Veer observed Pari with an admiring gaze, accepting her directive with a heart full of anticipation. She was the only person who could command him in such a way, and he was more than willing to comply.
"I will announce our marriage in one week," he said, his voice steady yet brimming with excitement.
As Pari nodded and turned to leave, Veer couldn't help but watch her retreating figure, a smile curving his lips. The thought of sharing his life with her filled him with a warmth that spread through his chest.
The news of their engagement circulated rapidly, electrifying the kingdom.
In another corner of kingdom, Niya and Reyan remained blissfully unaware of the swirling emotions around them. With Reyan engrossed in official duties, Niya found joy in managing their daily life, all while cherishing the sense of normalcy. But the peace was about to be shattered.
When Reeta caught wind of the impending nuptials, an ember of fury sparked within her. "How can that fool marry the prince my daughter couldn't reach? How is this possible?!" Her voice dripped with indignation, a furious tempest that reflected her unwillingness to accept the reality. Although her daughter had once wed a prince, Veer was a completely different creature—powerful, ambitious, and undeniably magnetic.
As she cast a glance at her current husband, a bitter thought crossed her mind. So what if that fool can marry him? I've stolen her mother's husband away from her. Let her stew in sorrow; it will be my victory. Reeta's anger twisted into a grim satisfaction, masking her own insecurities with a facade of confidence.
Meanwhile, Mayank sat lost in a fog of introspection. I should feel happy, shouldn't I? The divorce had transformed him, and he felt a gnawing emptiness in the pit of his stomach.
Maira's absence echoed in his heart; she had always been attentive in ways Reeta could never be. The warmth of her presence lingered in his memory, leaving him craving the small joys she had brought into his life.
As Reyan and Niya returned to their mansion, a servant approached them with an envelope that bore weighty tidings. Niya's hands trembled slightly as she opened the invitation. As her eyes scanned the words, her heart plummeted. This can't be happening. Not her. Not him. The thought of Pari marrying someone else—a man she believed to be utterly unattainable—was a lightning strike to her chest. No, I refuse to believe it. How can this fool be deserving of a man of his caliber? Anger boiled within her, but time had run out: the wedding would be tomorrow.
Across the room, Reyan felt his own world teeter on the edge of disbelief. How could she do this? The betrayal ignited a fury he struggled to contain. She's supposed to love me, to be devoted to me! The cognitive dissonance clawed at him—he was the one who had chosen another, yet the sight of her moving on felt like a gut punch. Why does it hurt so much?
Both Reyan and Niya were wrapped in their own tumultuous thoughts.
As the day of the wedding drew closer, the air buzzed with excitement throughout the city. Everyone wanted to witness the marriage of two powerful lives.
There was an undercurrent of respect and admiration for Pari among the townsfolk. Her success in business illuminated her character, setting her apart as a worthy consort. Women prepared their finest attire, determined to present their best selves for the occasion, high expectations swirling around them.