Ishita's Perspective

The grand hall was suddenly filled with the familiar, boisterous echoes of our inner circle. The heavy teak doors swung open, and the silence of our family meeting was shattered by the arrival of **Shivay and Tanya**, followed closely by **Veer and Aditi**.

My family’s faces lit up instantly. My father and Chachu stood to greet them, but my **eyes** were fixed on my wife. I expected her to fly into Aditi’s arms—they had been friends since childhood, after all.

But as Aditi ran forward, her arms outstretched for a classic "BFF hug," Ishita did something that shocked the entire room. She took a sharp step back, her saree** rustling with the sudden movement. Her brown eyes weren't twinkling; they were narrowed with a month’s worth of accumulated hurt.

"See... kisne bulaya hai?" (Look... who invited her?) Ishita said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Aditi stopped mid-stride, her face falling. "Mat kar na yaar... (Don't do this, friend...)"

"Yaar teri maa ki—" Ishita started, her temper flaring.

"Areeeee!" The chorus of shock from **Siya Maa, Papa, and the Chacha-Chachi** cut her off before she could finish the sentence. They all looked at their "sophisticated" Yuvrani as if she’d suddenly grown second head.

Ishita blinked, realization dawning on her that she was in a royal palace, not a back alley. She quickly adjusted her expression to one of wide-eyed innocence.

"Nahi, nahi! Main woh nahi bol rahi thi!" (No, no! I wasn't saying that!) she chirped, waving her hands. "Main toh bas... 'maa ki aankh' bol rahi thi. Chill, chill! Main sirf mann mein gaali deti hoon." (I was just saying... 'maa ki aankh'. Chill, chill! I only swear in my head.)

I couldn't help it. my voice a barely audible, dark mutter. "Jutti..." (Liar...)

She snapped her head toward me, giving me a glare so lethal it could have melted the Aravalli glaciers. "Bulvaao zayda..." (Keep talking...) she threatened.

I raised my hands in mock surrender, stepping back with a smirk. I knew better than to push a woman who had just spent a month mastering the art of village-style retribution.

Aditi looked truly sheepish now, stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance from Ishita’s frame  of fury. "Accha sorry yaar..."

Ishita’s expression softened, but the hurt was still there in her brown eyes. "Hamari shaadi ke baad ek baar bhi baat nahi ki," (You didn't talk to me even once after our wedding,) she whispered, the 5 years of their bond weighed down by the silence of the last few months.

AUTHOR POV

The grand hall of the Raj Mahal was a chaotic masterpiece of contrasting energies. On one side, the "Royal Brothers" were proving that some bonds are forged in something thicker than blood. **Veer and Shivay** didn't even wait for a formal greeting; they let out a synchronized laugh at the girls' dramatic standoff.

"Inka toh roz ka hai!" (This is their daily drama!) Veer shouted, and before Rudra could even maintain his "Cold-Hearted Prince" persona, the three of them collided in a massive, bone-crushing hug.

Rudra’s muscular frame was nearly swallowed by his two best friends. They were laughing, slapping each other's backs, and completely ignoring the atmospheric pressure dropping in the room.

A few feet away, **Ishita and Aditi** stood frozen, their jaws literally dropping. They watched the three men—the Top 5 businessman, the mafia-linked power player, and their stoic partners—acting like excited schoolboys.

The girls exchanged a single, lethal look. It was the kind of "deadly glare" that usually preceded a palace-wide lockdown.

"Yeah... sure," Aditi muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Unbelievable," Ishita added, her **heavy gold jhumkas** shaking with the force of her indignation.

Ishita snapped her attention back to Aditi, remembering that she was technically still on strike. She tossed her long curly hair over her shoulder and turned her back with the elegance only a Queen could manage.

"Tu mujhse baat na kar," (Don't you talk to me,) Ishita snapped, her voice as sharp as the diamonds in her necklace.

Aditi groaned, throwing her hands up in frustration. She looked past Ishita at the mountain of a man currently disentangling himself from the bro-hug.

"Jiju! Dekho na ise... zayada hi bhav kha rahi hai!" (Jiju! Look at her... she's acting way too pricey!) Aditi complained, pointing at Ishita’s retreating back.

Rudra smoothed out his black shirt, his **ocean-blue eyes** instantly softening the moment they landed on his pouting wife. He walked over, his large hand finding the small of her back

"She has every right, Aditi," Rudra said, his voice a low, protective rumble that made Ishita smirk triumphantly. "You ignored the Yuvrani for months. Now, you’ll have to earn your way back into her good graces."

"See!" Ishita chimed in, sticking her tongue out at Aditi. "Mere pati hamesha mere saath hain." (My husband is always with me.)

"Bas kar Ishu, maan jaa na!" (Enough now Ishu, agree already!) Siya Maa said, her voice filled with that gentle authority that usually worked on her daughter-in-law. Chachi nodded beside her, clearly wanting the " War" to end before lunch was served.

Aditi stepped closer, a mischievous yet emotional glint in her eyes. She knew exactly which button to press to melt the "Model Queen's" heart.

"Accha sun... ek surprise. Pakka tu gussa nahi reh payegi," (Okay listen... one surprise. I bet you won't be able to stay angry,) Aditi promised, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"Kya?" (What?) Ishita asked, her 5'3" slim frame still stiff, her arms crossed over her ** saree**.

"Aditi... tu **Maasi** banne wali hai!" (Aditi... you're going to be a Maasi!)

The world seemed to stop. Ishita went completely rigid, her brown eyes widening until they were like saucers. She stood there, frozen in her rose-gold heels, her **heavy gold jhumkas** perfectly still.

"Kya hua? Tu thik hai?" (What happened? Are you okay?) Aditi asked, starting to shake Ishita’s shoulders, worried she had broken her best friend with the news.

Then, it happened.

**"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"**

Ishita let out a scream so high-pitched and loud that it echoed off the palace’s vaulted ceilings. Across the room, **Rudra, Veer, and Shivay** practically jumped out of their skins. Everyone—from Papa to the palace guards—immediately clapped their hands over their ears.

"Bhabhi bas! Kaan phat gaye!" (Bhabhi enough! My ears are bursting!) Jay shouted, squinting in pain as he tried to protect his eardrums.

Ishita didn't care about royal decorum or everyone watching from the sidelines. She started jumping up and down in her heavy saree, her long curly hair flying wildly.

"Sachi? Sachi? Sachi?" (Really? Really? Really?) she squealed, her face lit up with a joy that could power the entire Raj Mahal. "Oooooo mmmmmm ggggggggg!"

She lunged forward, nearly tackling Aditi into a bone-crushing hug. The anger about the months of silence vanished in a heartbeat.

Rudra stood behind them, his **ocean-blue eyes** crinkling with a rare, genuine smile as he watched his wife’s transformation from a "Vengeful Queen" to a "Crazy Best Friend" in ten seconds flat.

The hall was a riot of celebration, the heavy marble pillars practically vibrating with the collective joy of the Rathor inner circle. Rudra, usually the "Cold-Hearted Prince," had a genuine, rare glint of warmth in his **ocean-blue eyes**.

He stepped toward Veer, gripping his shoulder with a strength that spoke of their brotherhood. "Saale... congratulations!" he rumbled, pulling his best friend into a fierce, bone-crushing hug.

While the men celebrated, Tanya looked at the chaos of happy tears and hugs with a small, playful pout. "Meri baari kab aayegi?" (When will my turn come?) she asked, looking at the two glowing expectant mothers, Reet and Aditi.

Siya Maa didn't miss a beat, adjusted her dupatta with a smirk. "Shaadi toh kar le pehle!" (Get married first!)

Shivay, always the one to stir the pot, leaned against a pillar with a mischievous grin. "Bacche ke liye shaadi ka kya lena dena? Woh toh bina—" (What does marriage have to do with having a baby? That can happen without—)

He didn't even get to finish the sentence. **WHACK.** A synchronized slap landed on his arm—one from Tanya and a swifter, more traditional one from Urmila Chachi. The hall erupted in fresh laughter as Shivay rubbed his arm, looking sheepish under the collective glare of the Rathor matriarchs.

Bebe, sitting in her regal chair, watched the scene with a proud smile, but then her gaze turned sharp and loving as it landed on Ishita.

"Reet bhi... aur ab yeh bhi," (Reet too... and now her as well,) Bebe murmured, her voice carrying across the room. She reached out and caught Ishita’s hand, pulling the Queen closer to her.

"Ishu... tu kab mujhe mere jigar ka tukda degi?" (Ishu... when will you give me the piece of my heart?)

The room went "pin-drop" silent. Every eye turned toward Ishita and Rudra. I saw Ishita’s brown skin flush a deep crimson, her **jhumkas** trembling as she looked down at her rose-gold heels.

Rudra stepped up behind her instantly. I saw his large hand find the small of her back

"Bebe... abhi toh gaon se aaye hain," (Bebe... we just got back from the village,) Rudra said, his voice dropping into that low, protective register that silenced any further teasing. "Patience. My Janna needs her rest before she starts thinking about anything else."

The tension of the baby news broke as **Drishti** appeared, her hands holding a silver platter piled high with golden *laddoos* and *kaju katli*. She moved through the hall, offering sweets to everyone, her face glowing with the shared joy of the family

(**Ram Singh Rathore**) took a sweet, his expression turning serious as he looked at Shivay. "Shiv... seriously, when are you going to marry?"

Shivay let out a frustrated huff, leaning back against the marble pillar. "Uncle, I am ready! Tell her father to accept me. He’s in a different attitude altogether... *pata nahi kya samajhta hai khud ko*." (Don't know what he thinks of himself.)

Tanya’s head snapped toward him, her eyes narrowing. "Oye! *papa hain woh mere... tameez se!*" (Oye! He’s my father... show some respect!)

"Toh bolo na! Tell him to accept his future son-in-law," Shivay countered, throwing his hands up. "*Itna kya bhav kha rahe hain?*" (Why is he acting so pricey?)

Ishita popped a piece of *kaju katli* into her mouth, her **saree** shimmering as she giggled. "He is the father of a daughter, Shiv. *Thoda bhav khana toh banta hai.*" (It's natural for him to be a bit picky.)

She looked at Tanya with a knowing wink. "Maybe it’s just that you don't know how to impress him. Right, Tanya?"

"Yes! Exactly right!" Tanya cheered, crossing her arms and nodding in agreement with the Yuvrani.

Shivay rolled his eyes, looking toward his best friend for support. "Bhabhi, you’re talking as if your father also showed this much attitude when Rudra asked for your hand."

Ishita didn't even blink. She just tilted her head toward the man standing behind her. "Yeh toh tum apne dost se puch lo." (You should ask your friend about that.)

Rudra let out a low, dark chuckle that vibrated through Ishita’s shoulder. He tightened his grip on her waist, his **ocean-blue eyes** reflecting the memory of the many times he’d had to prove his worth to the Sharma family.

"Papa se zyada toh inke nakhre hain," (She has more tantrums than her father,) Rudra muttered, his voice a gravelly rumble. He leaned down, his breath warm against Ishita's ear, right near those moles on her jawline.

"*Baap ko manana aasaan hai... biwi aur girlfriend ko nahi.*" (It’s easy to convince the father... it's the wife and girlfriend who are impossible.)

Ishita swatted at his arm, but the blush on her brown skin told everyone that she secretly loved the attention.

The grand hall of the **Raj Mahal** suddenly sounded like a boardroom meeting of the Rathore men. As if on cue, **Papa, Chachu, Vardaan, Akshat, Jay, and Veer** all nodded in perfect, synchronized solidarity with Rudra.

"Agreed!" they chorused, their voices booming off the marble pillars.

Rudra leaned back, a smug, "Cold-Hearted Prince" smirk playing on his lips as he felt the collective support of his brothers and elders. But he should have known better. Ishita didn't let a single detail slide, especially when it came to the younger Rathore.

Ishita slowly turned her head, her **royal purple saree** rustling as she locked her brown eyes onto **Jay**. A mischievous, predatory glint replaced her irritation, and she leaned forward, her ** jhumkas** swaying with every movement.

"Aap kyun agree hain, Devar-ji?" (Why are *you* agreeing, brother-in-law?) she asked, her voice dropping into a playful, teasing lilt.

Jay, the star football player and model, suddenly found his "cool" facade crumbling. He shifted his weight, looking everywhere but at his Bhabhi.

"Aap kise mana rahe hain? Hmm? Koi hai kya?" (Who are you trying to convince? Hmm? Is there someone?) Ishita pushed, her eyebrows wiggling. "Devrani-ji? Hmm... hmmm... hmmm?

The "Bro-Code" evaporated instantly. **Vardaan and Akshat** started snickering, while Rudra just watched with raised eyebrows, his **ocean-blue eyes** sparkling with amusement.

"Bhabhi, aapne toh raga pakad li!" (Bhabhi, you caught the right nerve!) Akshat teased, crossing his arms.

Jay's face turned as red as the rubies in Ishita's necklace. "Nahi... Bhabhi... aisa kuch nahi hai. Main toh bas... Rudra Bhai ki baat se sahmat tha," (No... Bhabhi... it's nothing like that. I was just... agreeing with Rudra Bhai,) he stammered, his usual model-like composure completely gone.

"Sahmat?" (Agreeing?) Ishita giggled, poking his arm. "Ek great football player itna darr gaya? Surely there's a girl behind this 'agreement.' Tell me, who is she? Or do I have to call **King and Oscar** to sniff out the truth?"

Rudra chuckled, his large hand finding the back of Ishita’s neck, his thumb grazing those tiny moles. "Let him breathe, Janna. If there's a 'girl' she won't be able to hide from you for long anyway."

The grand hall was a chaotic battlefield of wit and family secrets. Jay, trapped in the crosshairs of Ishita’s interrogation, finally threw his hands up in a desperate, playful defense.

"Nahi, nahi! Aisa kuch nahi hai!" (No, no! It's nothing like that!) he exclaimed, his model-perfect face flushed. "Woh toh maine apne bhaiyon aur Papas ko dekha hai na... apni-apni waaliyon ke charan dabaate hue!" (I've just seen my brothers and fathers pressing the feet of their respective wives!)

The reaction was instantaneous. Every woman in the room—**Siya Maa, Urmila Chachi, Drishti, Reet, Ahana, and Ishita**—let out a synchronized gasp of mock horror.

"Besharm!" (Shameless!) Siya Maa cried, playfully hitting Jay’s shoulder, while Bebe’s loud, raspy laughter echoed off the marble pillars.

The men didn't even look embarrassed. In a rare show of unified Rathor husband-power, they shrugged. "Toh kya hua? Biwi hai... nahi kar sakte kya?" (So what? She's our wife... can't we do that?)

Drishti stepped forward, reaching out and giving Jay’s ear a firm, sisterly twist. "Jab aap dabaayenge na apni waali ke pair... tab baat karenge, hmm?" (When *you* press your partner's feet... then we'll talk, hmm?)

"Main nahi dabaounga!" (I won't do it!) Jay grumbled, rubbing his ear as he retreated toward the safety of the other men.

Rudra, leaning his frame against the mahogany table, looked down at his wife. His **ocean-blue eyes** glinted with a mix of humor and absolute surrender.

"I also thought like that... but the opposite happened," he confessed, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.

**WHACK.** Ishita didn't hesitate to hit his muscular arm, her brown eyes flashing.

Aditi said " mai Toh dabwati hoon, bhai! Saaf seedhi baat hai," (I make him do it! It's a plain and simple fact,)"Pati hai... yeh nahi karega toh aur kaun karega?" (He's the husband... if he doesn't do it, who will?)

The girls all nodded in fierce agreement, a united front of royal wives and future mothers.

"Of course... girls are always right."

A deep, commanding voice cut through the laughter, turning every head toward the massive palace entrance. Standing there, silhouetted by the Rajasthan sun, was **Krishiv and Chavvi**.

The "Mafia King" looked every bit the protector, but his eyes softened as they landed on the Rathor family. Chavvi, who had become Ishita’s anchor during the dark days of her kidnapping, stepped forward with a radiant smile.

"Chavvi!" Ishita squealed, her **saree** fluttering as she practically flew toward her friend. They collided in a tight, emotional hug, a silent acknowledgment of the bond they’d formed in the shadows.

Rudra stepped forward to Krishiv, the man he had called when the world felt like it was ending. The circle was nearly complete.

The grand hall of the **Raj Mahal** was now a full-blown reunion of power and chaos. **Krishiv and Rudra**—the Mafia King and the Prince—met in the center, their greeting a silent, heavy-duty hug that spoke of life-and-death debts.

But the moment of gravity didn't last long. **Veer and Shivay** practically tackled them, trying to turn the "Dark Duo" into a group hug.

"Behave, both of you," Rudra and Krishiv growled in perfect, terrifying unison, their **ocean-blue** and dark eyes flashing with a synchronized warning.

"Saale emotionless!" (You emotionless jerks!) Veer and Shivay shot back, rolling their eyes at the stoic pair.

Rudra and Krishiv shared a rare, dark smirk. "Only for the world," they murmured together, their voices a gravelly rumble that sent a shiver through the room.

Suddenly, the heavy thud of tiny feet echoed on the marble. **Krish**, having just woken up from his nap, came racing into the hall with his hair tousled and eyes bright.

"Bhabhi!" he squealed, launching himself at Ishita.

Ishita didn't hesitate, catching the little firecracker and hoisting him up against her **saree**.

"Oi! Hamari bhabhi hai, teri nahi!" (Oi! She's our sister-in-law, not yours!) Akshat teased, reaching out to poke his son’s cheek.

"Meri bhi hai!" (She's mine too!) Krish insisted, burying his face in Ishita’s neck.

Ishita giggled, her **heavy gold jhumkas** brushing against Krish’s forehead. "Koi baat nahi, baccha bhi janta hai i am  forever young, you know," she said with a wink, causing the whole family to chuckle at her confidence.

Ishita turned her brown eyes toward Chavvi, a bright, excited smile on her face. "Accha Chavvi... congrats!"

Chavvi blinked, looking confused as she adjusted her dupatta. "For what?"

"For the pregnancy!" Ishita chirped, her voice filled with 100% certainty.

The hall went dead silent. **Krishiv** froze, his head snapping toward his wife like a predator sensing a shift in the wind. "You didn't tell me?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"Hooo! Very bad, Chavvi!" Ishita added, fueling the fire with a mischievous grin.

"Arey par—" Chavvi tried to speak, but Krishiv was already on a roll, his mafia-boss exterior crumbling into a frantic rant about doctors, vitamins, and why he was the last to know.

"Listen!" Chavvi finally yelled over the noise. "**I'm not pregnant!**"

Krishiv stopped mid-sentence, looking like he’d been short-circuited. "But... Ishita toh bol rahi hai." (But... Ishita is saying it.)

"I don't know what happened to her!" Chavvi cried, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

The entire Rathor  and others  turned their gaze toward Ishita, who was still holding Krish, looking remarkably unbothered.

"Arey..." Ishita said, shrugging her  frame with a sheepish grin. "Sab pregnant-pregnant hote ja rahe hain (everyone is getting pregnant)... **Reet** is, **Aditi** is... so I thought maybe you were too!"

Rudra let out a long, weary sigh, burying his face in his hand as the family erupted into fresh peals of laughter. "Janna... you can't just manifest babies for people by guessing," he muttered, though his eyes were sparkling with amusement.

The chaotic tension of "accidental pregnancies" and mafia reunions finally snapped as **Reet**, leaning slightly on Vardaan for support, patted her stomach with a playful pout.

"Agar meet-up ho gaya ho... toh bhuk lagi hai. Chalein?" (If the meet-up is done... I'm hungry. Shall we go?

Ishita’s brown eyes lit up instantly. The Queen, draped in her **royal purple saree** and rose-gold heels, didn't wait for a second invitation.

"Haan chalo, chalo!" (Yes, let's go, let's go!) she cheered, her ** jhumkas** jingling with her sudden movement.

Little **Krish**, sensing a partner-in-crime, didn't even wait for his father Akshat to put him down properly. He scrambled out of Ishita's arms and hit the marble floor running.

"Chalo! Chalo! Chalo!" he chanted, his tiny voice echoing like a drumbeat.

Ishita didn't let him win. She gathered her heavy skirts in one hand and, with a mischievous giggle, started running right alongside him. The "Future Queen" and the "Little Prince" raced down the long, mirrored corridor of the **Raj Mahal**, their laughter trailing behind them like a royal banner.

Behind them, the rest of the group watched in a mix of amusement and sheer disbelief.

**Rudra** let out a low, gravelly sigh, his **ocean-blue eyes** following the blur of purple and gold that was his wife. He looked at **Krishiv**, who was still processing the fact that he wasn't a father-to-be yet.

"Saale, I told you," Rudra muttered, adjusting the cuffs of his black shirt "She’s more child than Queen sometimes."

"At least yours is running," Krishiv countered, watching Chavvi shake her head in fond exasperation. "Mine just tries to kill me with a look."

By the time the adults reached the massive teak dining table, Ishita and Krish were already seated at the head, their plates already being piled high with Rajasthan’s finest: *dal baati churma* and all

"Janna, slow down," Rudra said as he took his seat beside her, his large hand finding the small of her back. "The food isn't going anywhere."

"You worked in the fields, Ru, but I've been doing the heavy lifting of 'family politics' all morning," she teased, popping a piece of *churma* into her mouth. "I’ve earned this."

The afternoon sun had dipped behind the Aravalli hills, painting the Rajasthan sky in shades of bruised orange and gold. In the ladies' sitting room, the air was thick with the scent of jasmine and the rustle of silk as **Drishti, Reet, and Ishita** siya and urmila sat surrounded by open velvet boxes of heirloom jewelry and heavy designer swatches.

Suddenly, a sharp, familiar voice cut through the soft chatter.

"Hamare bina hi shuru kar diya kya?" (Started without us, did you?)

The atmosphere in the room instantly stiffened. Like clockwork, **Drishti, Reet, and Ishita** instinctively pulled their *pallus* over their heads and stood up in a synchronized movement of royal respect. They stepped forward to touch the feet of **Badi Bua**, who stood there with a thin, judgmental smile.

She blessed them with a quick, dismissive tap on the head—purely for *dikhava* (show). Her eyes, sharp and calculating, swept over Ishita’s **saree** and the **heavy gold jhumkas**, silently tallying the cost.

Before the silence could get awkward, a second woman stepped into the light. She had a face that looked like a younger, softer version of Bebe. This was **Chhoti Bua**, the one who had been out of the country during Ishita and Rudra’s wedding.

Bebe stood up, her face lighting up with genuine warmth. "Ishu... ye meri sabse chhoti beti hai. Matlab teri **Chhoti Bua**."

Ishita felt a wave of relief. She stepped forward, this time touching the feet with genuine reverence. Chhoti Bua didn't just tap her head; she pulled Ishita into a warm embrace, blessing her profusely before performing a proper *muh dikhayi* for the new bride, tucking a delicate gold coin into Ishita's palm.

"Hamein toh introduce nahi karvaya?" (No one introduced me?) Badi Bua chirped, her tone laced with faux offense.

Urmila Chachi didn't miss a beat. "Aapko toh jaanti hai na? Mili bhi hai kai baar." (She knows you, right? She's met you several times.)

The room quickly filled up as both **Phupha-jis** (Bua's husbands) entered. The three daughters-in-law repeated the ritual, touching their feet with the grace expected of the Rathor bahus.

Then came the cousins. Badi Bua’s son, already married and looking every bit the entitled elder nephew, stood beside his wife. But it was Chhoti Bua’s children who caught Ishita's eye. They were roughly her age—vibrant and unmarried—bringing a much-needed breath of fresh air into the room.

The atmosphere in the ladies' sitting room was already simmering with Badi Bua’s judgmental energy, but the arrival of the "Chaos Trio"—**Tanya, Aditi, and Chavvi**—was like throwing a lit match into a room full of silk and sarcasm.

Aditi and Tanya burst in mid-laugh, their voices echoing off the vaulted ceilings. Badi Bua’s face curdled as if she’d just swallowed a whole lemon. She adjusted her heavy pallu and peered over her spectacles.

"Ye kaun hain?" (Who are these people?) she asked, her voice dripping with the "Royal Relative" superiority complex.

Siya Maa quickly stepped in to explain the friendships, but Aditi didn't wait for the formal introduction. She marched right up to Badi Bua with a grin that spelled nothing but trouble.

"Namaste, Bua-ji! Main Aditi, Ishita ki bachpan ki jaan aur Rudra Jiju ki sabse pyaari saali!" (I'm Aditi, Ishita's childhood soulmate and Rudra's favorite sister-in-law!) she chirped, barely giving the woman a chance to blink.

Ishita felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. She knew that look in Aditi’s eye—it was the "I'm about to roast a relative" look. From behind her **royal purple saree**, Ishita frantically started gesturing, her hands making sharp "SHUT UP" motions while her **heavy gold jhumkas** rattled with the effort.

When gesturing failed, Ishita lunged forward and gave Aditi’s arm a sharp "sisterly" pinch, then a light hit to the back of her head.

"Shut up, Aditi! behave!" Ishita hissed under her breath.

Does Aditi listen? Of course not. She has a mouth that moves faster than a Rajasthan express train.

"Arrey, Ishu! Kyun maar rahi hai? Bua-ji toh bilkul waisi hi dikhti hain jaisa tune bataya tha!" (Why are you hitting me? Bua-ji looks exactly like you described!) Aditi exclaimed, her voice loud enough for the entire wing of the palace to hear.

The room went "pin-drop" silent. Badi Bua’s eyes narrowed into slits. "Achha? Kya bataya tha isne mere baare mein?" (Oh? And what did she tell you about me?)

Ishita’s soul practically left her  body. She looked at the ceiling, praying for a marble pillar to swallow her whole.

"Yahi... ki aap bahut... 'disciplined' hain," (That you are very... 'disciplined',) Aditi said, pausing for a dramatic beat while Tanya and Chavvi bit their lips to keep from howling with laughter. "Aur ye ki aapki saree ki pleats hamesha itni sharp hoti hain ki kisi ka gala kat jaye!" (And that your saree pleats are always so sharp they could cut someone's throat!)

Chhoti Bua let out a sudden, uncontainable giggle, which acted as a signal for the rest of the girls. Even Siya Maa had to hide her face behind her dupatta.

Badi Bua looked like she was about to explode, but before she could utter a word of "Kalyug" philosophy, **Rudra** walked past the open door. He caught Ishita’s panicked eyes and gave a slow, knowing smirk, his **eyes** dancing with silent amusement. He didn't say a word, but the way he adjusted the **shirt and bit his lip*'Good luck with this one, Janna.'*

💖 Ishita's Perspective

I took a deep breath, my fingers digging into the silk of my **royal purple saree**. My jhumkas** were practically vibrating with my rising temper. I tried, I really tried to be the "Ideal Yuvrani" for two minutes.

"Aaaa... Bua-ji, aap thak gayi hongi. Rest kar lijiye ya kuch lengi?" (You must be tired. Will you rest or have something?) I asked, my voice as sweet as the *kaju katli* I’d eaten earlier.

Badi Bua didn't even look at me. She just adjusted her heavy pallu with a sharp, skeletal hand. "Abhi toh Rani bani bhi nahi ho... oder dene lagi kya?" (You haven't even become Queen yet... are you already giving me orders?)

My jaw nearly hit the marble floor. Chhoti Bua tried to play peacemaker, "Didi, aisa nahi bol rahi woh..." (Sister, she isn't saying that...), but Badi Bua just huffed. "Sab pata hai mujhe kya matlab hai!" (I know exactly what she means!

I poked my inner cheek with my tongue, my brown eyes shooting sparks. I looked at Siya Maa with a silent, desperate scream: *What is her problem with me, Maa?!*

I couldn't stay in that room for another second. I gestured for **Drishti** and **Tanya** to follow me, turning to **Reet** with a stern look. "You rest, okay? Don't move."

The moment we crossed the threshold into the massive royal kitchen, the "Sophisticated Queen" act died a quick death. I reached up and pulled my *pallu* off my head aggressively, letting it fall over my shoulder. My frame was trembling with a month's worth of suppressed village-style rage.

I made a tight fist and launched myself forward toward the kitchen door, ready to march back out there and give her a piece of my mind—and maybe a few choice words I’d learned from the village ladies.

"Bhabhi, no! No, no, please no!" Drishti and Tanya both lunged at me, catching my arms and pulling me back before I could make a scene that would be talked about in Rajasthan for a century.

"Chhodo mujhe! (Let me go!)" I hissed, my brown eyes narrowing as I glared at the closed door. "Budhiya meri chaati par moong dalne aa gayi hai!" (The old lady has come to grind lentils on my chest/torture me!)

I shook them off, smoothing out the silk of my saree with jerky, angry movements. "What does she think? That because I'm slim, I don't have a voice? She ignored my wedding, she ignored my parents, and now she's here to judge my 'orders'?"

Tanya bit her lip, trying to hide her giggle. "Ishi, please... Rudra Jiju will handle her if she crosses the line. Don't ruin your manicure!"

"Rudra?" I snorted, reaching for a cold glass of water. "Rudra is too much to his aunts he directly breaks relationship But I? I'm a Sharma girl. We don't do 'break relationship  when someone insults our family."We break them