"𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞"

2. Shadows of the Past

•Currently obsessed with this song🤧

(Aarvi's POV)

The drive back from the event was quiet, but inside my mind, there was anything but peace. I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur as we passed, though I wasn't really seeing them. All I could feel was the weight of Vivaan's words still hanging in the air between us: We don't have to be enemies.

Enemies. I wasn't sure if that's what we were, but we were far from allies. In the dim reflection of the glass, I caught my own eyes, dark with exhaustion. How had it come to this? A quiet chuckle escaped me how indeed. I knew exactly how.

The memory slid in, uninvited.

"Aarvi, come sit," Baba had said one morning, his tone too gentle for it to be good news. I'd hesitated for a moment, feeling something tighten in my chest. When I finally stepped into his office, Ma and Baba were seated across from me, their expressions grim but resolute.

The air in the room had felt thick with expectation, the kind of heavy silence that made your skin prickle. I remembered the way Baba looked at me like he was about to ask me to do something unbearable.

And he did.

"We've been in talks with the Chauhans," he said, his voice measured. "The situation is delicate, but necessary. For both of our families. It's been decided-"

"It's been decided?" I had repeated, my voice sharper than I meant it to be. "Without me?"

Baba's face had softened, but there was a firmness to his words. "Aarvi, this isn't just about you. It's about all of us. About ensuring the legacy of the Mehra name continues."

Legacy. I had hated that word then, and I hated it now. They spoke about legacy like it was this priceless thing we had to preserve, no matter the cost. But what about me? What about the price I had to pay?

"You've always known this day would come," Ma had said softly, reaching out to touch my hand.

I pulled my hand away, standing abruptly. "And the Chauhans? They agreed to this...business deal?"

Baba's eyes had flickered just for a second before he nodded. "Vivaan understands his role in this as well."

Vivaan. Even then, just hearing his name was enough to unsettle me.

---

The memory dissipates, but the bitterness clings to me, much like it did that day. I blink, coming back to the present.

The car slows as we near the gates of the Mehra estate, the grand arches of the house looming ahead like a silent judge to the decision that had already been made. I sigh, leaning my head back against the seat, wondering how long I can keep up this facade before I break under its weight.

---

(Vivaan's POV)

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the Chauhan palace stood cold and indifferent as I entered. It didn't matter how many years I had lived in these halls; it always felt like walking into a chessboard, with everyone a piece in some grand strategy.

I loosened my tie, trying to shake off the conversation I had with Aarvi on the balcony. She was fire unapologetic, fierce, and unwilling to bend. I admired that about her, though I knew it would make things difficult. My father's voice echoed in my mind: You must understand that duty comes before everything else, Vivaan. Sacrifices have to be made.

Duty. Another word I'd grown to resent.

I sat down heavily at my desk, staring at the family crest hanging on the wall. It wasn't just a symbol it was a constant reminder of the weight I carried. The arrangement had been in the works for months, discussions happening behind closed doors. By the time they brought it to Aarvi and me, it was already done.

I had protested at first, not because I didn't see the value in the merger, but because it felt wrong to drag her into something so cold. I remembered the day my father told me like it had just happened.

"Vivaan," my father had said one afternoon, his voice firm. "The Mehra family has agreed to the arrangement. You will marry Aarvi."

The words had been simple, but the meaning behind them was anything but.

"Marriage?" I had asked, though I already knew the answer.

Father had nodded, his expression stoic. "It's the only way forward. Our families need this union. It will solidify our position, ensure that both the Mehra and Chauhan legacies continue."

I had wanted to argue, to push back against the cold practicality of it all. But what was the point? This was my life a life bound by duty, by responsibility.

And now, Aarvi Mehra was a part of that.

---

(Aarvi's POV)

I walk into the house, greeted by silence. It's late, and everyone is probably asleep. I wish I could sleep, too, but the tension from the night still buzzes through me. I step into my room, shutting the door behind me.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and I glance down at the screen, my heart stuttering as Vivaan's name flashes. A text. I hesitate before opening it.

"We need to talk."

Simple. Direct. Typical Vivaan.

I type a response, my fingers hovering over the screen before deleting the message. What could we possibly talk about? He had made his position clear. We were bound to this arrangement, and there was no changing it.

And yet, despite everything, there was an ache a small, persistent question that gnawed at the edges of my mind.

What if we could make this work? What if, in all the cold calculations and negotiations, there was something neither of us had considered?

Or was that just a fool's hope?

---

Back in the present, I sat at my desk, staring at my phone. I had sent Aarvi a message earlier, asking to talk. There were things we needed to discuss, things we needed to figure out if this arrangement was going to work at all.

But there was no response.

I tossed the phone aside, frustration settling deep in my bones. Aarvi was a puzzle one I wasn't sure I wanted to solve, but one I couldn't seem to leave alone.

This alliance was supposed to be simple. A political move, a strategic partnership. But with her, nothing was simple.

And somehow, I had the feeling it never would be.

----

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Till Then
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Stay Happy and Healthy🤍