Unroyals. That's what people like me are: lucky to be born into wealth but not lucky enough to be born into royalty. 
 
My granddad, Ravi Sawhney, has been obsessed with royalty for so long that he tried to get my father, Dev Sawhney, married to his best friend and the King of Garhwal's eldest daughter. But his hopes went down the drain, as she was in love with the youngest son of the Dwivedis. Granddad has been friends with the king since his childhood; they were inseparable until my great granddad shifted to Nasik to start the wine business. But my granddad often kept going back to Nainital to see the king, then Prince Om Prakash Panwar. It was during one of those visits, the king suggested an alliance between both families. It's long overdue now. 
 
As the eldest daughter in the family, I know I am destined to get married into the Panwar family, into royalty. That's what I've been taught since childhood: that my only aim is to get married and be a good wife and daughter-in-law. And my elder brother would look after the family business.
 
As I got ready to go to the club for my daily badminton practice, I was called up by Granddad.
 
'You'll have a visitor today.' He said, looking up from the newspaper. 
 
'Who Dada?' I ask eagerly. No one visits me ever other than my friends. But my friends would not inform Dada about their visit. 
 
'Where are you going?' He asked, avoiding my question. 
 
'To the club.' I said as I showed him my racquet.
 
'Don't be late. Be home before five.' He said and continued reading the newspaper. I did not question him further and headed to the club.
 
Nashik club is my favourite place to be, a haven away from home. I used to visit the Nashik Club with Granddad as a child. I would roam around the badminton court while he was busy playing golf or chatting with his friends. That's how my love for badminton started. The only thing I am good at. But sometimes I fail, just like now. I failed the first game against Mira, and I don't want to go home without a win. So I convinced her to play another game with 11 as the set point so we could finish it quickly. 
 
'Dhara.' I heard my name being called as I won the first set. It was the girl from the cafeteria.
 
'You've visitors.' She said as I walked towards her. 
 
'Damn!' I cursed as I checked my watch. It was ten past six. Dada asked me to be home before five. He must have sent the visitors here since I was getting late.
 
'Where are they?' I asked as I walked with her out of the court, hurriedly.
 
'First floor of the cafeteria.' She replied. 
 
The first floor of the cafeteria is a private meeting room where people would meet to discuss serious or secretive stuff. I climbed up the stairs to the first floor with the racquet still in my hand, wearing the white knitted t-shirt and skirt prescribed by the club. 
 
The room was lit in a faint yellow light. I spotted two figures at the end of the room, one sitting and one standing, leaning against the table. I started to recognise them as I inched closer. My mouth went dry as I realised the one who was sitting, wearing a blue shirt, gelled up hair, and scrolling through his phone—Aryan Panwar. Goddamn Aryan Panwar. 
 
And the one next to him, leaning against the table with folded hands, wearing a black fitted t-shirt, wavy hair pulled into a man bun, and with an evenly tanned skin, was Agastya Panwar. The one who girls would go crazy for. The vice captain of the T20 and ODI cricket teams.

And my head started to spin a little.