The village temple looked breathtaking beneath the evening sky. Shades of pink, purple, and orange painted the horizon as the sun slowly disappeared behind the distant trees.

The temple bells rang softly through the air, their gentle jingling mixing with the sound of women's anklets as devotees moved around the temple, seeking blessings.

The fragrance of fresh flowers filled the surroundings. Marigolds and jasmine decorated the temple, their scent drifting through the cool evening breeze.

Everything felt peaceful. Almost magical.

In front of the beautifully decorated idols of Mahadev and Parvati, a tall man stood quietly.

Vivaan Singh Rathore.

He looked striking even in the simplest way. Dressed in a traditional kurta, he stood with his hands joined in prayer, his head slightly lowered.

There was something unexpectedly peaceful about him here. Nothing like the man people knew outside these temple walls.

The man whose name was associated with power. The man who rarely showed emotion. The man whose coldness had earned him a reputation of his own.

Here, however, he looked different. Soft. Calm. Almost like an entirely different person. His dark hair fell naturally across his forehead, framing his sharp features. His eyes remained closed as he silently prayed.

After a few moments, he opened them. The priest offered him prasad. Vivaan accepted it respectfully, touched it to his forehead, and then placed it in his mouth.

Before leaving, he looked toward the idols once more. A quiet moment of gratitude passed across his face. Then he stepped away. His bodyguards followed at a respectful distance.

As Vivaan walked through the temple grounds, several villagers began recognizing him. Whispers traveled quickly.

"CM sahab ka beta hai..."

(He's the Chief Minister's son...)

Some people looked at him with curiosity. Others immediately stepped aside. Vivaan never paid attention. He simply continued walking until he reached a quieter area behind the temple.

A cool breeze touched his face. He inhaled slowly. The scent of flowers still lingered in the air.

His dark-brown eyes wandered across the peaceful surroundings until they settled on the river flowing beside the temple. From the elevated walkway, he rested both hands against the railing and looked down at the water.

For the first time that day, there was complete silence around him. Until—

jingle... jingle...

The delicate sound of anklets reached his ears. Vivaan's eyes shifted. Slowly, he looked down.

A small group of girls had gathered near the riverside. Soft classical music played in the background. And in the middle of them... she danced.

Vivaan went completely still. He had seen countless beautiful things throughout his life. Expensive places. Powerful people. Grand celebrations.

But he had never seen anything quite like this. She moved gracefully with the music, every step controlled yet effortless.

Her traditional anarkali swayed gently with each movement, while the evening breeze carried her hair behind her.

There was a soft smile on her face. Not the kind meant to impress anyone. Just a natural, peaceful smile. The fading sunlight touched her face, giving her an almost ethereal glow beneath the pink and purple sky.

Vivaan forgot about the river. Forgot about the temple. Forgot about the people around him. For a moment, it felt as though the entire world had become quiet.

His eyes remained fixed on her. He didn't even realize that he had stopped breathing. Then her dance came to an end. She finished with one final graceful movement.

Her smile remained. And then— She felt it. That unmistakable feeling of being watched. Slowly... Very slowly... She lifted her eyes. And their gazes met.

Brown met charcoal. Everything around Vivaan seemed to disappear. The sounds of the temple bells. The conversations. The music. Even the movement of the river below.

Nothing seemed to matter anymore. He simply stared.

The cold-hearted son of the Chief Minister, a man who had never allowed anyone to occupy a corner of his heart, suddenly felt something unfamiliar.

Something he couldn't name. Something he didn't understand. And for the first time in his life... One woman had managed to make the entire world disappear with a single glance.

She quickly looked away. The soft smile on her face faded as she glanced around, suddenly aware of the attention. Before Vivaan could look away, one of the girls beside her grabbed her hand.

"Hey!, Come with me!"

She pulled her along. The girl turned back toward her friends, and that familiar smile returned to her face. Vivaan didn't move. He simply watched.

Every step. Every movement. Every second until she disappeared from his sight. The breeze moved through his dark hair.

He remained by the railing, staring at the empty space where she had been only moments ago.

Then, slowly... A rare smile appeared on his face. Small. Almost invisible. But genuine. For the first time in a very long time...

Vivaan smiled.

The veranda looked especially beautiful in the soft evening light.

A gentle breeze moved through the open space, carrying the fresh scent of flowers from the garden. The occasional chirping of birds filled the peaceful surroundings, making the entire place feel warm and healing.

In the middle of the large sitting area, a comfortable sofa had been arranged beneath the veranda. Mrs. Suryavanshi, Y/N's grandmother, sat comfortably on one side, while Y/N's mother sat beside her.

In front of them sat a saree vendor who had brought an entire collection for them. Beautiful sarees were spread across the large table between them.

Some were still neatly packed. Others had already been unfolded, their delicate fabrics catching the morning light.

Y/N's mother carefully picked up one saree after another, examining the embroidery and fabric while her mother-in-law watched with interest.

After looking through several options, Y/N's mother pointed toward another saree.

"Vo wali dikhana zara."

(Show me that one, please.)

The vendor immediately picked it up and carefully unfolded it. It was elegant red, with delicate detailing that caught the light beautifully.

Mrs. Suryavanshi looked at it for a moment before nodding approvingly.

"Haan, yeh achhi hai."

(Yes, this one is nice.)

She then turned toward her daughter-in-law with a warm smile.

"Tumpe yeh achhi lagegi, bahu."

(This will look good on you, daughter-in-law.)

Y/N's mother smiled.

"Mujhe bhi pasand aa rahi hai."

(I like it too.)

She handed the saree back to the vendor.

"Isse pack kar dijiye."

(Please pack this one.)

The vendor nodded and began folding it carefully. Just then, footsteps could be heard approaching from inside the house. Y/N appeared in the veranda.

She was dressed casually in a simple T-shirt and trousers, her hair falling naturally around her shoulders. She walked toward them and dropped herself onto the sofa beside her grandmother.

She glanced at the collection spread across the table. Her eyes immediately landed on a deep red saree. Her expression brightened. She picked up the edge of the fabric carefully.

"Wow... kitni sundar saree hai!"

(Wow... what a beautiful saree!)

She turned toward her grandmother with curiosity.

"Dadi, aapne apne liye li hai kya?"

(Grandma, did you buy this for yourself?)

Mrs. Suryavanshi chuckled softly.

"Arey nahi beta, yeh toh tumhari mummy ke liye hai."

(Oh no, dear. This is for your mother.)

Y/N's eyes widened. She looked at the saree again, admiring the rich red colour.

"Oooo..."

She ran her fingers lightly over the fabric.

"Yeh toh bahut sundar hai."

(This is so beautiful.)

Then she looked at her mother with an innocent expression.

"Kya mujhe bhi aisi saree pehenne ko milegi?"

(Will I also get to wear a saree like this?)

Her mother looked at her for a second. Then a teasing smile slowly appeared on her face.

"Jab teri shaadi hogi, tab pehenna."

(Wear one when you get married.)

Y/N looks at her mother. Her grandmother immediately burst into laughter. Even her mother couldn't hold back her smile.

Y/N looked between the two women, completely betrayed.

"Mummy!"

Her mother laughed.

"Kya hua?"

(What happened?)

Y/N crossed her arms dramatically.

"Aapko har baat shaadi pe hi kyun le jaani hoti hai?"

(Why does everything have to lead to marriage with you?)

Mrs. Suryavanshi laughed even harder. The peaceful veranda filled with their laughter as the vendor quietly continued packing the sarees. For a few precious moments, there were no business deals.

Just three generations of women sitting together on a quiet evening... and Y/N being teased by the two people who could get away with it.

The vendor finally finished packing the sarees. After thanking them, he picked up the neatly packed bundles and left the veranda, disappearing through the large wooden doors.

The peacefulness returned. Y/N watched him leave before letting out a tiny sigh. Still pouting from her mother's teasing, she shifted closer to her grandmother and gently rested her head against her shoulder.

Mrs. Suryavanshi looked down at her. A warm smile spread across her face. She leaned down and lovingly kissed the top of Y/N's head.

"Kitni badi ho gayi hai..."

(You've grown up so much...)

Her fingers gently moved through Y/N's hair.

"Kal tak toh yahin gali mein choti si gudiya banke ghooma karti thi."

(Just yesterday, you used to run around here like a little doll.)

She smiled nostalgically.

"Aur ab dekho... shaadi ke layak ho gayi hai."

(And now look... you've grown old enough to get married.)

Y/N's mother nodded softly, a fond expression settling over her face as she looked at her daughter. But Y/N immediately frowned. She lifted her head from her grandmother's shoulder.

"Dadi..."

(Grandma..)

Her voice suddenly became softer.

"Main aap sabko chhodke nahi jaana chahti."

(I don't want to leave all of you.)

Her grandmother looked at her affectionately. Y/N continued with complete seriousness.

"Main kabhi shaadi nahi karungi."

(I'll never get married.)

Her mother looked at her with a curious expression.

"Arey, aisa thodi na hota hai beta."

(Oh sweetheart, it doesn't work that way.)

She gently touched Y/N's cheek.

"Har ladki ko ek na ek din apna ghar chhodkar apne pati ke ghar jaana padta hai."

(Every girl eventually has to leave her home and go to her husband's home.)

Y/N's lips formed another pout. She looked down at her hands. Her grandmother smiled softly.

"Hmm... hum bhi toh yahan aaye the na."

(Hmm... we came here too, didn't we?)

Y/N looked at her grandmother. Her mother nodded.

"Haan, par aap dono ke pati kitne achhe hain."

(Yes, but both of your husbands are such good men.)

Y/N paused. Then she looked between her mother and grandmother.

"Agar mujhe koi itna achha nahi mila toh?"

(What if I don't find someone that good?)

For a moment, both women looked at each other. Then they burst into laughter. Her mother shook her head affectionately.

"Ohhooo... meri beti ke liye toh koi rajkumar aayega."

(Ohh... a prince will come for my daughter.)

She playfully pinched Y/N's cheek.

"Aur tujhe apni palkon par bithakar rakhega."

(And he'll treat you like a princess.)

Y/N's entire face turned red.

"Mummyyy..."

She immediately hid her face against her grandmother's shoulder. Her grandmother laughed warmly, gently patting Y/N's head.

"Haan haan, hamari rajkumari."

(Yes, yes, our little princess.)

Y/N groaned in embarrassment.

"Aap dono mujhe pareshan kar rahe ho."

(You both are teasing me.)

Her mother smiled.

"Kyunki tumhare laal hone wale gaal bahut cute lag rahe hain."

(Because your blushing cheeks look very cute.)

Y/N covered her face completely. The veranda once again filled with their laughter. Outside, the evening breeze moved through the trees.

The birds continued chirping softly. And beneath the warm fading light, Y/N remained nestled beside her grandmother...

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