💖 Ishita's Perspective

Chaavi cleared her throat, the playful sparkle in her eyes dimming into something softer as she scanned our little circle. "Acha-okay, everyone, I need to tell you something."

She turned to me, reluctance written plain on her face. "Krishiv and I have to leave today. I can't take more time off from the hospital."

My heart dipped like a dropped stone. "Ooo..." I pouted before I could stop myself, the idea of her leaving the palace already tasting like loss.

Chaavi laughed, a short, fond sound. "We've been waiting all morning for you to wake up so we could see you properly before we make any plans."

I reached across the cool stone bench. The red chooda chimed against Chaavi's wrists as I took her hands in both of mine and unleashed my best weapon: entirely unashamed puppy-dog eyes. "Please-just one more day. Stay tonight, Chaavi. The council's almost done, and we barely had time together."

Aditi leaned forward, earnest and urgent. "Yes, please. Veer wanted a proper talk with Krishiv anyway. Don't leave without saying goodbye properly."

Tanya chimed in, enthusiastic. "Shiv will storm the hospital if you leave today. Go tomorrow-just tomorrow morning."

Reet and Dhristi traded amused looks and chimed in with their own sweet insistence.

Bhabhi is right," Dhristi said softly, in that gentle, sensible tone of hers. "One extra day won't hurt. Besides, the palace feels livelier with you here."

Reet flashed a mischievous grin. "And I haven't even finished showing you the winter catalog. You can't abandon your favorite designer now."

They closed in around Chaavi like tidewater around a stone-gentle, irresistible pressure. For a beat she hesitated, eyes flicking from face to face, then let out a dramatic sigh that broke into warmth. "You're all impossible," she said, but her smile gave her away.

I squeezed her hands, my grin unavoidable. "How am I supposed to take no for an answer when I'm the Queen and I'm begging?"

Chaavi's protest dissolved into a laugh. "If Krishiv ever finds out I caved to your puppy eyes, he'll use it against me forever. He'll say my mafia image is ruined."

"Let him," I said with a theatrical shrug. "In this garden, the women make the rules."

She looked at each of us, the corner of her mouth softening. "Fine. Tomorrow morning. I'll call the hospital and extend the leave by twenty-four hours. But tonight-tonight we celebrate properly."

The courtyard exploded into cheers. Ahana jumped up like a spring, clapping her hands. "I'll tell the kitchen-do a real feast. With everything."

Aditi grinned, but raised an eyebrow toward the palace doors. "Careful, Ishita. The moment Rudra hears his Janna is gathered out here, he'll wrap up those meetings in five minutes and come join us."

We all laughed, the sound bright and conspiratorial, the garden filling with warmth and plans. For a moment, the palace seemed smaller-less a maze of duty and more a place where laughter, favors, and sisterhood still held sway.

The crunch of small feet against the gravel cut through our laughter. We all looked up as Krish barreled into the garden courtyard, cheeks flushed, hair tousled, a grin so wide it barely fit his face.

"Badi Maa!" he announced, skidding to a stop in front of the stone bench.

My heart softened at the sight of him. "Yesss, baby?" I leaned forward until we were eye to eye, the red chooda chiming at my wrists.

"Dadi bula rahi hai, aur Nani bhi!" he panted, his chubby finger jabbed toward the palace arches.

I smoothed the pleats of my peacock‑blue net saree, rose, and kissed his forehead. "Main abhi aati hoon. Tum log baatein karo." I turned back toward the women, promising to return.

Reet rose with me, and we drifted back through the carved doorway. The living room, which had been warm and bustling moments before, held a different air now-taut, quiet, charged. At the center of it stood my mother, and Rudra, locked in a stubborn, unspoken duel of wills.

They weren't shouting; they didn't need to. My mother's hands punctuated her words, palms open in earnest appeal. "Humein jaana hoga, beta. Sab kaam ho chuka hai."

Rudra, in his immaculate formal attire, towered-6'3" of silent authority. His arms were folded across a wide chest, jaw clenched like a drawbridge. His ocean‑blue eyes were hard and unyielding. "Nahin. Abhi nahi."

I paused in the threshold, confusion and a prickle of unease fluttering at my ribs. Siya Maa sat nearby on the sofa, composed, watching the standoff with a soft, amused smile. Our eyes met for a beat-hers asked what I already felt-and she only shrugged, mischievous apology written across her face.

The silver payals at my ankles sang softly as I stepped forward. "Kya ho raha hai?" I asked, voice steady but threaded with curiosity.

Riva babhi, always the sensible sibling, hurried to my side. She breathed out the situation quickly, words spilling with worry. "Isha, Mummy keh rahi hain humein chalna chahiye. Sab functions ho gaye hain. Par Rudra Ji mana kar rahe hain." She glanced between our mother and Rudra. "Papa ko bhi wapas jaana zaroori hai-ghar ke bhagwan aur rozana seva ki zimmedari hai. Bahut dino se kuch theek se nahi ho paaya."

Gayatri's expression was a blend of affection and firm conviction as she met Rudra's steely gaze. "Hum nahi chhod sakte. Ghar ki maryada aur pooja ki baatein hamare liye bahut bade hain."

Rudra's stance didn't falter. He looked every inch the monarch-immovable, decisive. Only when his eyes slid toward me did something softer flash across his face, a fleeting tenderness that made my breath catch. But the softness didn't change his answer. He was not ready to send his guests-the Sharmas-back into the outside world just yet.

The room held its breath. Even Siya Maa's amused features smoothed into attentive concern. I felt the weight of both households balancing in that charged silence-tradition and duty pulling one way, Rudra's protective, territorial impulse pulling another.

I stepped forward a fraction, fingers grazing Rudra's sleeve-an almost‑invisible plea. "Rudra?" I began, careful to keep my voice neutral. Whatever he decided next would ripple through both our families. For a moment, the room seemed smaller, every heartbeat louder than the last, waiting for his reply

Rudra's **ocean-blue eyes** snapped toward me the moment I took a step forward, his jaw clenching slightly. "Aap beech mein mat aao, Ishi," he rumbled, his voice low and fiercely commanding, using his private nickname for me even in front of the family.

Mummy turned to me instantly, looking for an ally. "Ishi, tell him we have to go. Make your husband understand."

Before I could even open my mouth, Rudra stepped closer to my mother, his **6'3" muscular frame** towering but his expression completely serious. "Jab aapko pata tha ki aapko yaha rehna padega kafi dino tak, then why didn't you bring your Bhagwan Ji here? Tell me."

Mummy let out a defeated huff, her lips curving into a classic, exasperated pout-making the exact same stubborn face that I always made whenever Rudra teased me.

Riva *bhabhi* stepped forward, trying to ease the tension with a soft smile. "Rudra Ji, koi baat nahi. Hum phir kabhi aa jayenge dubara."

Just then, Papa walked into the living room from the courtyard, his face gentle but firm. "Haan, beta. We will definitely come back soon, but now we have to go. Beta, try to understand."

"But Papa, we all didn't spend any quality time together," Rudra insisted, his ruthless, cold exterior completely melting away into a stubborn, disappointed son-in-law. He gestured vaguely toward the palace corridors. "All these days just passed in the **Raj Tilk** functions and endless royal protocols. I built this place to hold my family, not to watch you leave the moment the ceremonies are over."

My brother, Ravi, walked in behind Papa, offering a sympathetic shrug. "I have pending office work too, Rudra. Fir kabhi pakka."

Feeling completely outnumbered, Rudra finally turned his gaze back to me. His intense, desperate look practically begged me to take his side and issue a royal decree to stop my family from leaving.

I took a slow step forward, the *payals* tinkling softly against the marble. I slid my small hand inside his tailored designer coat, placing my palm directly over his chest. I began gently caressing his chest, my fingers smoothing over the exact spot where **ISHITA and Janna** were etched over his rapid heartbeat.

I looked up into his ocean-blue eyes and subtly shook my head, gesturing with a soft, comforting look that *it's okay, let them go*.

Rudra let out a heavy, frustrated sigh under the soothing touch of my hand, but he

couldn't hide his annoyance. "Accha lagega? Sab log yahan reh rahe hain, but my in-laws are going back? Seriously?"

Siya Maa, who had been watching her son's rare display of childlike stubbornness with an amused smile, finally stood up from the sofa. She walked over and gently placed a hand on Rudra's shoulder.

"Koi baat nahi, beta. Khe toh rahe hain dubara aa jayenge," Siya Maa said softly, her voice full of maternal warmth before a teasing glint entered her eyes. She patted his arm and looked at him pointedly. "Jaane de ab."

Rudra frowned slightly as she delivered the ultimate reality check.

"Tu toh pooja karta nahi hai," Siya Maa teased, references to his lack of faith bringing a smirk to Ravi and Vardaan's faces. "Kisi aur ko karne de at least! (You don't pray anyway, so at least let someone else go and do their prayers!)"

The entire living room erupted into soft laughter at Siya Maa's perfect comeback. Rudra looked down at me, his jaw tightening as he fought back a smile, his large hand coming up to cover mine where it still rested against his beating heart.

Rudra let out a long, defeated breath, his shoulders dropping slightly as he finally surrendered to the collective will of the room. He pulled his phone out from his sleek designer coat pocket, his thumbs hovering over the screen.

"Ok, fine," he rumbled, his voice still laced with a trace of his stubborn imperial pride. "I am booking the first-class flight tickets for everyone right now so you can reach safely before evening."

Suddenly, Mummy's eyes went wide, and she frantically waved her hands in the air. "Nhi, nhi, nhi! (No, no, no!)"

Rudra paused, his thumbs freezing over his phone screen. He looked up at her, a look of pure, unadulterated confusion etching across his handsome face. "Ab kya hua? (What happened now?)"

"Mujhe flight se darr lagta hai!" Mummy confessed, her voice filled with genuine horror as she stepped closer to Papa for moral support. "Aate vakt bhi tumne yahi kiya tha! (You did the exact same thing when we were coming here!) My heart almost jumped out of my chest when that massive steel bird took off." She custom-made a helpless face and pleaded, "Jamai Ji, mujhse hath judva lo, par mujhe us dabba-gadi mein mat baithao! (Son-in-law, I'll fold my hands to you, but please don't make me sit in that metal box!)"

Before Rudra could even process my mother's dramatic refusal, Siya Maa stepped up right beside her, nodding vigorously in absolute solidarity.

"Haan, Rudra, your mother-in-law is right," Siya Maa chimed in, a sheepish smile on her elegant face. "Mujhe bhi darr lagta hai. Aur Urmila aur Bebe ko bhi! (I am scared too, and so are Urmila and Bebe!) When the plane shakes in those clouds, it feels like the world is ending. Don't book any flights."

Chachi Urmila, who was still holding the silver tea tray, nodded her head so fast a stray bindi almost came loose. "Ji, bilkul! Earth is best, sky is dangerous!"

From her recliner, Bebe didn't even look up from her walking stick, but her voice was sharp and final. "If you force this old woman onto a plane, Rudra, I will write my will in Vardaan's favor tonight."

Rudra stood completely frozen, his frame looking utterly powerless against a bunch of traditional Indian women refusing to fly. His ocean-blue eyes blinked once, twice, completely stunned by the sudden rebellion in his own living room.

Standing right next to him, with my hand still resting against his chest, I felt the silent vibrations of a laugh building up in my throat. The mental image of all the powerful matriarchs of the Rathore and Sharma families gripping their armrests in absolute terror during a short domestic flight was too much to handle.

I bit my inner cheek, holding my laugh back as I looked at the panicked faces of our mothers.

"Maa, Mummy..." I started, my voice dripping with pure amusement as my red *chooda* jingled softly against Rudra's lapel. "Flight hai, parachute nahi hai! (It's a commercial flight, not a parachute jump!) You just have to sit there and eat biscuits, you don't have to jump out of it!"

"Tum chup raho, Ishi!" Mummy scolded playfully, her cheeks flushing. "You have become a modern Queen now, so you don't care about your mother's poor heart!"

Rudra let out a low, deeply amused chuckle at my comment, his tense jaw finally relaxing as his large hand came up to securely wrap around my waist, pulling my **5'3" frame** flush against him right in front of everyone.

"Fine," the King declared, a smug smirk returning to his lips as he tapped his phone screen. "No planes. I am arranging a royal convoy of luxury SUVs. My drivers will take you door-to-door. Now don't tell me you are scared of highways too."

👑 Rudra's Perspective

I couldn't help the low, deep chuckle that rumbled in my chest as my frame relaxed, my arm securely anchoring my Janna against my side. Watching her interact with her family was easily my favorite pastime; the fierce, unyielding shield I kept up for the rest of the world completely dissolved around them.

"Mummy is typical," Ishita giggled, her soft voice vibrating against my ribs as her red *chooda* clinked. "She has a problem with everything."

Mummy snapped her head toward us, giving her a sharp, dramatic maternal glare. "Tu hi meri sabse badi problem hai! (You are my biggest problem!)"

"Tabhi aapne meri shaadi kardi? (Is that why you got me married?)" Ishita shot back instantly, raising an eyebrow with that stubborn, beautiful pout that always made my chest tighten with possessiveness.

Ravi leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a smirk. "Exactly. We couldn't handle you anymore, Ishi. We had to pass the responsibility to Rudra."

The entire living room erupted into loud laughter. I just tightened my grip on her waist, my eyes** gleaming as I looked down at her. "I'm not complaining," I rumbled softly, just loud enough for her to hear, making a beautiful shade of crimson rush up her neck over the hidden marks I'd left there.

The playful banter slowly softened into the heavy, emotional atmosphere of a traditional Indian farewell. Ishita stepped out of my embrace, her payals* tinkling as she walked over to Riva *bhabhi*, wrapping her arms around her for a warm, lingering hug.

Next was Papa. The moment she stepped into his arms, the playful, sassy Queen vanished, replaced by the loving daughter. Papa closed his eyes, gently caressing her long curly hair and whispering heartfelt blessings into her ear. Standing a few paces back, my jaw clenched slightly. I vowed silently to the universe-and to the names **ISHITA and Janna** etched over my heartbeat-that this woman would never face a single day of sorrow in my palace.

Then she turned to Mummy.

Mummy held her by the shoulders, her expression a mix of deep love and stern warning. "Jyada ladna mat daamad ji se. (Don't fight too much with your husband.) He is the King, Ishi, control your temper."

Ishita sniffed, but the stubborn Sharma blood in her veins wouldn't let her stay quiet. She tossed her head back, her jhumkas swaying. "Ladai karne ka toh hakk hai mera, Mummy! Kalesh nahi kiya toh aurat jaat kaisi? (Fighting is my birthright! What kind of woman doesn't create a little chaos?)"

A second of shocked silence hung in the air before Siya Maa, Chachi Urmila, and Bebe burst into roaring, boisterous laughter.

"Bilkul sahi kaha!" Bebe cackled, clapping her hands against her walking stick. "A Rathore bahu must know how to keep her husband on his toes!"

Reet practically clapped while laughing, nudging Dhristi. "Oh, I am writing that down! Bhabhi, you are an icon!"

I just shook my head, a smug, dark smirk spreading across my lips. Let her create all the chaos she wanted; she was the only person alive who had the right to question the King of Rajasthan, and I worshipped her for it.

Ishita then dropped down to hug her little cousin sisters, Saanvi and Kriti, squeezing them tightly into her **5'3" frame** as they whined about wanting to stay in the grand palace longer. While they were distracted, Chachi Urmila came forward carrying several beautifully wrapped royal shagun boxes and heavy silver platters filled with traditional sweets and gifts, presenting them formally to the Sharma family.

But the peace didn't last long. The moment the gifts were laid out, Mummy's eyes widened, and she started up all over again.

Mummy's eyes darted from the heavy silver platters to the beautifully wrapped royal shagun boxes, and her classic maternal ranting started up instantly.

"Kya zaroorat thi in sab ki? (What was the need for all of this?)" she exclaimed, looking at Chachi Urmila and Siya Maa with a deeply polite but stressed expression. "We are family now! All this heavy gifting, Jamai Ji, please... we just came to see our daughter, not to take half of your palace wealth back with us!"

Ishita rolled her eyes dramatically She walked over, payals tinkling loudly as she gently nudged her mother toward the grand entrance. "Chalo, chalo, late ho raha hai aap log! (Move it, move it, you guys are getting late!) If you stay here any longer, Mummy, you'll start a whole lecture on economics."

With an amused smirk playing on my lips, I watched my tiny Queen take absolute charge of the situation. She bent down and effortlessly picked up little Purav in her arms, balancing him on her hip, while using her other hand to playfully drag Kriti outside toward the waiting royal convoy of luxury SUVs.

Papa chuckled softly, following right behind her, while Saanvi, Riva *bhabhi*, and Ravi followed close on their heels, amused by how quickly Ishita was evicting them.

Back in the grand living room, Bebe let out a loud, hearty laugh that echoed off the high ceilings. "Look at her She doesn't want to hear another word from her mother."

Mummy threw her hands up in the air, watching her daughter's retreating back through the grand arched doorways. "Yeh ladki...! (This girl...!) I swear, she has zero patience. I am her mother, and she is treating me like an unwanted guest!"

Just then, my father, Ram Singh Rathore, walked into the living room, a warm, booming laugh trailing behind him. He stepped up beside Siya Maa and looked at Mummy with absolute affection and pride.

"Hamari Bahu hai ab, aap kuch nahi keh sakti use, Gayatri Ji," Papa declared with an authoritative but gentle smile, completely claiming Ishita as a true Rathore. "(She is our daughter-in-law now, you cannot say anything to her, Gayatri Ji.)"

Mummy let out a long, dramatic sigh, looking at Siya Maa with a helpless, smiling expression. "Siya Ji, aap aur aapka parivar milkar bigad rahe hain use! (Siya Ji, you and your family are completely spoiling her!) She was already stubborn, but with a King backing her up, she will become impossible to handle."

Bebe leaned heavily on her walking stick, her sharp eyes twinkling with absolute royalty as she cut in before my mother could even reply.

"Hakk hai hamara! (It is our birthright!)" Bebe countered with a proud, unyielding grin. "She is the Queen of Rajasthan and the heart of this house. If the Rathores don't spoil their own daughter, then who will?"

I smiled, stepping forward to wrap my arm around Mummy's shoulders, my easily guiding her toward the grand exit. "Aap kyu tension leti hain itni? Chalo, varna woh aapko yahi chodh degi, (Why do you stress so much? Come, otherwise she will really leave you behind,)" I rumbled, a rare, warm grin breaking through my usual cold exterior.

Mummy sighed in defeat and started walking toward the main portico where the luxury SUVs were lined up, the rest of the family following close behind in a grand procession.

"Uska dhyan rakhna, Rudra," Mummy said softly, her tone turning deeply affectionate and maternal as she looked out at Ishita, who was busy setting Purav safely inside the car. "Abhi bhi bacchon wali harkatein karti hai. (Take care of her, Rudra. She still acts like a child sometimes.)" She looked up at me with earnest eyes. "Koi galti kare toh daat diya karo. Zyada side loge toh aapse hi ladegi... she loves fighting! (Scold her if she makes a mistake. If you take her side too much, she will start fighting with you instead...)"

I let out a low chuckle, my eyes** tracking my beautiful **Janna** as the afternoon sun hit her saree. "Let her fight, Mummy," I murmured, a deeply possessive, soft smile settling on my face. "She has the absolute right."

The entire courtyard became a bustling hub of love, respect, and traditional Indian farewells as everyone gathered around the cars to bid goodbye.

Aditi stepped forward first, wrapping her arms around Mummy for a warm, emotional hug. Dhristi, Reet, and Chaavi immediately stepped up to touch Mummy's feet out of respect, but Mummy instantly denied them, pulling them up by their shoulders instead and wrapping each of them into warm, motherly hugs.

A few paces over, Krishiv, Veer, and Shiv met Papa, greeting him with folded hands and deep, respectful bows, bidding goodbye with all the dignity befitting the family's closest circle. Ahana was busy hugging Kriti, Saanvi, and Riva *bhabhi*, promising to send them the latest jewelry catalogs, while little Krish ran up to Purav, proudly handing him a giant chocolate bar as a parting gift.

My father, Ram Singh Rathore, and Uncle Lakhan stepped forward to share a warm, brotherly embrace with Papa. My brother Ravi stepped up right after, respectfully bending down to touch Ram Papa and Lakhan Chacha's feet to seek their blessings. Following his lead, Akshat, Vardaan, and Jay all stepped forward to touch my father-in-law's feet, their deep respect showing the tightly knit bond of our families.

In the center of it all, the moms-Siya Maa and Chachi Urmila-along with Bebe, were tightly holding hands with Mummy, exchanging final emotional words, blessings, and promises for the upcoming grand reception.

Once the chaotic wave of family goodbyes cleared, I walked over to where Papa was standing by the lead SUV. Even as the King of Rajasthan and a top businessman, before this man, I was simply the husband of his daughter.

I began to bend down, extending my hands to respectfully touch Papa's feet. But before my fingers could even graze his shoes, Papa caught me firmly by my shoulders. He didn't let me touch his feet; instead, he pulled my massive frame forward, wrapping me into a deep, tight, and incredibly proud fatherly hug. He patted my back heavily, a silent gesture of absolute trust, knowing his daughter's heart beat safely under my name.

When he pulled away, I turned to Mummy. I stepped forward to touch her feet as well, but she duplicated the gesture, immediately stopping me with a beautiful, teary-eyed smile. She pulled me into a warm, lingering hug, gently patting my arm.

"Khush raho, beta," she whispered, looking between me and Ishita.

I nodded, my arm smoothly finding its way back around Ishita's waist, pulling her slim figure** flush against my side as the doors of the SUVs were finally closed. With final waves and the soft purr of the luxury engines, the royal convoy slowly rolled out of the palace gates, leaving the King and his Queen standing hand-in-hand in the quiet courtyard.

As the convoy slowly started moving down the grand driveway, Ishita leaned her head against my chest, her small body completely relaxing against me. I kept my arm locked around her waist, my fingers resting against the delicate fabric of her peacock-blue net saree.

She raised her free hand, *chooda* jingling softly in the quiet afternoon air, and waved at the receding cars. "Bye!" she called out, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips.

Suddenly, the rear window of the lead SUV rolled down completely, and little Purav leaned out as far as his car seat would allow. "Bua! Bua! Bua! Bua!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, his tiny voice echoing across the palace courtyard.

Ishita's smile widened, her brown eyes lighting up with absolute affection. She blew him a big, dramatic flying kiss across the distance. "Bye, baby! Go safely!"

"Bua, aap bhi aajao! (Bua, you also come with us!)" Purav shouted back, waving his chocolate-stained hands frantically.

"Baad mein aaungi, abhi aap jao! (I'll come later, for now you go!)" she laughed, shaking her head.

The little guy instantly pouted, his lower lip sticking out in total disappointment, which only made Ishita chuckle softly against my chest.

Beside us, little Krish suddenly broke away from Dhristi's side. He jumped up and down on the gravel, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Bye, Puru! Don't finish all the chocolate!"

Purav didn't even stop chewing. With a mouthful of the giant chocolate bar Krish had just gifted him, he gave one final, messy wave from the window as the luxury SUV finally passed through the massive royal gates of the Rathor Raj Mahal.

I looked down at my Janna, my chest expanding with a deep, possessive breath as she watched the gates close. "Hyyy, mera bacha..." she murmured softly under her breath, a tiny, lingering trace of sadness in her brown eyes now that her parents were gone.

Bebe cleared her throat, her walking stick tapping against the stone. "Ab chalein andar? (Shall we head inside now?)"

With a collective nod, everyone started turning back toward the grand glass doors of the palace. Ishita didn't move away from me, though. She kept her frame glued right to my side, her lip jutting out into a full, dramatic pout as she practically dragged her feet, leaning her entire weight against my chest while we walked. I just tightened my arm around her waist, completely unfazed by her stubbornness, loving the fact that she refused to let go of me even in front of the entire family.

Siya Maa caught sight of her long, dramatic pout and smiled warmly, stepping up to walk on Ishita's other side. She reached out and tenderly caressed her cheek, her jewelry clinking softly.

"Chal, badiya si smoothie banati hoon tere liye, (Come, I'll make a nice smoothie for you,)" Siya Maa offered, her eyes dancing with maternal affection.

Ishita's pout vanished in a split second, replaced by a bright, beaming smile. She leaned over from my shoulder and wrapped her arm around my mother. "I love you, Maa!"

Siya Maa flipped her hair back playfully, throwing a total *Ishita-type vibe* right back at her. "Me to, darling!"

Akshat, who was walking just a few steps behind us with Dhristi, stopped dead in his tracks. He blinked twice, staring at my mother in absolute, utter shock.

"Maa ko kya ho gaya? (What on earth happened to Maa?)" Akshat asked, horrified to see the elegant, traditional matriarch of the Rathore family suddenly acting like a sassy teenager.

Ishita snapped her head back toward him, a wicked, triumphant smirk spreading across her face. "Mera virus ghus gaya! (My virus has successfully entered her!)"

Before Akshat could even respond to that, Ishita threw her head back and burst into a loud, dramatic, **monster-like laugh**. She didn't care about royal etiquette or the grand halls; she just cackled with pure, unfiltered joy, her jhumkas shaking violently against her neck.

I looked down at her, a completely helpless but deeply infatuated smile splitting across my face. She was completely crazy, utterly unmanageable, and she was turning my entire royal palace upside down-and I wouldn't have it any other way.

The rest of the day passed in a warm, comfortable blur of family laughter, endless cups of cardamom chai, and Ishita thoroughly enjoying her custom strawberry smoothie. But the peace of the palace was always fleeting, and by the next morning, it was time for the next departure.

True to her promise to the hospital administration, Chaavi hadn't extended her leave any further. The luxury SUV was packed and idling under the grand portico of the Rathor Raj Mahal, ready to take her and Krishiv to the Jaipur airport.

The farewell was just as loud and emotional as the day before. The women huddled together near the entrance, a chorus of "Call us the moment you land!" and "Don't work too hard at the hospital!" echoing through the courtyard.

While the girls were busy hugging Chaavi for the final time, the men drifted toward the front of the vehicle. Rudra, Krishiv, Veer, and Shiv formed a tight, imposing circle near the driver's side door, their towering statures and sharp designer suits instantly shifting the vibe into something far more serious.

"Keep your eyes open on the eastern routes, Krishiv," Rudra murmured, his voice dropping into that dangerously low, cold baritone he reserved strictly for business and security matters. His eyes** scanned the palace perimeter habitually. "The security feeds from the border restoration project showed some unusual movement last night. I've already alerted the local authorities, but I want your men briefed."

Krishiv, his expression completely locked into his signature, unreadable mafia mask, adjusted his cuffs and gave a slow, calculated nod. "Consider it done, Rathore. My men are already stationed at the Jaipur transit points. If anyone even breathes in the wrong direction near your borders, you'll know before they do."

Veer leaned against the hood of the car, his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw tight. "I've cross-checked the transport logs from *The Rathor Company* for those routes. Everything is clean on our end, but we aren't taking chances. Shiv, did your team double-check the highway escorts?"

"Yeah," Shiv replied, running a hand through his hair, his playful demeanor completely vanishing when it came to the safety of their circle. "The convoy leading Krishiv and Chaavi to the airport is heavy. I've personally vetted the drivers. Relax."

Krishiv patted Rudra's shoulder, a rare, silent gesture of brotherhood between two of the most powerful men in the country. "Don't stress about the shadows, Rudra. Focus on your Queen. You've earned this peace."

Rudra's eyes instantly softened as he glanced past Krishiv's shoulder, tracking his Janna** as she walked down the grand marble steps. The girls-Ishita, Aditi, Tanya, Reet, and Dhristi-were following closely behind Chaavi, laughing at some final inside joke as they escorted her all the way to the open car door.

"Make sure she actually eats something at the airport, Krishiv," Ishita called out, her red *chooda* jingling as she wagged a playful finger at the mafia leader. "She's been running on coffee since yesterday."

Krishiv's hard expression cracked into a genuine smile just for Ishita, remembering how she had become a sister to him during her darkest days. "Your orders are my command, Ranisa."

With final waves, tight hugs, and the heavy thud of the SUV doors closing, the car pulled out of the courtyard. The four friends shared one last knowing look before Krish

Krishiv's car sped away toward the airport, leaving the remaining trio to turn back to the palace.