Her friends hooted at the gait of the Royal couple who joined hands and stood to begin the rituals of holy matrimony. Linking their pinky fingers, Yagya smirked at his breathtaking wife as he takes the lead of seven parikramas (rounds) around the fire. Kirti eyes him shyly. A smile played on her thin lips. The moment they took a step forward professing their vows and love for each other, a dark shadow, unseen by naked eyes, enters the grand hall of Rajwada Palace hosting more than 200 guests. Like debris of dead stars floating in space, it swam towards the holy fire, carrying a pungent odor. If anyone noticed the horrible smell, brushed it off. Their focus remained on the happy couple about to embrace a new journey.

The cackling ghost spirit first swirled around a teary Vasundhara standing behind the groom and then surrounded the new bride. It inhaled the fragrance emitting from Kirti's frame- her perfume, the henna-painted hands, and the scented turmeric she used to bathe in the morning. All called for a taste. All it took was one nudge to enter a warm body of a youthful girl full of hope and aspirations. Kirti stopped smiling. All of a sudden, she felt drunk. Euphoria took hold of her brain before her eyes started to fog. She blinked through heaviness but the seductive stroke of darkness carried her to the unconscious.

A grin broke on the now possessed bride's face as the priest asks to commence the ritual. Holding hands with the crowned prince, the ghost bride took rounds around the holy fire that flickered crazily under the influence of negative energy slowly flooding the precinct. Worries etched on Vasundhara's face watching the ferocious blaze extinguishing. Gasps could be heard. A bad omen- they whispered. The gods have refused this union. A troubled priest leans forward to investigate the matter and burns the fire again, ignoring the mass opinion. He was invited to bind these two souls in holy matrimony and will do so honestly. But there was a glitch. In place of two, it was now three souls eager to be tied together. Clueless could only gawk when the blaze went aflame once again and the groom started taking the vows of care, protection, wealth, and responsibility.

After finishing the seven rounds, Yagya turns to tie the Manglasutra- a sacred thread of love and symbol of marriage around Kirti's neck when goosebumps rose on his flesh. Her eyes were bloodshot and wide open. They seemed bigger than usual when she stared at him unblinking. He sniffed slowly and dips his head at her level.

"Did you smell that?"

He whispered in her hair and she frowned.

"What?"

"It smells... I don't know... bad. Something is off. Like Sulphur." Kirti frowned and shook her head.

"I don't sense anything odd."

"But the smell is strong for even human nostrils!" he exclaimed when his mother's hand landed on his elbow.

"Yagya, what are you doing? Everyone's watching. Tie the mangal sutra around her neck. The auspicious time is slipping from our hands." He nodded at Vasundhara before tying the sacred thread made of black beads and diamonds around Kirti's neck. People clapped and rained flowers on them. Next came the tradition of filling the partition of bride's hair with vermillion.

When Yagya filled vermillion on Gauri's forehead, Vasundhara smiled. Joy wrestles with emptiness. Her wish of watching her son get married got fulfilled.

"I request the elders to come forward and bless the husband and wife."

The jolly priest punctuated their marital status and Yagya's jaw clenched. His fists tightened at his sides and sparing an annoyed glance in his mother's direction, he bows to first take the blessing of God Mahadeva, then touches the feet of Priest Damodaran. Gauri followed his lead. The couple then took blessings from Raghuveer and Vasundhara. Vasundhara wipes a lone tear kissing her cheek before people could notice and passed a welcoming smile. Gauri immediately bends to touch her feet.

"I wish you all the happiness in the world and may you strive as a married woman."

Rukmani was already shedding tears, her heart twisting painfully at the thought of leaving her daughter behind.

Gauri then went to her grandma and hugged her tight. The notion of being someone's wife sends nervous jitters down her spine. New emotions overwhelmed her and a sob erupted from her chest.

"No, my dear. It is time to be happy. I am so proud of you. You did well. May the Lord of the Universe give you the strength to slay all demons and provide courage to walk on the righteous path. Hopefully, you will learn to respect each other." Sumitra Devi muttered under her breath when they touched her feet and she caressed their head.

Kishan and Rukmani came next to convey their love and blessings.

How can one explain the inner struggle of a drowning girl? Her last attempt of kicking her limbs with fear raging in her mind. The way she opens her mouth to scream for help, knowing well the hope has died long ago and there's no being around to sweep her away. Her body helplessly sinking in the endless depths of the sea, the water entering her mouth and traveling down to her lungs, slowly stealing the power to bellow and breath.

She felt the same when her mother sobbed on her shoulder. Rukmani's arms tightly wound around her daughter.

"Why the tears, mother? You must be happy now as no neighbor would complain about my endeavors. Your troublesome lass wouldn't be around to commit mischiefs." Gauri weakly whispered as fat tears fell from her eyes. Sumitra smiled through misty vision and supported her equally emotional son who was constantly wiping his eyes. Rukmani instantly smacks her daughter on the shoulder and looks at her mother-in-law accusingly.

"This girl! When have I ever scolded her, amma? The band of those little hooligans and she always tested my patience, yet I kept my conscience intact and dealt with each disaster accordingly. My silly girl, all those times, I was simply annoyed at the way people thought you should behave your age. In my eyes, you were the same little girl who loved to run around our little house to hear the melodious music of your anklets. I will miss you terribly. There wouldn't be a day when you wouldn't cross any of our minds. Now, who would fetch water from the river, or feed the cattle? Who would help me prepare the meal or massage amma's aching joints? Those children would be so lonely. Who will tell them the tales? Who will make beautiful rangolis or decorate our little temple for morning and evening prayers?"

Sumitra pulled Rukmani in an embrace and patted her head.

"You both fought every day, now see Rukmani, who's crying the most. Daughters are precious jewels. The soul of a home. In their absence, the house turns barren." The head of the small family whispered and the mother nodded in between hiccups. Kishan hugs his dearest next.

"Listen, pumpkin. I collected some money to buy a phone and took the Palace's landline and the priest's number. After reaching Shivpuri, we'll call you every day. The queen is a kind lady and she already adores you. You'll be loved and respected here. And if anyone troubles you, call your baba immediately. It wouldn't matter if it'd be night or day, I'll be here as soon as possible to take you back, alright? You might be leaving your childhood home behind, but those gates will always remain open. Those small huts and open skies are yours. I am always here for you, dear, and am so proud of you."

Gauri nodded reverently and tried to smile. But it was difficult when her father's shoulders shook with each sob in his throat. She never saw him breaking like this. The man never lost his cool in the harshest circumstances. There were times when they'd to sleep on an empty stomach but he never lost hope. He fought harder. It was shocking to see him shedding tears. Kishan loves Gauri the most and the thought of not watching her beautiful face every morning pierced like a dagger in his chest. The alien heaviness wasn't leaving him.

"I love you, baba."

And if possible, he wept more. The sweet voice that used to wake him and fill his bones with hope wouldn't ring in the household anymore. The apple of his eyes was now going to become the rose of someone else's garden. He wished he had a son instead. Giving your daughter away is the toughest possible thing in nature, more lethal than giving birth to a child. She wasn't going alone but taking all their hearts with her.

"Here, here. No more tears, my moonlight. This is an age-old tradition for a daughter to leave her father's house and make a family of her own, fill the lives of others with happiness with good deeds. Stop making my baby cry. Gauri, hold yourself together." Sumitra caressed her face and wiped those tears. Her heart was drenched. "No matter what they ask or demand from you, never change. Remember, before being the bride of this fort and our daughter, you are your person. Do things you like. Follow your dreams. Don't stop telling those tales, butterfly. Spread your aura in this lonely castle. Respect your elders and take care of them. After 3 days, you will come back to Shivpuri with your husband for the Pagphera ceremony. We will talk then."

The old woman kissed her forehead and chanted God's name, and started walking toward the awaiting vehicle which was scheduled to transport them back to the village. Kishan and Rukmani joined their hands in front of Vasundhara, who returned the gesture with a soft smile.

"Your highness, please look out for her, she is naïve. If our people or we have offended you unknowingly I apologize for that."

"Do not worry, Kishan ji, Gauri is my daughter starting today and this is her house. She wouldn't lack anything."

Rukmani smiled in relief and kissed Gauri's cheek before letting her husband guide her towards the car, from where Sumitra was smiling at them.

"Bye, Gauri. Stay safe."

"Now what, mother? I thought the wedding was over."

Yagya grumbled as Vasundhara drags him towards the entrance of the Rajwada Palace.

"How dare you enter the home before your bride? You've embarrassed me enough in front of her. The poor girl is still waiting at the doorstep with other guests. This is the last ceremony for today, I promise. Just be polite and hold her hand as you two-step together inside. Where is your sword?" A panicked Vasundhara demanded. The auspicious time for the bride's Griha Pravesh was running out.

"It is with me."

"Good." She nodded and left his hand when they reached the grand hallway where musicians were busy blowing trumpets and beating drums. Yagya winced at the loud sound and begged for patience. 'It will pass.' The tired man chanted for the thousandth time and wore a neutral expression as he marches towards the awaiting audience. His wife's face was still hidden under the heavy veil and somehow this irked him. Ignoring the giggling girls, he stood at her right and waited for his mother, who was making the arrangements for the ceremony. In the meantime, he noticed how the girl reached his shoulder. She was a little thing compared to him but taller than the other girls. Her long fingers were interlinked at the front as she nervously waited for the next task. Fear oozed from her pores. He noted before glaring at her squared shoulders, reflecting a brave façade.

She should be scared because this life was far from a fairytale. They might seem obnoxiously rich individuals clad in finest garments and jewels, but from inside, they were all hollow, fighting their demons and gasping to survive each day.

Soon, Vasundhara emerged holding a golden platter with various religious articles and a lightened Diya (lamp). Pulling the free end of her saree on her head, she smiles and puts tilak on both their forehead and asks Gauri to gently tilt the silver pot laden with rice grains on the threshold. The music turns more celebratory when Gauri does it and puts her hand in Yagya's awaiting palm. Something went off inside her ears and warmth bubbled in her belly. Her shoulders rebelled to curl in a show of submission as he slowly pulls her inside. She stands on a big silver platter filled with Alta (red dye) and walks into the home with him leaving behind auspicious red footprints which symbolize the arrival of Goddess Lakshmi- the deity of wealth and prosperity.

"Now, it is time for a test, daughter-in-law. Brace yourself. Only those with a steady mindset can pass it."

Vasundhara announced for everyone to hear and Yagya felt Gauri tensing beside him.

"Do you see these seven platters laid in your way? Using his sword, the king will push them towards you, and one by one you have to lift them. But here's the catch, no sound should be made."

The guests laughed sensing the humor in Vasundhara's tone.

"If you failed, it will make an impression that my new daughter has a bit of temper and she may bring chaos in the house."

The elderly in the group of onlookers whisper to one another and hum.

"What nonsense?"

Yagya blurted under his breath and Vasundhara's eyes shined with mirth.

"Come on, son. Initiate the ceremony."

The groom sighs inwardly. This is getting ridiculous with each passing moment. With the sheathed sword, he pushes the first platter towards his bride. Gauri immediately bends to pick it up. Her bangles and gold ornaments make a sound. All the ladies watched with bated breath. A young maid in the crowd comes forward and holds the heavy skirt of the bride to assist her in the process. Yagya pushes another platter and biting her lower lips in concentration, Gauri puts the first platter in it, as gently as possible and lifts the two together. Not a single sound was perceived other than the melody of heavy trinkets adorning her figure. She repeated the process until the last platter was lifted and everybody clapped in joy. Her hands were steady despite the thundering insides. Her heart was in her throat all the time. God knows how she passed the test.

Ambika immediately takes the heavy platter from her hands and Vasundhara hugs her.

"You may leave now, son."

Taking a relieved breath, Yagyavardhan left and made his way toward his study. During the short journey, the scenario of Kirti dropping all the heavy platters in the end played in his mind.