The Dawn of the Wedding Day
The Rathore Palace woke before the sun. Priests’ chants echoed through the courtyard, blending with the fragrance of marigolds and roses that adorned every wall. The palace was alive—maids rushing with trays, drummers practicing beats, and guests filling the royal suites.
For years, the Rathore Palace had witnessed battles, negotiations, and victories. Today, it prepared to witness the most personal triumph of its heir: the marriage of Abhimaan Singh Rathore, the storm feared across Rajasthan, with Ishika Malhotra, the girl who became his calm.
👑 Abhimaan, the Groom
Inside his chamber, Abhimaan stood before a mirror, draped in a cream sherwani with gold embroidery. A green emerald brooch rested on his chest, symbolizing Rathore royalty. Yet his eyes, usually sharp with dominance, held a softness rare to him.
Aditya adjusted his turban with a teasing smirk. “Hukum sa, for the first time in your life, you look nervous.”
Abhimaan’s lips curved slightly. “Not nervous. Restless. I just want her by my side now.”
Yuvraj, standing in a crimson sherwani, laughed. “Wah, bhai sa. The man who made the world tremble is now restless for his bride. I love this version of you!”
Abhimaan’s gaze darkened playfully, but before he could retort, Ekansh entered in a navy sherwani, his eyes searching the room until they landed on Anchal. She had just walked in, wearing a silver lehenga that made her glow like the moon.
For a moment, the world stilled. Ekansh’s grip tightened on his sword hilt, his possessive gaze drinking her in. Anchal ignored him, walking straight to Abhimaan with the shagun thaal.
“Bhai sa,” she said softly, the words foreign on her lips but true in her heart, “today my Ishi di becomes yours. Protect her… because she deserves nothing less than the world.”
Abhimaan’s chest tightened at her words. He placed his hand gently on her head. “Bacha, she was mine the moment she smiled at me. And so are you—from today, you are my sister, my pride.”
Anchal blinked rapidly, covering her emotions with a faint smirk. But in her heart, for the first time, she felt like she had a family.
🌹 Ishika, the Bride
In another wing of the palace, Ishika sat before the mirror, draped in a crimson lehenga with intricate zardozi work. Her jewelry sparkled, but nothing compared to the glow on her face.
Her hands trembled as the mehndi with Abhimaan’s name shone on her palms. She remembered every moment—his fierce protection, his possessive love, his tender eyes when he called her meri Ishika.
Anchal entered, her eyes softening instantly. “Ishi di…”
Ishika turned, her eyes filling with tears. “Anchu…”
For a moment, they embraced like two lost pieces finally united.
Anchal whispered, “Don’t cry today. This is your day. You’re not just becoming his bride—you’re becoming the queen of this palace.”
Ishika smiled through her tears. “And you’re my strength. Always.”
The sisters shared a moment before the maids ushered them to the courtyard, where the rituals began.
🌑 The Wedding Procession
The sound of nagada drums filled the air as Abhimaan mounted a white horse, his brothers and guards beside him. Fireworks lit the sky as the Rathore procession marched proudly through the streets of Udaipur, villagers cheering, showering flowers.
Inside the palace courtyard, Ishika waited behind a veil, her heart racing.
As the groom entered, their eyes met through the thin fabric of the sehra. In that moment, the chaos around them melted—only their souls recognized each other.
🔥 The Rituals Begin
The priests chanted as Abhimaan and Ishika sat before the sacred fire. Anchal held the kanyadaan thaal, her hands trembling but steady with resolve.
The priest asked, “Who will give the bride away?”
Before anyone could speak, Anchal stepped forward. “I will.”
The hall gasped. Ishika’s tears fell instantly.
Anchal’s voice was steady. “I may not be her parent, but I am her blood. From the day our family abandoned me, she became my only bond. Today, I give her hand to Abhimaan Singh Rathore, not because I want to, but because I trust he will protect her better than I ever could.”
Abhimaan bowed his head to her. “I swear on my name, Bacha—I will protect her till my last breath.”
The pheras began. With each circle around the fire, their bond deepened.
Abhimaan promised protection.
Ishika promised devotion.
Together, they vowed to raise a family with love.
They promised loyalty till death.
They prayed for prosperity.
They pledged to remain each other’s strength.
And finally, Abhimaan whispered into her ear, “You are mine, Ishika. Only mine. Forever.”
Her whispered reply melted him. “Maan… always yours.”
The crowd erupted in cheers as Abhimaan tied the mangalsutra around her neck, his fingers trembling with uncharacteristic emotion. When he applied sindoor on her forehead, Ishika closed her eyes, tears streaming. She was finally home.
🌹 Celebrations and Emotions
The palace exploded with music and dancing. Guests clapped, Yuvraj pulled Ishika into a teasing whirl, Aditya recorded everything on his phone with a proud grin, and Ekansh stood possessively near Anchal, glaring at any man who dared glance at her.
Later, during the bidaai ritual, Ishika wept, hugging Anchal tightly. “I don’t want to leave you…”
Anchal whispered fiercely, “You’re not leaving me, di. You’re just moving into your destiny. And I’ll always be watching you.”
Even Abhimaan’s eyes softened as he saw their bond. He placed his hand gently on Anchal’s head again. “From today, you have a brother who will never abandon you. Ever.”
Anchal bit her lip to hide her tears, but in her heart, a crack finally healed.
🌸 The Suhaag Raat
That night, the palace quieted. The bride’s chamber glowed with candles and rose petals. Ishika sat on the bed, nervous, her hands fidgeting with her veil.
When Abhimaan entered, she looked up, her breath catching.
He removed his turban slowly, his eyes locked only on her. “You’re not nervous, are you?”
She whispered, “A little.”
He smiled faintly, sitting beside her, cupping her face gently. “You’ve been mine long before these rituals. Tonight, I just remind you of it.”
Her cheeks flushed, and when his lips finally claimed hers, all her fears melted into the fire of his love.
🌑 The Palace Sleeps, A New Era Begins
Outside, Ekansh stood in the corridor, his eyes lingering on the closed bridal chamber. His gaze shifted to Anchal, who walked past, holding files even on this day.
“You work even tonight?” he asked, frustration in his voice.
She smirked. “Business doesn’t wait for weddings.”
He stepped closer, his voice low, dangerous. “And I don’t wait for love.”
Her heart raced, but she walked away, leaving him restless, obsessed.
Inside the chamber, Abhimaan and Ishika’s laughter echoed softly. The storm had finally found its calm, and the palace slept under the glow of a love story that would be remembered for generations.
YOU ARE READING
The Royal love ( Rewriting)
FanficThis story is about a royal man named Abhimaan Singh Rathore and a sweet middle class girl whose parents died when she was a kid and her uncle's aunty and cousins abused her. let's see how they both meet and fall in love.
