Two months after the press conference that changed everything, Aanya stood in the bridal suite of the restored haveli wing, watching her reflection transform under layers of silk and gold. The lehenga was her own design—deep emerald green with intricate threadwork that caught the light like captured starlight. Each stitch told a story: the jasmine vines climbing the hem represented new beginnings, the peacock feathers at the waist symbolized grace under pressure, and the crescents scattered across the dupatta were a reminder that some journeys require falling before you learn to fly.

"Stop moving," Saira commanded from behind her, working magic with kajal and rose gold. "You're getting married in an hour, not running a marathon."