The Raghuvanshi Palace — Next Morning

The sunlight filtered through royal silk curtains as birds chirped somewhere far—too far from the darkness inside Aarohi’s heart.

She sat before a giant antique mirror, still dressed in her bridal bangles. Her vermillion had smudged during sleep—if what she experienced last night could even be called that.

Her eyes were red. But she hadn’t cried.

Yet.

A knock on the door. She tensed.

It wasn’t Aviraj.

Instead, a young woman entered—a palace maid, no older than Aarohi.

“Bhabisa,” she said nervously, avoiding eye contact. “Rajmata has summoned you for breakfast in the Rose Courtyard.”

Aarohi nodded.

As the maid turned to leave, she paused. “I’ve seen how they treat new brides here. Don’t let them know you’re scared. They feed on fear.”

Aarohi’s eyes met hers. “What’s your name?”

“Bhavya.”

“Thank you… Bhavya.”

The girl offered a fleeting smile and vanished like a ghost.

---

The Rose Courtyard — 9:00 AM

It looked like something out of a Mughal miniature painting: white marble floor, fountains, rose bushes in full bloom.

But the tension could choke.

Rajmata Devyani sat at the head of the table, wearing a cream silk saree with a blood-red border. She didn’t look at Aarohi when she arrived—only gestured to a chair at the far end.

Several family members were present: royal cousins, ministers, even a retired General.

Then—he entered.

Aviraj, dressed in a tailored navy suit, no sign of the mafia don he was in the underworld. Here, he played the polished prince.

Except his eyes hadn’t changed. They were still stormy.

He sat beside Rajmata. Still no glance at Aarohi.

The silence was broken only when Rajmata spoke.

“So, Mrs. Raghuvanshi,” she said with practiced sweetness, “how are you liking your new world?”

Aarohi kept her voice calm. “It’s beautiful. But I’m still adjusting.”

“Of course,” Devyani smiled. “Some girls bloom. Others break. Let’s hope you’re the former.”

Laughter. Chilling and cultured.

Aviraj looked up. “She’ll do fine.”

That was all he said. But it silenced everyone.

---

Later That Day — Inside the Palace Library

Aarohi wandered into the ancient library, seeking silence. Rows of books towered over her. Dust danced in beams of light.

As she ran her fingers over a set of old manuscripts, one book caught her eye.

“Rajgarh: The Secret Years.”

She pulled it out.

Inside was a page torn and stuffed with an old photograph. A woman in a red saree stood beside a much younger Aviraj. The same eyes. The same pain.

The handwriting beneath read:

“Anaya Raghuvanshi. 1977–2005. The Queen we were told to forget.”

Suddenly, a voice whispered from the shadows, “You’re not supposed to read that.”

She gasped and turned.

A man stepped forward from between the shelves. Tall, sharp-jawed, in plain clothes.

“I’m Inspector Veer Rana. CBI. Undercover.”

“What?” she whispered, heart racing.

He held out his ID. “Keep it. You’ll need proof soon. Aarohi… you’ve married into a house that’s built on secrets. And corpses.”

She stared at him. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re the only innocent one left inside that palace. And sooner or later, you’ll find the key.”

“The key to what?”

To the vault under the Durga mandap Veer whispered. “And to Aviraj Raghuvanshi’s greatest lie.”

---

End of Chapter Two.