AUTHOR POV

The afternoon sun began to dip, casting long, elegant shadows across the **Ladies' Garden**. The gathering had grown into a full royal assembly of the Rathor women. **Drishti, Reet, Aditi, Chavvi, Tanya, Chachi, and Bebe** had all joined the circle, creating a vibrant tapestry of silk and laughter.

**Siya Maa**, noticing the conversation was about to take a turn into "grown-up" territory, looked at the two youngest girls. "Kriti, Saanvi... beta, I think **Ahana** was looking for you two near the lily pond. Go see what she’s up to," she said with a gentle, knowing smile.

The two girls squealed and ran off, leaving the atmosphere thick with anticipation.

**Bebe** cleared her throat, her expression turning uncharacteristically solemn as she adjusted her dupatta. The playful chatter died down instantly.

"Haan... toh ab sab sun lo," (Listen up, everyone,) Bebe announced, her Punjabi accent carrying the weight of generations. "From tomorrow, the rituals and *pooja-paath* for the **Raj Tilak** (Coronation) will begin. It is a sacred time for this palace."

She paused, her sharp eyes scanning the faces of the young wives—from Aditi’s glow to Reet’s quiet elegance.

"Listen carefully: no one will engage in any... *ese-vaise* (mischievous) business with their husbands," Bebe declared, her finger pointed for emphasis. "It is not considered auspicious until the Raj Tilak is complete. We must maintain the purity of the rituals."

Then, Bebe’s gaze settled firmly on **Ishita**, who was looking particularly radiant in her **saree**.

"Aur Ishu... tu toh khaas kar dur rehna!" (And Ishu... you especially stay away!) Bebe added, her eyes twinkling with a mix of warning and affection.

Ishita’s brown eyes widened in mock offense, her **earrings** jingling as she sat up straight. "Bebe! Aap mujhe point out kyu kar rahi hain? (Bebe! Why are you pointing me out?) Main nahi karti kuch... main toh achi bachi hoon!" (I don't do anything... I'm such a good girl!)

The garden erupted into a chorus of laughter. **Chavvi** hid a giggle behind her hand, and even **Gayatri Mummy** couldn't help but chuckle at her daughter’s defensive face.

"Achi bachi?" **Drishti** teased, nudging Ishita playfully. "Ishu bhabhi, we’ve seen the way **Rudra bhai** follows you around like a shadow. Keeping him away is like trying to keep the desert from the sun!"

"Wahi toh!" **Aditi** added, laughing heartily. "Aur yaad rakhna... shaadi ke baad koi 'bacha' nahi rehta!" (Exactly! And remember... after marriage, no one remains a 'child'!)

Ishita turned a bright shade of crimson, her gaze dropping to her **toe rings**. She knew they were right—the "Cold Prince" was anything but cold when they were behind closed doors, and the next few days of "distance" were going to be a real test for the man who was obsessed with even the **moles on her jawline**.

The garden erupted into a fresh wave of chaotic laughter, the kind that only happens when a group of sisters and sisters-in-law get together and the filters start to drop. **Ishita**, her face still flushed pink from Bebe's teasing, turned her sharp brown eyes toward **Aditi**.

"Tu toh chup hi reh!" (You just keep quiet!) Ishita countered, adjusting her **saree** with a playful flick. "Maine suna hai romance ka keeda sabse zyada pregnancy mein hi uchhalta hai!" (I’ve heard the romance bug bites the hardest during pregnancy!)

**Aditi** let out a loud, startled laugh, her hand flying to her bump. "Ishu! Bebe ke samne toh sharam kar!" (Ishu! At least have some shame in front of Bebe!) But the rest of the circle was already doubling over in hysterics.

**Tanya**, who had been watching the exchange with an amused grin, raised her hands in mock surrender. "Meri toh shaadi nahi hui... aur na hi pregnancy hai," (I'm not married... and I'm not pregnant,) she pointed out, her eyes twinkling. "Matlab yeh information mere liye nahi hai!" (Meaning this information isn't for me!)

**Chavvi** didn't let her off the hook that easily. "Tumhare liye sabse zyada hai!" (It's most important for you!) she teased, leaning in.

**Riva Bhabhi** decided to join the fray, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper that made even **Gayatri Mummy** and **Siya Maa** giggle. "Sahi baat hai... bina shaadi ke zyada log hungry hote hain!" (True... people are hungrier before marriage!)

She gave a playful nudge to **Ravi's** sister. "Shaadi mein toh yeh hai ki aaj nahi, kal ho jayega romance... there's a lifetime for it. But bina shaadi waalon ko toh roz chahiye!" (In marriage, it's like, if not today, romance will happen tomorrow... but for those not married yet, they want it every day!)

**Bebe** swatted the air with her dupatta, though she was laughing so hard her shoulders were shaking. "Haye ni! Aaj kal di kudiyaan... (Oh my! Today's girls...)" she muttered in Punjabi, looking toward **Siya Maa**. "Humare zamane mein toh hum 'romance' shabd sunke hi kamre mein chhup jaate the!" (In our time, we'd hide in our rooms just hearing the word 'romance'!)

Ishita laughed, her **heavy silver earrings** jingling against her neck, right near those **moles** that **Rudra** was so obsessed with. She looked at the group of women—her mother, her mother-in-law, her friends, and her sisters—and felt a deep sense of belonging.

"Theek hai, theek hai," Ishita said, trying to regain some "Badi Bahu" dignity. "Let's see how our 'Cold Prince' and his brothers handle this 'No-Romance' rule starting tomorrow.

The entire garden went silent for a split second, the air hanging heavy with **Drishti’s** bold challenge, before it exploded into the loudest roar of laughter yet. **Ishita** nearly fell off her marble bench, her **ice-blue silk saree** fluttering as she doubled over, clutching her stomach.

**Drishti**, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, didn't stop there. she pointed a teasing finger toward the "Senior Trio"—**Siya Maa, Chachi, and Gayatri Mummy**.

"Hum toh ruk jayenge..." (We might stop...) Drishti started, her voice full of mock suspicion. "Lekin kahin humein mana karke, aap teeno toh nahi lag jaoge?" (But what if, after forbidding us, you three start your own romance?)

The effect was instantaneous. **Gayatri Mummy**, who had been laughing at Ishita just a second ago, turned a deep shade of crimson that rivaled the sunset. **Chachi** immediately hid her face behind her floral dupatta, her bangles clinking as she shook her head frantically.

But it was **Siya Maa** who reacted most gracefully. She let out a soft, melodic laugh, though a faint pink hue touched her regal cheeks. "Haye ni! Besharam kudiye!" (Oh, you shameless girl!) **Bebe** shouted, swatting at Drishti with her prayer beads, though her own eyes were crinkled with amusement.

"Drishti Bhabhi! Aapne toh direct target hit kiya hai!" (Drishti Bhabhi! You hit the target directly!) **Ishita** managed to gasp out between laughs, her *earrings** jingling wildly. She looked at her mother, who was still struggling to find her voice. "Mummy? Papa ke baare mein kya khayal hai? Will he follow Bebe's rules?"

**Gayatri Mummy** finally found her breath, swatting playfully at Ishita. "Chup kar, badmaash! We are talking about the **Raj Tilak** of the future King, and you girls are making fun of us 'budhas' (old people)!"

"Budhe? Kahan se?" (Old? From where?) **Riva Bhabhi** joined in, winking at the elders. "In the Rathor palace, love has no age limit. I think **Ram Papa** and **Mohan Papa** need to be warned specifically too!"

The garden was practically vibrating with the kind of laughter that makes your stomach ache. **Ishita** was leaning against the marble pillar, her **saree** shimmering as she tried to catch her breath, but the elders weren't done with her yet.

**Bebe** wiped a tear of laughter from her eye and looked at Ishita with a sudden, serious finger-point. "Ishu, tu bol diyo Rudra ko, thik hai? (Ishu, you tell Rudra, okay?) Kyunki tere alava woh kisi ki nahi maanta!" (Because except for you, he doesn't listen to anyone!)

**Aditi** let out a snort, hugging her bump as she shook her head. "Bebe, woh toh is maamle mein iski bhi nahi maanenge!" (Bebe, in this matter, he won't even listen to her!) Everyone knew that when it came to his obsession with Ishita—from her **long curly hair** to the **moles on her jawline**—**Rudra** didn't follow anyone's rules, not even the royal ones.

**Siya Maa**, ever the strategist, leaned in with a playful wink. "Ek kaam kar... Purav ko sula liyo beech mein. (Do one thing... make Purav sleep in between you two.) Chhota hai woh, usse kuch nahi bolega Rudra." (He's small, Rudra won't say anything to him.)

The vision of the muscular "Cold Prince"** being defeated by a one-year-old toddler was too much for the group.

**Chavvi**, who usually stayed quiet, couldn't resist a jab. "Pata chale... bichara Purav raat ko sofa par hai!" (Who knows... poor Purav might end up on the sofa by midnight!)

"Chavvi!" Ishita gasped, her face turning a shade of red that matched her **sindoor**. "Mera **Ru** itna bhi bura nahi hai! (My Ru isn't that bad!) He loves Purav."

"Love apni jagah, aur 'disturbances' apni jagah," **Riva Bhabhi** teased, nudging Ishita’s shoulder. "Better watch out, Ishu. Tonight is your last night of peace before the **Raj Tilak** prayers start. If I were you, I'd start practicing my 'Stay Away' face right now."

Ishita looked down at her **toe rings**, biting her lip to hide a smile. She knew that tonight, when they went back to their chambers, Rudra would probably be waiting to pull her into his arms, oblivious to the "Purav Shield" or the "Bebe Ban" awaiting him tomorrow.

The atmosphere in the **Ladies' Garden** shifted from playful teasing to a more sacred tone as **Bebe** straightened her posture, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the traditions she had upheld for decades. She looked directly at **Ishita**, who was still blushing from the earlier jokes about **Rudra**.

"Ishu," Bebe said, her voice dropping into a firm yet motherly tone. "I am pointing you out more than the others for a reason. You and Rudra will be at the very front of every *pooja*, standing right beside **Ram and Siya**."

She reached out and adjusted the saree** on Ishita’s shoulder, her gaze softening. "The **Raj Tilak** is not just a ceremony; it is a spiritual transition for the future King and Queen. You both have to take the *Sankalp* (sacred vow), and more importantly, he have to perform the **Rudra Abhishek** of the Shivling

"Because you are the ones performing the main rituals," Bebe continued, "your purity and focus must be absolute. That is why it is essential for you to stay away from each other's touch during these days. It’s a test of your devotion, not just to the throne, but to the divine."

**Ishita** felt a shiver of realization. She looked down at her **toe rings** and then at the **mangalsutra** resting against her skin. She knew the weight of the crown was heavy, but the spiritual duty of the **Rathor Bahu** was even heavier.

"Samjhi?" (Understand?) Bebe asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ji, Bebe," Ishita whispered, nodding.

*Bebe’s** tone shifted to the practical and sacred duties of the **Raj Tilak**.

**Bebe** adjusted her spectacles, her gaze turning sharp and maternal. "And one more thing," she added, her Punjabi accent grounding the ethereal atmosphere of the **Raj Mahal**. "If any of you have your period dates approaching, take the medicine for three days. Otherwise, you won't be able to sit in the *pooja*."

A few of the younger wives, like **Tanya and Chavvi**, nodded solemnly. They knew that for a ceremony as massive as the Coronation, every detail had to be perfect.

Then, Bebe turned her full attention back to **Ishita**. Her eyes searched Ishita’s face, looking past the **saree** and the shimmering *earrings**.

"And Ishu..." Bebe said, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial yet hopeful whisper. "If you are pregnant, tell me now. Certain rituals will have to be modified or performed differently for the protection of the heir. *Achha?*" (Okay?)

The garden went so still you could hear the water splashing in the marble fountains. All eyes—**Siya Maa’s, Gayatri Mummy’s, and even Riva Bhabhi’s**—landed directly on Ishita’s

Ishita felt the heat rise from her neck, past the **moles on her jawline** that **Rudra** loved so much, up to her forehead. She instinctively touched the **mangalsutra** resting against her chest.

"Bebe!" Ishita gasped, her brown eyes wide with a mix of shock and shyness. "N-nahi! Aisa kuch nahi hai!" (N-no! It's nothing like that!)

"Are you sure, beta?" **Gayatri Mummy** asked, her maternal instincts kicking in. "You’ve been a bit glowing lately, and your appetite has been... different."

"I'm sure, Mummy!" Ishita insisted, her **payal** jingling as she shifted nervously on the bench. But right now, her heart was racing for a different reason: the **Raj Tilak**.

**Bebe** nodded, though she didn't look entirely convinced. "Theek hai. But remember, the *Sankalp* is a heavy vow. If there is a life growing inside you, the Gods already know. Don't hide it for the sake of the ritual."

Ishita swallowed hard. She knew that tonight, when she faced the man in their private chambers, she didn't just have to tell him about the "No-Touch" rule; she also had to deal with the fact that everyone in the palace was officially on long distance watch

**Ishita** stood tall in her ** saree**, her brown eyes dancing with a sudden, wicked mischief as she adjusted her **earrings**. If they were going to put her on the spot about "good news," she wasn't going down alone.

"Filhaal toh koi bacha nahi hai mere paas," (For now, I don't have any baby,) Ishita declared, her voice ringing clearly through the **Ladies' Garden**.

Then, she leaned forward, her gaze sweeping over the "Senior Squad" with a playful, challenging smirk that made her * payal** jingle.

"Par aur kisi ke paas hai toh bata do?" (But if anyone else has [news], tell us?) she countered, her finger pointing toward the line of matriarchs. "**Drishti, Siya Maa, Chachi, Mummy... aur Bebe?** Pregnancy toh nahi hai?" (Is there a pregnancy?)

The reaction was like a physical explosion of laughter. **Drishti** nearly choked on her tea, while **Chavvi and Tanya** doubled over, clutching their sides.

**Bebe** was the first to react. She raised her prayer beads like a weapon, her face turning a deep shade of Punjabi pink. "Haye ni! Besharam! (Oh, you shameless girl!) Merese yeh sab puchti hai?" (You're asking me this?)

**Siya Maa** hid her face in her elegant dupatta, her shoulders shaking with giggles, while **Gayatri Mummy** swatted at the air toward Ishita. "Ishu! Badmaash! (Mischievous!) Have some shame! We are asking you because it's your time, not ours!"

"Kyu Mummy?" Ishita teased, her figure vibrating with laughter. "In the Rathor and Sharma families, miracles can happen anytime! If I have to stay away from **Rudra** for the **Raj Tilak**, I need to make sure the 'Senior Kings'—**Ram Papa, Lakhan Uncle, and Mohan Papa**—are following the same rules!"

Unbeknownst to the laughing women, a tall, muscular silhouette** had appeared at the edge of the garden archway. **Rudra Singh Rathor** stood there in his dark green shirt, his **ocean-blue eyes** narrowing as he caught the tail end of the conversation.

He caught the mention of "staying away" and his "Cold mask slipped into a look of sheer, dark confusion.

"Staying away from whom, Janna?" his deep, gravelly voice echoed through the garden, cutting through the laughter like a blade.

💖 Ishita's Perspective

I quickly smoothed the pleats of my **saree**, my heart doing a little flutter as **Rudra’s** intense gaze swept over the garden.

"No... no... nothing! Nothing!" I stammered, my * earrings** jingling as I shook my head frantically. "Just random talks, Ru. Women’s talk!"

Rudra didn't look convinced. His muscular frame** remained leaned against the stone archway, his **ocean-blue eyes** narrowing slightly with suspicion. "Maa, Papa bula rahe hain," (Maa, Papa is calling you,) he said, his voice a deep, steady rumble.

As **Siya Maa** and the other elders stood up to leave, I turned to the girls—**Drishti, Reet, and Aditi**—and wiggled my eyebrows pointedly.

"Dekha? Dekha? Abhi se shuru!" (See? See? It’s starting already!) I whispered loudly, making the girls burst into fresh giggles. Even **Chavvi** had to hide her face behind her dupatta.

Rudra stepped closer, the scent of his expensive cologne reaching me before he did. "Janna, meri woh files kahan hain jo kal table par thi? I need them right now."

"Haan, aati hoon," (Yes, I'm coming,)

"I need to go out for work today," he added, his tone shifting back to the Businessman" persona. "I have a few things to settle for the **Eternity** company before the week shuts down."

I stopped mid-step, my **silver payal** giving a sharp *chime* as I turned to face him. "Work? Today? Ru, kal se rituals start hain, pata hai na? (Tomorrow the rituals start, you know that, right?) Still, you're going out?"

He reached out, his large hand almost brushing my arm before he remembered we were in the garden with the family. "Precisely because the rituals start tomorrow, Janna. Once the **Raj Tilak** pooja begins, I won't be able to leave the palace—or you—for days. I need to clear my desk now so I can give the ceremony my full attention."

I looked at him, noticing the slight tiredness around his eyes. He worked so hard to balance the **Rathor company** and his duties as the future King.

"Theek hai," I softened, my brown eyes meeting his. "Go. But come back early for the family dinner.

He said ok love

The door to our private chambers clicked shut, leaving the grand palace's chaos behind. I moved quickly toward the mahogany desk, my ** saree** rustling with every step as I sorted through the leather-bound folders.

"Here are the Eternity files, Ru. And the Rathor Company merger notes are at the bottom," I said, handing them to his muscular frame**. "And listen—take the private jet. Flight se jaana, jaldi jaoge toh jaldi aaoge." (Go by flight; if you go fast, you'll come back fast.)

Rudra stood there, his **dark green shirt** stretched across his broad shoulders, watching me with those **intense ocean-blue eyes**. He didn't interrupt. In the boardroom, he was the ruthless President, but here? He let me run the show.

"Theek hai, Janna," he replied, his voice a low, obedient vibration.

"Aur wahan pohoch kar phone karna. Don't skip lunch because of meetings. And please, tell Akshat bhai to handle the offshore calls so you can be back by sunset," I continued, sounding exactly like the boss I was in this relationship.

He just kept nodding, a small, knowing smirk playing on his "Greek God" face. For the world, he was the "Cold-Hearted Prince," but for me, he was just my husband who couldn't find his own files without help.

I turned back to the table to grab his car keys. "Aur haan, don't forget—"

Before I could finish, a large, warm hand wrapped around my waist, and with one swift, effortless motion, I was pulled flush against him. My **payal** gave a startled jingle as my frame collided with his solid chest.

His other hand came up, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw, right over the **moles** he was so obsessed with. The "Business Prince" was gone; only the man who loved me remained.

"Bohat baatein ho gayi, Janna," (Too much talking, Janna,) he murmured, his breath fanning over my skin, making my **earrings** sway.

"Ru... the flight..." I whispered, though my hands had already found their way to his shoulders, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

"The flight can wait five minutes," he growled softly, his gaze dropping to the **sindoor** in my hair and then to my lips.

I felt the familiar heat of his gaze as he leaned down, his ** frame** casting a shadow over me. But as his lips moved toward mine, a flash of **Bebe’s** stern warning about the **Raj Tilak** rituals crossed my mind.

I quickly turned my face away. Instead of my lips, I felt the warm, firm pressure of his kiss land squarely on my cheek. My **earrings** jingled sharply against my skin with the sudden movement

Rudra froze. He pulled back just an inch, his **ocean-blue eyes** clouding with a mix of confusion and irritation. His hand, still possessively wrapped around my waist, tightened slightly.

"Kya hua?" (What happened?) he asked, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous rumble he used when things didn't go according to his plan.

I bit my lip, my gaze falling to the **silver buttons** on his dark green shirt. I couldn't tell him about the "No-Touch" rule yet. If the "Cold Prince" found out he was being banned from his own wife for the next few days, he’d probably cancel his work trip or argue with Bebe—and I couldn't risk him being distracted before such a big journey.

"Kuch nahi, Ru!" I said, forcing a nervous little laugh that made my **mangalsutra** bounce against my chest. "Woh... actually, mera makeup! I just finished it for the family gathering, and if you kiss me, I'll have to redo the whole thing. You know how long my curly hair takes to set!"

I looked up at him, fluttering my lashes with all the innocence my 5'3" frame could muster.

"And besides," I added, gently pushing against his muscular chest, "you're already late for your flight. If you don't leave now, you won't be back by sunset, and **Mummy** will think I’m keeping you all to myself."

Rudra didn't move. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against the **moles on my jawline**, making my breath hitch.

"Makeup?" he repeated, his voice skeptical. He knew me too well. He knew I didn't care about smudged lipstick when we were alone. "Since when do you care more about your 'look' than your husband, Janna?"

"Since I became the 'Future Queen' of this palace!" I teased, trying to lighten the mood. "Now, go! Take the files and come back fast. I'll be waiting... with a fresh face."

He let out a frustrated huff but finally released my waist, grabbing the leather folders from the desk. "Fine. But I'm holding you to that 'waiting' part when I return tonight."

The afternoon sun glinted off the polished hood of the royal SUV as we walked toward the driveway. My **saree** fluttered in the light breeze, the silver embroidery catching the light with every step. **Rudra** walked beside me, his muscular frame** towering over my height, his hand occasionally brushing against mine as if he couldn't bear to lose contact.

As we reached the car, he turned to face me, his **ocean-blue eyes** softening in a way they only did when we were alone—even if "alone" meant standing in the middle of the palace driveway.

He pulled me into a quick, firm hug, his arms wrapping around my waist like iron bands. "Take care of yourself, Janna," he murmured into my hair, his voice a low rumble. "Don't let the kids tire you out, and if **Badi Bua** says anything to your parents, you tell me the second I land."

"I know, Ru," I whispered, resting my head against his chest for a brief second, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat—the same spot where he had **'ISHITA' and 'Janna'** etched in ink. "Just focus on your meetings and come back soon."

He leaned down, and for a moment, I thought he was going for my lips again. I braced myself to dodge, but he simply pressed a lingering, tender kiss to my forehead. I relaxed, thinking I had successfully navigated the "No-Touch" tension.

But **Rudra Singh Rathor** was never one to play by the rules.

As he pulled back, he shifted his trajectory with lightning speed. Before I could blink, his lips brushed against the side of my neck, finding the exact spot where my **mole** were clustered along my jawline.

The sensation sent a sharp shiver down my spine, my **heavy silver earrings** jingling as I gasped. He lingered there for a heartbeat longer than necessary, a silent, possessive claim before the days of ritualistic distance began.

He straightened up, a victorious, dark smirk playing on his "Greek God" face. "That," he whispered, his eyes dancing with mischief, "is to keep me company on the flight. See you tonight, Janna."

I stood there, my hand instinctively flying to my neck, my heart racing as I watched the car pull away. My payal** gave a quiet chime as I shifted my weight, a mix of love and dread swirling in my chest.

He had no idea that tonight, instead of the "warm welcome" he was expecting, he’d be facing a room with a **toddler shield** and a **Bebe-enforced** boundary.

I stormed into Aditi’s room, the heavy fabric of my **saree** rustling aggressively with every frantic step. I didn't even wait for her to look up from her pregnancy books before I threw myself onto the edge of her bed, my **earrings** jingling with a sharp, distressed clatter.

"Kya hua, Ishu? (What happened, Ishu?) Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?" Aditi asked, her hand resting on her tbump as she gave me a confused look.

"Kaise door rakho unhe! (How do I keep him away!)" I whined, buried my face in a silk cushion. "Woh nahi maanenge, Aditi. (He won't listen, Aditi.) Tonight, he’s definitely in the 'mood' to do *it*. I can see it in those **ocean-blue eyes**—they’re darker than usual!"

I thought back to the way he had just kissed my neck mole at the car—possessive, lingering, and absolutely hungry for more.

"Woh kya? Woh kya? (What 'it'? What 'it'?)" Aditi teased, leaning in with a wicked glint in her eyes. "Be specific, Badi Bahu!"

"Aree vohi, pagal! (Oh that, you crazy girl!)" I snapped, my face turning a shade of red that put the palace roses to shame. "The thing we were all talking about in the garden! The 'No-Mischief' rule!"

Aditi let out a loud, bark-like laugh and swatted my arm. "Aree! Yeh seedha-seedha **sex** bol na! (Oh! Just say 'sex' directly!) Since when did you start using these shy 'filmy' words between us? You’re a married woman, Ishu, not a teenager in a boarding school!"

"Aditi!" I hissed, grabbing a second cushion to muffle my scream. "Dheere bol! (Speak softly!) **Bebe** or **Mummy** might hear you! And yes, okay, *that*. **Rudra** is obsessed with me, you know that. If I tell him 'No' tonight because of a ritual, he’s going to look at me with those puppy-dog eyes mixed with 'frustration, and I’ll melt! I always melt!"

Aditi finally stopped laughing and sat up straight, looking like a General preparing for war. "Okay, listen. If you can’t say 'No' to his face, we need a physical barrier. Did you take **Purav** from Riva Bhabhi yet?"

"Not yet," I whispered, biting my lip. "But **Siya Maa** said it’s the only way."

"Exactly," Aditi nodded. "Go get the baby. And put on your most 'pious' cotton suit—the one that looks like you're ready for a temple visit, not a romantic night. No silk, no lace, and definitely no low-back blouses. If you look like a devotee, maybe the 'Cold Prince' will remember he has a **Raj Tilak** tomorrow!"

I groaned, burying my face in the satin pillows of **Aditi’s** bed, my **heavy silver earrings** clattering with a frustrated jingle.

"Tujhe lagta hai decent clothes and a kid can stop him?" (You think decent clothes and a kid can stop him?) I muffled into the pillow, my voice trembling with a mix of shyness and genuine worry. "No, not at all! I know him. When he wants, he wants at any cost.

I sat up, my **ice-blue silk saree** slipping off my shoulder as I looked at Aditi with wide, panicked brown eyes. "Aur woh... woh aise-aise baatein bolte hain ke main bhi maan jaati hoon!" (And he... he says such things that even I give in!)

I thought about his deep, gravelly voice—the way he whispered my name, '**Janna**,' like it was a prayer and a command all at once. When the muscular 'Cold Prince'** loses his restraint and focuses those **ocean-blue eyes** on me, my 'No' melts faster than ice in the Rajasthan desert.

Aditi let out a loud, unapologetic laugh, her hand resting on her three-month bump. "Haa, haa! Tadap hi aisi hai teri!" (Yes, yes! Such is your longing!) she teased, her eyes dancing with mischief.

"Tera pati hai hi itna hot!" (Your husband is just that hot!) she added, winking at me. "I mean, look at him, Ishu! He’s a **Greek God** type handsome. If **Veer** looked at me the way **Rudra** looks at you—like he wants to devour you right there in the hallway—I wouldn't be able to say 'No' either, rituals or not!"

"Aditi!" I hissed, grabbing a small cushion and throwing it at her. "Hamein **Bebe** ne **Sankalp** lene ko kaha hai! (Bebe has asked us to take a vow!) If I break the 'No-Mischief' rule tonight, I won't be able to look at any family members

"Theek hai, theek hai," Aditi said, catching the cushion and grinning. "If the 'toddler shield' won't work and your 'willpower' is zero because of his 'hotness,' then you only have one option left."

"What?" I asked, hopeful.

"Lock the door... from the *outside*," she joked, before turning serious. "No, seriously, Ishu. You have to tell him about the **Raj Tilak** rules the second he walks in. Don't let him start the 'baatein' (talking). Just say, 'Ru, **Bebe** is watching,' and hope the fear of his grandmother is stronger than his obsession with you