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As the formar Queen of Udaipur pronounced her unexpected decree, the weight of her words hung heavy in the air, suffocating Devanshi with a sense of inevitability. The mere thought of marrying Shubman, after all that had transpired, felt like a cruel twist of fate—a punishment she could barely comprehend.

Dev fled from the throne room, her footsteps echoing through the empty corridors of the palace as she sought refuge in her chambers. Once inside, she slammed the door and collapsed onto her bed, the tears streaming down her cheeks in a torrent of anguish and regret.

Alone in the darkness, Devanshi's mind raced with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—fear, anger, sorrow, and a gnawing sense of loneliness that threatened to consume her whole. How could she marry a man she barely knew, a man whose heart she had broken without remorse?

Her phone began to ring, Devanshi ignored it, and put it on silent.

Her fingers trembling as she reached for the cherished photograph of her parents that hung on the accent wall. With a heavy sigh, she traced their faces, her heart aching with longing for the comfort and guidance they could no longer provide.

"I'm sorry, Ma, Papa," she whispered, her voice a hoarse murmur in the silence of the room. "I'm so sorry for everything—for letting you down, for tarnishing the legacy you worked so hard to build."

As the night wore on, She found herself ensnared in the clutches of a restless sleep. Her tears dried up and the relentless sobs exhausted her weak form

And as she tossed and turned beneath the weight of her regrets, her mind returned again and again to the memory of Shubman, his eyes filled with hurt and betrayal as she turned her back on him without a second thought. How could she face him now, knowing the pain she had inflicted upon him?

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As the first rays of dawn pierced through the curtains, Devanshi stirred from her slumber, her eyes heavy with the weight of a sleepless night. Before she could fully gather her thoughts, there was a gentle knock at her door, and Kritika, her sister-in-law, entered with a tray of breakfast in hand.

"Good morning, Dev," Kritika greeted, her voice warm with concern as she placed the tray on the bedside table. "I brought you some breakfast. Chal jaldi se kha le. Kal se kuch nahi khaya."

She shook herhead earning a glare form her bhabhi. She managed a weak smile of gratitude as she accepted the tray, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm omelette soothed her. "Thank you, Bhabhi," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kritika settled herself on the edge of the bed, her gaze softening with empathy as she regarded her sister with tender concern. "Dev, I know things have been difficult lately," she began, her words gentle yet tinged with a note of urgency. "But we need to talk."

She nodded. "We... we spoke to Shubman and his parents last night," she confessed, her words careful and measured. "They agreed to come over for the roka ceremony in a week's time." Kritika took her hand in hers.

Devanshi's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Shubman's name. Kritika gently squeeze Devanshi's hand, her expression one of silent solidarity. "Dev, I know this is difficult for you," she murmured, her voice tinged with empathy. "I think, thode dino ke lie apni masi ke ghar jaogi to accha lagega tumhe. Padmnabh got to know it through Avyaan. And he told us to send you there immediately."

Devanshi's eyes widened in surprise at the mention of her cousin's invitation, "I'll pack my clothes for a five days trip." She declared. "I haven't been there since almost a year."

"Kuch help lage to batana." Kritika kissed her head and got up from the bed.

"Bhabhi." She halted, "is Avy bhaiya angry?" Her voice came out meak and scared.

"No he's not, baby. He knows the situation was induced by someone who didn't wish well for you." Kritika informed. A sense of comfort washed over Dev knowing she didn't disappoint her brother.

"And others?"

"Mummy naraz hai thodi aur Vedant Mama sa bhi. Dadu mana kar rahe hai un teeno ko. Chachi asked you not to attend office today. Vo sambhal lenge." She closed the door behind her leaving Aditi with the breakfast she barely started.

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As Shubman stepped into his family home, the weight of the previous night's events hung heavy upon his shoulders. He arranged his luggage back in his room and came out for the dinner.

"Shubman, we need to talk," his father began, his tone grave as he ushered Shubman into the sitting room. "We received a call from Devanshi Thakur's family. They are interested in arranging a marriage alliance."

Shubman's heart plummeted at the news, his anger bubbling to the surface like a volcano on the brink of eruption. "Devanshi Thakur?" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with incredulity. "Usne jo kiya, uske baad bhi, they have the audacity to suggest such a thing?"

His mother sighed. "Shubman," she murmured, her voice gentle yet firm. "We know what happened. And we agree with Namrata ji's decision. If ever those pictures leak, which they wouldn't as the culprit has been jailed and all of the pictures have been destroyed, we need to think about the consequences. Tum dono is society mai ek respective position pe ho. And it's all your hard work."

"Ek baar consider to kar, kake." Shahneel, his sister pleaded.

But Shubman would hear none of it. "Consider?" he scoffed, his frustration boiling over into fury. "What is there to consider? Devanshi Thakur is nothing but trouble—a spoiled princess who thinks she can have whatever she wants, consequences be damned."

Before his parents could interject, Shubman stormed out of the room, leaving his food. How could Devanshi Thakur have orchestrated such a stunt, he wondered.

Shahneel approached him. "Shubman, I know you're angry," she began, her voice soft yet resolute. "But kisi baat ko bina jane mat assume kar kuch bhi. Uski bhi majbooriya rahi hogi. Pehle usse baat kar fir koi conclusion pe aana."

Shubman's jaw clenched at the suggestion, his pride wounded by the mere thought of confronting the woman who had caused him so much heartache. "Baat karu usse?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt. "What could she possibly has to say?"

"You won't know until you try, Kake," she insisted, her words a gentle yet firm. "Give her a chance to explain herself before passing judgment."

With a heavy sigh, Shubman relented, his anger tempered by the wisdom of his sister's counsel. "Fine," he conceded. "I'll talk to her. But don't expect me to forgive her so easily."

Shahneel hugged him tight and let him go to his room to rest.

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Shubman paced back and forth in his room. With a heavy sigh, he picked up his phone and dialed Tarun's number, needing to unburden himself to a trusted friend.

"Shubman, Sab theek hai?" Tarun's voice crackled through the line.

"Bhai kuch baat karni hai," Shubman replied, in a grave tone.

As he recounted the events of the previous evening—from the spiked drinks to the sudden marriage proposal—Shubman felt a surge of anger and resentment bubbling up within him once more. "And now they expect me to marry her?" he fumed, his voice thick with frustration.

Tarun listened patiently, his silence a comforting presence amidst the chaos of Shubman's thoughts. "That's... intense, man," he finally remarked, his voice tinged with sympathy. "But have you tried talking to Dev?"

Shubman scoffed at the suggestion, his anger flaring anew at the mere mention of Devanshi's name. "What's the point?" he snapped, his frustration boiling over into resentment. "She's just like all the other rich girls—spoiled, entitled, and craving attention."

Aashika's voice rang out. "Is that Shubman?" Tarun nodded over the video call.

Aashika in her newly wed attire sat next to her husband. "Shubman, I've been trying to reach Dev all night, but she's not answering her phone. Do you know what happened?"

"Aashi I'll tell you everything." Tarun reassured her. "Shubman, tu thoda rest karle." the call hung up and the room turned sheer silent.