply was immediate, sharp. “I have other things to do.”

His mother’s hopeful face flashed in his mind for a brief second, but he ignored it.

With a curt nod, he turned and walked away.

The drive back was quiet. And yet, something felt odd.

Karanveer was a man who trusted his instincts. And right now?

Something about this marriage didn’t sit right.