The ceremony commenced shortly after they had finished their breakfast. Devika made it a point to clearly avoid him after those two consecutive embarrassing moments, and Rajveer, matching her retreat, didn't dare to look in her direction either.
The family immediately caught onto the heavy silence between the two of them. Their first collective thought was that the couple had already managed to get into a massive fight. The siblings' faces fell instantly at this dismal conclusion, though neither Rajveer nor Devika noticed the quiet concern brewing around them.
The bride entered the courtyard amidst a roaring crescendo of traditional drums and joyful cheers. Draped in a heavy veil, she took her place beside the groom on the grand lotus seat. A shower of fresh rose petals rained down upon the couple, carrying the family's blessings. Soon, a large golden bowl filled with aromatic green paste was brought forward, and a skilled artist began intricately applying the mehendi onto the bride's palms, while a token amount was smeared onto the groom's fingers.
Rajveer felt a sudden presence beside him. He turned to find Devika slipping up from behind his shoulder, her mouth completely stuffed with a golden laddu while she held two more tightly in her right hand. Without a word, she extended her palm, offering the sweets to him.
Rajveer eyed her with a mix of disbelief and quiet admiration for her sheer bravery. These specific laddus were strictly forbidden by their mother; no one was allowed to touch them until the evening puja was completed. Earlier that morning, both Harsh and Avani had tried to sneak a few, only to have their hands promptly slapped away by a vigilant Maa sa. Yet, here was Devika, casually devouring not one, but three—and judging by the crumbs, probably even more.
Noticing the absolute shock on his face, she flashed a mischievous smile. She secretly pressed one of the laddus into his palm, instantly popping the final one into her own mouth before anyone could look their way.
"Aapko jail ho jaani chahiye abhi tak," Rajveer muttered under his breath, leaning in slightly.
"Khubsurat aurton ko jail nhi hoti! Dekho," she remarked smoothly and casually swept her hand from her face down to her neck in a mock-seductive gesture, causing Rajveer to fiercely bite the inside of his cheek to suppress an outright smile.
"Vaise aapne humare sawal ka jawab nhi diya tha!" she added suddenly, licking her fingers to remove any lingering traces of the sweet syrup.
"Kaisa sawal?" he asked curiously, quickly finishing his own laddu in a single, discrete bite.
"Ki hume aapko bulana kya hai?" she asked casually. Despite her confident tone, a shy, uncontrollable smirk tugged at the corners of her lips.
Rajveer looked at her for a moment. It took his brain a second to realize she was demanding an answer to the very first question she had asked him in their bedroom on the day of his arrival.
He cleared his throat, his posture straightening as he fought the sudden, uncharacteristic sweat forming in his palms. Ignoring the rapid elevation of his heartbeat, he leaned down, bringing his lips dangerously close to the shell of her ear.
"Jo aap chahe," he murmured, his deep voice dropping into a thrilling whisper. "Aapke apne personal pati hain."
The retaliation had the exact, devastating effect he had anticipated. The bright crimson red instantly flooded the tips of her ears, and she aggressively bit her lower lip in deep shyness, her eyes dropping like lead weights to her hands.
Rajveer backed off, thoroughly satisfied, a smug look on his face as he took a moment to admire his handiwork.
Before he could tease her more, Jai's booming voice cut through the air from the center of the courtyard. "Bhabhi!!"
Devika snapped out of her daze, her shy expression instantly dissolving into raw excitement as a broad grin split her face. She turned back to Rajveer, her eyes wide. "Aapko talwar chalani aati hai?" she asked hurriedly.
Rajveer blinked, completely thrown off by the sudden shift in topic. "Thodi-thodi. Bachpan mein chalate the."
"Ok!" she replied breathlessly.
Without another word, she sprinted across the marble floor toward Jai. Jai had already slung a heavy wooden dholak over his shoulders, gripping the sticks tightly. The second Devika reached him, he began striking the leather drum with an aggressive, rhythmic beat. Devika raised her hands into the air, her face lighting up like a child's.
As the tempo of the drums began to accelerate, Devika spun into motion. She turned round and round and round, a blur of vibrant green fabric circling Jai as the older aunties sitting nearby picked up the traditional mehendi folk songs, clapping in time with the rhythm.
Within a minute, the sheer speed of her movements made it difficult to even track her silhouette. She danced with an blinding, ferocious intensity, spinning across the polished stone without ever losing an ounce of her balance.
Sensing the energy peaking, she darted into the crowd, ruthlessly pulling Avani, Sugandha, and Tara into the center with her. The four women formed a spinning, laughing circle, completely surrounding the bride and groom as the courtyard erupted into a sea of clapping hands, flying flower petals, and pure, unfiltered celebration.
Just then, the rhythm of the dholak shifted, and Vikram stepped into the center of the courtyard carrying a velvet-lined silver tray. Resting on it were actual, gleaming ceremonial talwars. He wiggled his eyebrows at Devika, a silent challenge passing between them.
Devika's face lit up. Breaking away from the dancing circle, she ran toward him with that same childish excitement. She slid to a halt right in front of him, pressing her palms together tightly and squeezing her eyes shut, adopting a look of absolute, solemn devotion as if standing before a warrior deity.
Vikram played along without missing a beat. With mock gravity, he lifted one of the heavy swords, gently tapping the flat of the blade against both shoulders of his "samurai" bhabhi, before presenting the hilt to her waiting hands.
"Vijay bhava, putri!!" Vikram boomed in a comically deep, booming voice, causing the entire family to burst into uncontrollable laughter.
The rest of the siblings eagerly scrambled to grab the remaining swords from the tray, the metal clinking softly as they balanced them in their hands. Devika, now holding her own sword with practiced ease, walked over to Rajveer, a second blade resting across her palms.
As Rajveer reached out to casually take it from her, she sharply pulled the weapon back, shoving his hand away in mock anger.
Rajveer froze. He looked at her, then at the sword, instantly realizing what was expected of him. He gave her a hesitant, pleading look, silently begging her to spare him the public theater. But Devika was entirely unyielding—she aggressively snapped her chin to the side, refusing to hand it over until the ritual was properly observed. Around them, the elders and siblings noticed the standoff, smiling broadly and shouting words of encouragement for him to give in.
"Haar Maan lijiye, yuvraaj."
" Ye Devi hai, Devi!"
Taking a deep, resigned breath, the once sharp, cold Rajveer swallowed his pride. He slapped his hands together, closing his eyes, and bowed his head low in front of his wife just as she had done for Vikram.
Devika's face immediately broke into a triumphant, brilliant grin. She raised the sword, tapping the flat of the steel against his broad shoulders with exaggerated authority. Handing the hilt over to his grip, she offered her ultimate blessing in a grand, dramatic tone:
"Vijay bhava, putra!!"
The courtyard transformed into a brilliant, spinning arena of gleaming steel as the siblings began showcasing their sword skills. The heavy blades sliced through the air, their metallic rings perfectly syncing with the accelerating thud of Jai's dholak.
Devika stepped back into the center of the courtyard, her green lehenga swirling around her ankles as she expertly twirled her sword. She didn't look like the playful girl who had just smuggled forbidden laddus in her hands; she looked entirely in her element, her grip firm and her stance flawless. She caught Rajveer's hesitant gaze from across the circle. Instead of teasing him, she offered a sharp, reassuring nod—a silent reassurance that he belonged here, in this circle, just as much as any of them.
With that quiet encouragement anchoring him, Rajveer stepped forward.
The siblings began their dance, a synchronized display of martial art where the swords sliced through the air, clicking against each other in perfect harmony with the accelerating tempo of Jai's drumming. Rajveer integrated into the pattern seamlessly. He spun the blade, parrying a playful swipe from Harsh, and stepped into the rhythm without missing a single beat. A wave of quiet pride washed over him as he realized his body hadn't forgotten its roots. He wasn't just observing his family anymore; he was actively a part of them.
The casual demonstration reached its peak when Vikram stepped into the center, his eyes locked onto Rajveer with a fierce, competitive glint.
With a sharp, resounding clang that echoed off the stone pillars, their swords clashed.
The family erupted into loud cheers and frantic whistling. What had been a group dance instantly narrowed down to a breathtaking, fast-paced duel between the two eldest brothers. Vikram advanced aggressively, his blade striking with heavy, practiced force. The metal sparked as Rajveer blocked the onslaught, his boots scraping against the polished marble floor.
It was a display of pure skill and heritage. Vikram lunged with a sweeping side-strike, aiming to disarm, but Rajveer anticipated the trajectory. With a disciplined, lightning-fast twist of his wrist, he deflected the heavy blade, using Vikram's own momentum to spin past him. Rajveer reset his stance flawlessly, his sword held high and steady, turning to face his brother with a sharp, focused expression.
The courtyard went wild with applause. Harsh and Jai cheered loudly, while the older aunties clapped in rapid rhythm. On the sidelines, Devika stood with her hands resting on the hilt of her own sword, cheering the loudest of them all. Her eyes sparkled with pure, unadulterated thrill as she watched her 'personal' husband command the arena, completely erasing the distance of the last seven years in a single, brilliant display of steel.
---
The heavy celebrations of the afternoon had long since wound down, leaving the palace wrapped in a quiet, exhausted stillness. When Rajveer finally returned to their quarters, the lights were dimmed, but the room was far from asleep.
Devika was sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed, once again fully engrossed in her laptop screen. Both of her palms and forearms were now intricately decorated with the dark, drying green paste of the mehendi, forcing her to keep her hands raised awkwardly in the air, her elbows propped up on a plush velvet pillow to avoid smudging the patterns.
Yet, even with her mobility completely compromised, her legendary hunger hadn't slowed down in the slightest.
On the mattress right in front of her sat a silver plate piled high with apple slices. Unable to use her fingers, she was periodically lowering her entire face toward the plate, dipping her mouth down like a bird to skillfully snap up a piece with her teeth before pulling back to chew.
Rajveer walked over, a faint, amused smile tugging at his lips, and sat down on the edge of the mattress right beside her.
On the glowing screen, the interface showed a matrix of high-definition, night-vision camera feeds. She was actively reviewing the live surveillance of the Hoodas' primary warehouse. As she had explained to him during their drive back from the police station, during her solo stakeout the previous night, she hadn't just listened—she had systematically infiltrated their perimeter, planting several microscopic, military-grade cameras and audio microphones all over the facility.
Sensing his presence, she glanced up, her eyes sharp and alert despite the late hour. She immediately launched into a briefing, filling him with the raw data.
"Kuch logon ko pakad ke laya hai in logon ne," she murmured, nodding toward the main video feed. "Dono baap-bete hain. Vishal and Karan Hooda."
As she spoke, she gestured with a slight tilt of her head toward her left ear, signaling him to take one of the wireless earpods she was wearing. Rajveer leaned in, gently pulling the small device from her ear and placing it into his own. Instantly, the quiet room was filled with the grim, muffled sounds of audio feed—heavy, thudding blows, the harsh commands of Karan Hooda, and the desperate, agonizing screams of the men the Hoodas had abducted for interrogation.
While Rajveer's focus hardened, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the layout of the warehouse and the enemy's interrogation patterns, Devika decided it was time for another snack.
She began lowering her head toward the silver plate again, her mouth open as she aimed for a particularly large apple slice.
Before her face could hit the platter, Rajveer's hand moved. Without breaking his intense gaze from the laptop screen, he reached down, picked up the apple slice cleanly with his fingers, and smoothly brought it up to her lips, blocking her descent.
Devika froze instantly.
Her eyes widened into massive, round circles of pure shock, her face hovering mere inches from the mattress. The sudden, unprompted intimacy of the gesture caught her completely off guard. For a full, silent second, she remained entirely paralyzed, staring at his fingers which held the fruit steady against her lips.
It took her a moment to process the situation before she mentally reminded herself to actually breathe and chew. She carefully took the slice from his fingers with her teeth, pulling back onto her pillow, her cheeks flushing a faint pink under the dim light as she quietly began to eat.
The audio sputtering through the earpod suddenly crackled with a violent, harsh frequency. On the screen, the night-vision feed of the warehouse shifted. The shadows elongated as Karan Hooda—his face twisted into a snarl of manic frustration—hurled a blood-stained iron rod across the concrete floor. It clattered right beneath the support beam where Devika's microscopic camera was concealed.
The man tied to the chair in the center of the feed slouched forward, barely conscious.
"Deewar se sar maar rahe hain hum, Dad," Karan spat, turning toward the darkness outside the camera's frame. "Highway wala intercept fail ho gaya. Mehal ka breach fail ho gaya. Rajveer grid ke andar pahunch chuka hai. Agar usne agle mahine administrative oath le li, toh border ke paar wala humara poora transport corridor hamesha ke liye khatam ho jayega."
A heavy, measured set of footsteps echoed through the audio feed. Vishal Hooda finally stepped into the green-tinted light of the lens. Unlike his erratic son, the older man was chillingly calm. He stopped right in front of the dying prisoner, leaning down until his shadow completely swallowed the man.
"Rajveer sirf gaddi par nahi baith raha hai, Karan," Vishal's voice came through the earpod, low, raspy, and dangerously steady. "Woh saat saal London mein sirf aish-o-aaraam ke liye nahi tha. Aur na hi woh wahan sirf corporate portfolios manage kar raha tha. Woh wahan digital ledger taiyaar kar raha tha."
Beside Rajveer, Devika stopped chewing entirely. Her breath hitched, her ears straining closer toward the laptop.
"Digital ledger?" Karan muttered, confused.
"Wahi encryption keys jo woh apne personal drive mein lekar lauta hai," Vishal explained, his eyes widening with a cold, desperate greed. "Maharaja ka poora offshore banking network—ek-ek asset, har ek political bribe, aur pichle tees saal ke saare hidden laboratory blueprints... sab kuch uske biometric signature ke andar locked hain. Agar Rajveer ne un files ka ek akshar bhi central agencies ke samne ugal diya, ya us capital ka istemaal karke Rathore security division ko weaponize kar diya... toh hum sirf apna business nahi khoyenge. Humara naam-o-nishaan is nakshe se mita diya jayega."
Vishal straightened up, looking directly in the vague direction of the camera, causing Rajveer's muscles to tense instinctively.
"Use lagta hai ki woh yahan sirf shaadi ke liye aaya hai," Vishal whispered, a sinister grin spreading across his face. "Use andaaza bhi nahi hai ki jaise hi woh baarat ke liye mehal ke darwaze se bahar kadam rakhega, woh ek kabristan mein dakhil ho raha hoga. Hume sirf uski jaan nahi chahiye, Karan. Hume uske fingerprint ki zaroorat hai."
The audio cut to a sharp, high-pitched static as the feed suddenly flickered, the screen buzzing violently before stabilizing. Rajveer and Devika sat in absolute, heavy silence, the glowing screen illuminating the stark, dangerous reality of the war they had just inherited.
---
Write a comment ...