The Raizada Villa hummed with the quiet tension of a ceremony about to begin. The air smelled of fresh marigolds and sandalwood incense, a scent that felt both sacred and stifling.
Arnav descended the staircase slowly. The ivory silk of his kurta caught the light with every step, its embroidery stark and fine against the muted backdrop of the hall. His face was a study in composure—eyes steady, jaw set, betraying nothing of the storm that had raged just hours before. To anyone watching, he was the picture of a groom prepared for his fate.
Ranav and Arav flanked him, a step behind—Ranav's gaze sharp and scanning, Arav's usual mischief replaced by a watchful silence. They moved as one unit, a wall of quiet solidarity.
At the foot of the stairs, Bani Dadi waited, her hands already lifted. As they reached her, she began the ritual, her motions slow and deliberate. Her fingers traced circles in the air before each of them, her voice a low, steady murmur meant to ward off any lingering darkness.
"Nazar na lage, beta." May the evil eye not touch you, child.
"Khush raho. Surakshit raho."Be happy. Be safe.
One by one, they bent their heads. Arnav was last. He dipped forward, the movement respectful but detached, as if performing a duty from a script. When he straightened, his eyes met Dadi's for a fleeting second. In hers, he saw a depth of understanding—and a silent plea for strength. He gave the faintest of nods before his expression shuttered once more.
The moment was broken by the sound of the main door opening.
"The Rathores have arrived."
Suman and Vedshree moved forward in unison, their aarti thalis ready, the flames of the cotton wicks dancing nervously. Light and shadow played across the faces in the foyer as the Rathore family entered—smiles polished, attire speaking of careful preparation. The air thickened with unspoken expectations.
Blessings were exchanged, hands folded, pleasantries offered with practiced warmth. The ritual of welcome unfolded seamlessly.
Then Ruby stepped forward, separating herself from her parents' side. She was a vision in peach and gold, her nerves visible only in the slight tremble of her smile. She stopped before Arnav, close enough for the scent of her perfume to mingle with the incense.
"I…" she began, her voice softer than usual. She glanced down, gathering her words. "I've always liked you, Arnav. Since we were kids. I was just… too shy to ever say it." She looked up, her eyes searching his. "I never actually thought this would happen. That I'd be standing here like this. It feels… like a dream."
Her words hung in the air, sincere and vulnerable.
Arnav listened. He was always a good listener. His gaze remained on her, attentive, his posture perfectly polite.
But he didn't smile. He didn't reach out. He didn't soften.
Ranav, standing slightly to the side, felt a knot form in his stomach. He saw the minute tension in the line of Arnav's shoulders, the way his hands remained loosely clasped behind his back—not a posture of ease, but of containment. This wasn't the quiet joy of a man accepting his future; it was the stillness of a man enduring it.
Arav caught it too. His usual levity vanished, replaced by a somber understanding as his eyes darted from Ruby's hopeful face to his brother's impassive one.
Arnav finally spoke, his voice a calm, low baritone that gave nothing away. "I'm glad you're happy, Ruby."
It was the correct response. It was gracious. Yet, it lacked the warmth, the resonance, that such a moment begged for. It was a statement of fact, not a shared sentiment.
A flicker of uncertainty passed through Ruby's eyes, but she quickly masked it with another smile, choosing to interpret his reserve as noble seriousness.
The conversation flowed around them again—elders discussing dates, Suman offering refreshments, laughter bubbling up from a shared anecdote. The engagement machinery was in motion.
But Ranav didn't join the laughter. Neither did Arav. They stood as silent sentinels, their eyes never leaving their brother.
Arnav was there, in the beautiful villa, surrounded by family and festivity. He was performing every part flawlessly.
Yet, with a certainty that chilled them both, Ranav and Arav knew:
Arnav Singh Raizada was present in body, but his spirit was somewhere far away, locked behind walls no celebration could breach.