THE TYRANT'S ENMITY | 18+

1.

• K A S H V I R A N A•

The grand hall of the Rana mansion buzzed with excitement as guests mingled, toasting the latest collection from Rani Costumes, a brand now under my name. This night was meant to celebrate the success of our family business, with a party showcasing my first line as lead designer. I wore a stunning crimson sari, embroidered in gold, with elaborate jewelry that gleamed under the chandelier's soft light. The guests praise was unending, the compliments flowing as smoothly as the champagne, yet I felt detached from it all, smiling politely but lost in my own thoughts.

Being born into a legacy where expectations are as rigid as tradition, especially for the daughter of Jayesh Rana, was never easy. I was raised to maintain our family's image, embodying the perfect combination of grace and restraint. And while everyone around me saw the dutiful daughter, only a handful knew the real me-the one who yearned for freedom beyond these walls.

Just weeks ago, I'd received an offer to model in London, a city far removed from my family's strict views on how I should live my life. Modeling in a world free from restrictions had been my dream for as long as I could remember. My heart had soared when I read the email, feeling as though I could finally be the person I wanted to be. But that hope had been crushed the moment I'd brought it up to my mother.

"London? Kashvi, have you lost your senses? What will people think? You're the face of Rani Costumes, not some runaway model!" she'd scolded, her voice as cold as her disapproval was absolute. Well I knew about it but going to London for so many days without telling my mom would've been risky so I had to ask her .

It wasn't like I hadn't modeled before, though. Despite the restrictions, I'd found ways to sneak out and pursue my dream, defying my family's expectations-secretly, of course. I'd been invited to walk for smaller brands at private shows, and I'd gone, using the pseudonym "Anaya" and taking care to disguise myself. Each time, I draped myself in a veil, a sheer but heavy piece that shielded my face. The brands I worked with made sure not to capture any close-ups, leaving my identity shrouded in mystery. The photographers were asked not to capture so closely and try to hide the details of my face and focus on the costumes.

One such memory flashed vividly in my mind now, a moment I could never forget the first time I modeled under the name Anaya. How I had to ask , email and go to the different offices hiding my face and ask for the opportunities, I would've have got a chance to work with a big brand in a second if I was Kashvi Rana but for them I've always been Anaya .

It had been a small fashion show for an independent designer. The set was intimate, filled with dim lights and an air of secrecy, as if it were more about the art than the fame. I had worn a heavy lehenga, rich in gold and maroon, the intricate patterns woven into the fabric shimmering under the spotlight. My heart raced as I stepped onto the runway for the first time, but what made it different from the fashion shows I'd watched at home was the feeling of anonymity. I was just another model, no name, no background, just an ethereal presence walking the ramp.

The designer had been clear - No one could know who I was. My face had to remain hidden at all costs. The veil I wore was long and flowing, designed to obscure any traces of my identity. It felt like an escape from everything an escape from the heavy expectations of my family, from the constant need to uphold the Rana legacy. For those few minutes, I wasn't Kashvi Rana, the daughter of Jayesh Rana; I was Anaya, a nameless, faceless girl who was free to express herself.

The rush I felt walking those few steps down the runway was intoxicating. I could feel the eyes of the audience on me, but they weren't looking at Kashvi Rana , they were looking at Anaya. And for the first time, I didn't mind the attention. It wasn't for who I was, but for what I had become in that moment , a free spirit, someone who could exist outside the confines of my family's expectations.