BOOK 1 OF THE UNEXPECTED SERIES
In a world where tradition clashes with modernity, Vaidehi is a modern-day princess bound by society's rigid expectations.
Saransh, a brooding prince with a shadowed past, one he's not keen to reveal. Despite his nobl...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I can't remember the last time my mother looked at me with love in her eyes, or the last time my relatives, besides my brothers, were excited to see me. Maybe never. But now, as I stand beside Saransh, his mother performing our aarti, I feel something unfamiliar-everyone's love and excitement directed at me, at us. They're genuinely happy for this marriage, for a union that fills me with anything but happiness.
After the rituals by the door are done, I'm led into the house. It feels strange, as though this place isn't meant for me. It's too luxurious, too polished. Everything here screams elegance and wealth, making me feel like an imposter, a fake princess who's been living in the wrong world. I don't belong here. The slightest touch feels dangerous, as if I'll break something precious.
"Ab sirf meri favourite rasm bachi hai!" Saransh's kakisa exclaims with a squeal of excitement. Two house helps, dressed identically, approach us with a large brass pot filled with milk and rose petals. They even have uniforms for their staff? I can't help but gawk at the extravagance. I recognize this ritual-the one where the bride and groom search for a ring in the pot. Whoever finds it first is said to have the upper hand in the marriage.
(Now only my favourite ritual is left)
Saransh's mother slips a stunning ruby ring off her finger. I've never seen a ring like this before-its ruby center is framed by diamonds shaped like flower petals, all set on a gleaming gold band. It looks impossibly expensive.
Saransh and I sit on opposite sides of the pot, and to my surprise, his kakisa, kakosa, Himanshu, and Rudra stand behind me, choosing my side. Saransh looks visibly betrayed when his brothers casually align themselves with me, and I can't help but feel a tiny spark of satisfaction.
I don't believe that this silly game will decide who has a bigger say in the marriage, but I'm determined not to let Saransh win. The moment the ring drops into the pot, our hands dive into the milk. I avoid searching near Saransh's hand, trying to steer clear of any accidental touch. After a minute, I feel something smooth brush against my fingertips-it's the ring. I grasp it quickly, ready to pull my hand out in victory, but Saransh's large hand clamps over mine, freezing me in place.
What the-? This is so unfair! Why does he have to be so strong? I try to wriggle free, but his grip is firm. I glance up at him, my frustration mounting, only to find him already watching me with those intense, dark eyes. My breath catches. His gaze is piercing, his pupils dilated, and suddenly, it feels like I'm teetering on the edge of a void I could easily fall into.
I bite my lip nervously, and his expression changes slightly, like he's reacting to my every move. My heart skips a beat, and something stirs in my stomach-a feeling I can't quite explain. I can't hold his gaze any longer. I need to look away, need to break whatever spell this moment is casting.
