The night was heavy, suffused with tension that made every breath feel sharp. The Rathore Palace was calm now, deceptively calm, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. But the storm outside mirrored the one inside Saanvi’s heart — unresolved, turbulent, and ready to erupt.
She sat in the drawing room, crimson veil loosely draped, hands clasped tightly. The events of the last weeks had left her shaken, but she felt a growing fire inside — determination, courage, and an unshakable will to survive whatever Kabir would throw next.
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