𝐀𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚 : 𝐸𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠

~🥀 Fated Union 🥀~

💗

The mandap wasn't just a structure today it was a breathing embodiment of legacy, soaked in firelight and silent tension.

Built under the open sky of Aryawrat’s royal courtyard, the divine setup looked as if swarg itself had descended upon mitti. Crimson and gold drapes fluttered like blessings in the wind. Intricate brass diyas flickered around the perimeter, their tiny flames dancing with devotion. The earth smelled of rose petals and sandalwood smoke, mingling like an ancient song.

At one side of the mandap, 108 pandits sat in precise rows their white dhotis glowing under torchlight, each chanting mantras in perfect unison. Their voices echoed like waves, rising and falling in a rhythm as old as time. The number wasn’t random 108, the sacred number in Hindu dharma, represents the universe: 1 for the supreme truth, 0 for completeness, and 8 for infinity. Their collective chants turned the air thick with something not just divinity, but destiny.

Everyone stood still, as if time itself had paused to witness what was happening.

And in the middle of it all, the yagna kund blazed steadily, casting its golden warmth over two silent figures sitting before it.

Anubhav Singh Yadhuvanshi.
Every inch the king, yet oddly human tonight. He sat tall and motionless in a regal sherwani, dark gold like the sun dipped in dusk, embroidered with ancient threads of his bloodline. But his hands, resting on his knees, were curled tight. His eyes? Fixed on the sacred fire or perhaps on something far beyond it.

Beside him, draped in the deepest shade of red, sat Haseena.
A storm wrapped in bridal silk.

Her dupatta veiled her like a queen in exile, but her silence said more than any scream could. The lehenga shimmered under the flames, heavy and glorious yet it looked like a burden on her small frame. Kangan in her wrists, payal at her ankles, sindoor waiting just a few mantras away.

But her eyes… her eyes refused to bow.
She wasn’t a dulhan. She was a lioness locked in ritual.

The priest's voice grew louder, signaling the next phase of the wedding.

Anubhav’s eyes drifted away from the flickering flames of the sacred fire and found Haseena sitting beside him. In that moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just her.

The fierce king, the man who carried the weight of an entire kingdom on his shoulders, showed a softness few had ever witnessed. His gaze softened, tender and almost reverent, like discovering a delicate flower blooming in a place he thought was barren.

Just one glimpse of her was enough to heal the hidden scars he carried deep within scars that had long been filled with pain, memories he had locked away in the darkest corners of his heart.

For a fleeting moment, the weight of his entire past flashed before his eyes betrayals, losses, and battles fought in silence. He closed his eyes tightly, as if willing the ghosts to disappear.

And when he opened them again, there she was his unexpected peace.

There was something unexpectedly fragile in the way he looked at her today. A quiet awe, a slow realization that beneath all the power and control, his heart was quietly shifting. It was a look that said without words: This is someone worth fighting for.

For all his darkness and storms, here was a light he hadn’t known he needed. A warmth spreading slowly through his chest, softening the edges of his hardened soul.

His lips curved in a gentle, almost shy smile  not the triumphant smirk of a conqueror, but the simple smile of a man touched by something real, something rare.