The Unwanted Royal Marriage

71.Shaadi mubarak

Hey Readers, welcome ! ✨

The journey of The Unwanted Royal Marriage (TURM) is nearing its finale, and your feedback makes it even more special! Here's today's question:

Question of the day:
✨ If TURM had a sequel, what would you want it to be about? ✨

I can't wait to hear your creative ideas! Don't forget to:
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Stay tuned-the climax is closer than you think! 🌟
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Meera's pov

I leaned into Adhyay, his words wrapped around me like a warm embrace, melting away the lingering ache in my heart. I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining the future he spoke of-a life filled with love, laughter, and memories waiting to be made. His promises had a way of grounding me, pulling me out of the storms in my mind and anchoring me in the present.

But then, an idea sparked, something mischievous. I lifted my head, looking at him with a glint in my eyes.

"Adhyay," I began, my tone soft but teasing. "Agar humari shaadi filmy nahi thi, toh kya hua? Yeh shaadi toh filmy ban hi sakti hai!" (Adhyay, if our wedding wasn't cinematic, so what? This one can be!)

His brows furrowed slightly, the corner of his lips twitching as if caught between confusion and amusement. "Kya chal raha hai tumhare dimaag mein, Mrs. Ranawat?" (What's going on in that mind of yours, Mrs. Ranawat?)

I smirked, grabbing his hand and pulling him up from the bed. "Yeh mat pucho. Bas chalo, mujhe ek cheez dikhani hai." (Don't ask. Just come, I need to show you something.)

He allowed me to drag him along, albeit reluctantly. As we walked down the corridor of the palace, I felt the energy of the upcoming wedding seeping into me-the flowers, the laughter echoing from different rooms, the air alive with excitement. I stopped in front of the grand balcony overlooking the garden, which was being prepped for tonight's festivities.

"Yahan kyun laya?" (Why did you bring me here?) he asked, his voice low and curious.

I turned to face him, crossing my arms over my chest, a playful smile tugging at my lips. "Abhi batati hoon," (I'll tell you now,) I said, stepping back into the center of the balcony.

"Picture ke hero aur heroine jaise lagte hain hum dono," I said dramatically, throwing my arms wide as I leaned against the railing. (We look like the hero and heroine of a movie.)

Adhyay shook his head, his signature smirk making its appearance. "Aur kaunsi picture mein heroine apne pati ko zabardasti khinch kar le jati hai?" (And in which movie does the heroine drag the hero around like this?)

I pointed a finger at him. "Shut up, tum dialogues mat maaro. Bas mere saath act karo." (Shut up, don't give me lines. Just act along with me.)

And with that, I broke into song.

"Tum paas aaye, yun muskuraye, tumne na jaane kya sapne dikhaye," I sang softly, holding out my hand. (You came closer, smiled like that, and showed me dreams I never knew existed.)

Adhyay sighed, running a hand over his face as though trying to resist. But he stepped forward, taking my hand. "Meera," he began, but I silenced him with a look.

"Filmy ban na padega, Mr. Ranawat," I teased, swaying us to the invisible rhythm of the music in my head.

He indulged me, pulling me closer. I could see the fondness in his eyes, the way he adored me even when I was being ridiculous. As we swayed, the palace staff glanced up at us and started clapping, one of them even playing music on their phone.