The sun filtered gently through the sheer curtains of the Rathore mansion, casting golden rays that danced across the polished marble floors. The morning held a sense of warmth — not just from the weather, but from the emotions that lingered in the air. It was Bhai Dooj today, a festival celebrating the eternal bond between brothers and sisters.

In her room, Aina stood quietly in front of the mirror, her delicate hands adjusting the dupatta that trailed over her shoulder. She had dressed up after a long time — not for an occasion where she was being forced, but one where her heart genuinely fluttered with happiness.