Hiyy pumpkin! 🎃 How are you?
Get ready to dive into some drama, romance, and chaos—you know, the Rathoure and Sharma way! 😎 Brace yourself for twists, laughter, and a little bit of 'oh no they didn't!' moments.

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Rathoure Wedding Day – Cinematic Author & Myra POV

The Rathoure mansion had transformed into a fairy-tale palace. Every hallway shimmered with golden marigolds, jasmine garlands swayed gently, and the faint scent of incense and fresh flowers filled the air. Crystal chandeliers reflected thousands of tiny points of light, fairy lights twinkled along staircases, and the mandap, at the heart of the courtyard, stood resplendent in ivory and gold silk with delicate floral arrangements cascading from above. The soft hum of classical music mingled with the distant chatter of family members and guests, creating a magical symphony of celebration.

Abhimanyu waited at the mandap, regal in his ivory sherwani adorned with gold embroidery and a subtle pearl necklace. His eyes sparkled with joy and nervous excitement, a rare softness in his usually commanding demeanor. Beside him, the Rathoure sons stood like pillars of strength and elegance, their sherwanis reflecting their personalities—Eshan in deep maroon with gold thread, Aayan in royal blue with silver embroidery, Zayan in emerald green with intricate detailing, Rudra in sleek charcoal gray, and Kabir in vibrant sapphire with gold accents.

Myra stepped out, her lehenga a vision of elegance and grace. Ivory and gold shimmered under the sunlight, delicate floral embroidery catching the light with each movement. A soft dupatta framed her face, traditional jewelry glinting as she walked, every step measured, yet full of heart and confidence.

Trailing her was Kiyra, Innaya's playful cousin, holding Myra's lehenga and whispering jokes. The boys' eyes darted between Myra and the little girl, confusion and curiosity painted across their faces.

Eshan muttered, "Wait... is that her daughter?"

Kabir chuckled, "She's way too confident with everyone. Myra's kid? Or just trouble in disguise?"

Zayan smirked, "Bold and fearless... not bad."

The wedding rituals unfolded beautifully. The aroma of incense mingled with flowers, and the soft chants of the pandit created an ethereal atmosphere. Myra moved gracefully, performing each ritual alongside Abhimanyu, her heart swelling as their hands met over the sacred fire.

When the pandit asked her to call her family for blessings, Myra smiled gently. "I have a daughter, but she is not present today. This ritual is being performed by my dear friends Karan and Siya," she explained.

The Rathoure sons froze momentarily, then burst into quiet laughter and relief. Eshan muttered, "Thank God... Kiyra isn't her daughter!" Kabir added, "Finally! I didn't want her meddling with this family!" Zayan chuckled, shaking his head, "Much better. Crisis averted."

Kiyra, unaware of the misunderstanding, continued giggling and whispering jokes, occasionally waving at the sons who tried to hide their amusement. Her playful antics added charm and liveliness to the ceremony.

The Celebration and Mansion Atmosphere

After the rituals, the mansion buzzed with energy. Guests roamed the halls, admiring the elaborate decorations—crystal chandeliers, ornate floral arrangements, gold and cream drapes, and sparkling lights that made the grand hall feel like a palace. Traditional music played softly in the background, while laughter and congratulations echoed across the rooms.

The newlyweds returned to the mansion, tired but elated. They rested briefly, allowing the adrenaline and emotions of the day to settle. The Rathoure sons, still chuckling over Kiyra's antics, made quiet jokes, teasing each other and whispering about how much "chaos" the little cousin brought to the celebration.

Next Morning – Myra's First Rasoie

The morning sun filtered through the tall windows, casting warm, golden light across the polished floors. The mansion was quiet, save for the distant sounds of servants preparing breakfast. Myra entered the kitchen for her first rasoieeee, her heart brimming with pride and focus.

She wore a cream kurta with delicate gold embroidery and matching churidar, her hair loosely tied back, allowing her earrings to glint in the morning sun. She chopped vegetables, ground spices, and stirred pots with calm precision, her movements graceful and infused with love.

The Rathoure sons peeked curiously from the doorway. Eshan raised an eyebrow, smiling approvingly. "Not bad, stepmom."

Aayan, analytical as ever, nodded quietly, impressed. Zayan leaned casually, muttering, "She's got style and skill... Rathoure-approved."

Rudra's stoic gaze softened as he observed her, and Kabir grinned mischievously, "Step one: survive the mansion. Step two: cook amazing food. She's halfway there."

Even Kiyra peeked around the corner, offering playful comments and giggles, adding charm and liveliness to the scene. Myra's smile grew, realizing that these small moments—the aromas, the laughter, the subtle bonding—were the heart of family life.

For Myra, this rasoie wasn't just cooking—it was a symbol of her place in the Rathoure household, the start of her new life, and the quiet weaving of love, respect, and connection with her new family. The mansion, still echoing with wedding celebrations, now hummed with gentle domestic rhythm, a perfect beginning to the next chapter of the Rathoure legacy.

Wedding Evening – Innaya's Arrival Plans

The mandap had been cleared, the ceremonial rituals complete, and the Rathoure family slowly returned to the mansion. The golden glow of evening filtered through the tall windows, and soft music played in the background. Myra sat beside Abhimanyu, sipping a glass of rose-flavored sherbet, her heart still fluttering from the morning's events and the little victories of the day.

Abhimanyu leaned closer, his voice soft but curious. "Myra... when will Innaya arrive?"

The Rathoure sons, who had been chatting quietly in a corner, froze mid-conversation. Eshan, Aayan, Zayan, Rudra, and Kabir all leaned in, catching every word, their curiosity piqued.

Myra smiled, a calm confidence in her eyes. "She will come today. Her flight lands at 6 pm. Don't worry—she'll be here."

A hush fell for a moment, then Vikram, always observant and thoughtful, tilted his head. "Wait... how does she manage living in London all alone? She's so young, so independent..." His voice carried admiration. "She must be brilliant... brave, and responsible. Not everyone could do that."

Abhimanyu nodded, a proud smile spreading across his face. "Exactly why I trust her judgment. And Eshan," he continued, his eyes meeting his eldest son's, "you'll go pick her up at the airport. Flight lands at 6 pm. Make sure she's comfortable and taken care of."

Eshan straightened immediately, pride and duty reflected in his posture. "Yes, Dad. I'll be there on time," he replied, his usual mischievous grin softened by responsibility.

The rest of the brothers exchanged looks, a mixture of amusement and respect crossing their faces. Each one silently noted how Innaya had already begun to occupy their thoughts—even without stepping into the mansion yet. Myra's gentle reassurance had created a ripple of trust and admiration; everyone was quietly rooting for her and her new stepdaughter to bond.

Myra, feeling the weight of the moment, rested her hand lightly on Abhimanyu's arm. Inside, she was a bundle of excitement and nerves, imagining Innaya's arrival, her first steps into the mansion, and the new chapter that was about to begin for their intertwined families.

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