The kitchen buzzed with activity, but Poornima moved through it gracefully, her hands steady as she worked. Under Sharada’s guidance, she cooked a spread of traditional dishes—aromas of saffron, ghee, and spices filling the palace halls.

By evening, the long dining table gleamed with silverware, and relatives gathered, their chatter filling the air. Poornima carried the trays herself, serving politely, her green bangles clinking with each movement.

One by one, the elders tasted her food. Murmurs of delight spread quickly.

“This is delicious!” one aunt praised.

“You remind me of our old royal kitchens,” another said warmly.

They showered her with compliments, and soon gifts were brought—silks, ornaments, little tokens of affection. Poornima bowed her head, accepting each with quiet grace.

Sharada’s heart swelled with pride. Placing a hand on Poornima’s shoulder, she said proudly, “This is my bahu, Poornima Raj. She has the strength of Mewar and the patience of tradition. Our family is blessed.”

Poornima smiled faintly, though inside, she still felt like a stranger in this new life.

Just then, Veeresh arrived, his tall frame commanding instant attention. Sharada looked up eagerly. “Beta, dinner is ready. Come, eat with us.”

Veeresh shook his head curtly. “I already had dinner.”

The words stung, a shadow falling over Poornima’s glow. She excused herself quickly and followed him out into the corridor.

“Do you ever have patience to listen before reacting?” she demanded softly, eyes flashing.

Veeresh turned, taken aback. She continued, her voice steady: “The auction project tomorrow—it’s happening in my hotel. I’ll be there the entire day with my team. That’s why I said I couldn’t be with you.”

For the first time, silence fell between them, heavy and unspoken. Veeresh’s eyes softened, his tone low and serious. “Alright. I understand. But remember this—this marriage… it’s no joke for me. I want it to work.”

Poornima’s lips curved into the faintest smirk. “Really, Mr. Raj?”

He stepped closer, holding her gaze without flinching. “Yes, Mrs. Raj.”

For a moment, the world around them blurred—just two people standing in the palace corridor, enemies by fate, yet drawn to something neither could deny.