The palace was alive with colors, flowers, and the soft hum of wedding preparations. Poornima moved cautiously through the halls, her heart still a storm of conflicting emotions. Today was the Haldi ceremony, the first ritual in the wedding celebrations.

Veeresh stood waiting, calm, confident, and impossibly commanding in his traditional attire. Poornima hesitated, unsure of what to do, but the palace staff gently guided her.

“First, it is the groom’s honor to apply haldi to the bride,” the priest announced.

Veeresh stepped forward. “Poornima,” he said softly, almost gently, “relax.”

Before she could respond, he dipped his fingers into the haldi paste and applied it to her forehead, cheeks, and arms. The touch was light but deliberate, sending a shiver through her. His eyes met hers, dark and intense, and Poornima could feel her resistance waver.

When he finished, Poornima, with a small, teasing smile, picked up some haldi herself and returned the gesture, carefully smearing it on his forehead and cheeks. Veeresh chuckled softly, leaning slightly closer to avoid her playful flicks, and she felt her heart skip a beat.

The room was filled with laughter, the smell of turmeric, and the warmth of family blessings. Despite the tension, Poornima allowed herself a moment of happiness—strange, fleeting, but real.

The next day brought the Mehendi and Chooda ceremonies. The palace courtyard was decorated with marigolds and vibrant fabrics, and Poornima’s hands were adorned with intricate henna patterns. The bridesmaids helped her with the red-and-gold chooda, the traditional bridal bangles, and she felt the weight of the rituals pressing gently on her, symbolizing the life she was stepping into.

Veeresh observed quietly, standing nearby with a faint, approving smile. He didn’t intervene much—letting her immerse herself in the customs—but his presence was commanding, protective, and undeniable.

As Poornima adjusted her bangles, she caught his gaze and quickly looked away, heart racing. The rituals, the colors, the blessings—it all felt surreal. And yet, beneath it all, the tension between them remained—electric, charged, and unspoken.

Even amidst the celebrations, the story of their enemies-to-lovers journey was quietly unfolding, one ritual at a time.