𝐀𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚 : 𝐸𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠

~🥀 No Escape 🥀~

💗

The weight of silence had never been so heavy. The narrow lanes of Madhubani, usually brimming with life, had fallen eerily quiet. People stood frozen at their doorsteps, their eyes wide with disbelief as they took in the sight before them—the royal procession standing outside Noor Jahan’s modest home.

The guards, dressed in their impeccable uniforms, held their positions in disciplined rows. The golden insignia of Araywrat’s ruling dynasty gleamed under the afternoon sun, a silent declaration of power. Behind them, the grand chariots stood still, their presence alone enough to suffocate the onlookers with awe and apprehension.

At the heart of it all, stood the Yadhuvanshi family.

Rajmata Vaibhavi Yadhuvanshi was at the forefront, her regal poise unshaken by the murmurs around her. To her right, Maharaj Surya Yadhuvanshi observed the surroundings with a piercing gaze, while Maharani Jhanvi remained composed yet unreadable. Satya Yadhuvanshi and Maya stood slightly behind them, their expressions neutral, while Prince Abhinav and Princess Karishma exchanged silent glances, observing the scene with mild curiosity.

And then—there was him.

Anubhav Singh Yadhuvanshi.

Draped in a black sherwani embroidered with intricate silver threadwork, he stood at the back, yet his presence eclipsed all others. His towering frame exuded an aura of silent dominance, his gaze cold, calculating. The weight of his scrutiny sent shivers through those who dared to meet his eyes.

Noor Jahan’s breath hitched as she stepped forward, her body stiff with unease. She clutched the edge of her dupatta tightly, her fingers trembling. She had seen these people before—from afar, on television, in newspapers—but never had she imagined them standing at her doorstep.

Her voice came out weak, laced with disbelief.

“Aap… aap yahaan…?”

The air thickened with tension. The villagers, too afraid to step closer, whispered amongst themselves.

“Raj parivaar ke log yahaan kya kar rahe hain?”
“Aur woh bhi Noor Jahan ke ghar ke saamne?”

But before the murmurs could grow louder, Rajmata Vaibhavi’s voice cut through the thick silence.

“Andar nahi bulaogi humein?”

It wasn’t a question. It was an expectation.

Noor Jahan flinched slightly at the calm yet commanding tone. Her mind raced, panic setting in, but her instincts took over. Swallowing her fear, she stepped aside, her hands shaking as she gestured for them to enter.

The royal family moved forward, their every step echoing against the dry ground. The weight of their presence pressed against the small walls of Noor Jahan’s home as they entered, filling the modest space with an overwhelming aura of authority.

---

The air was thick with silence. The weight of the royal family’s presence crushed down on the small gathering inside Noor Jahan’s humble home. She sat stiffly beside the Sarpanch’s wife, Sadhna, her hands trembling as she clasped them in her lap. Across from them, Rajmata Vaibhavi Yadhuvanshi’s regal posture remained unshaken, her eyes cool and assessing.

Haseena, hidden behind a wooden partition, felt her breath hitch. Her hands clutched the rough edges of the doorframe as she peered through the gap, her heartbeat a violent drum against her ribs. She could see them—the entire royal family seated in her home as if they had every right to be there.

And at the farthest corner, dressed in his black sherwani, sat him.

Anubhav Singh Yadhuvanshi.

His presence was suffocating. Even without looking at him directly, she could feel the weight of his gaze. Cold. Unwavering. Possessive.