The grand wedding mandap had shimmered under thousands of fairy lights and fragrant marigold garlands only a few hours earlier. The air had been thick with the scent of incense, rose petals, and the nervous energy of a hundred guests. Maeyra had stood there in her heavy red lehenga, her face hidden behind layers of embroidered dupatta, her hands clasped tightly in her lap to hide their violent trembling. Her sister Priya was supposed to be the one sitting beside Arjun Singh Rajput. But Priya had fled with her secret lover just as the pheras were about to begin, leaving their father pale and desperate.

In the chaos of saving family honor, Maeyra had been thrust forward. The priests had continued the rituals with hurried mantras. The sindoor had been applied to her parted hair. The mangalsutra had been fastened around her neck by hands that were not meant to touch her. And now, she was legally and irrevocably married to a man she barely knew. A man who had been promised to her elder sister.