As he approached, he cast a lingering gaze over me, a captivating look. Meanwhile, I found myself fawning over him, struggling to find the right words.
Rudra's intense gaze softened into a warm smile as he approached. "You look absolutely.. heart-st...
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"Roohi!" Rajmata called out, prompting me to turn and face her. "Ji," I responded, walking toward her.
"Today at the reception, there'll be a huge crowd. You need to stand strong and assert your power for people to respect you," Rajmata advised, making me nod hesitantly.
"Is your outfit ready?" she asked softly, and I nodded in affirmation. Saana had it figured out, I hope so.
"Go get ready!" she instructed, pushing me towards my room, and I walked away feeling somewhat zoned out, as if I had lost awareness of my own presence.
Unconsciously, fear crept in. I didn't want to face my family tonight. I noticed a few missed calls from Bhai and Mom, but I chose not to answer.
As I strolled towards my room, I caught a curious sight – our house help standing guard at the bedroom doorway, accompanied by a stylish gentleman donning a chic turtleneck.
He knows how to dress! The black turtle neck sits well with the cream slacks.
"Khamma Ghani Bai-sa," the elderly lady greeted, and I reciprocated the warm gesture.
"Saana bai-sa ne inhe bheja hai," she informed, and I nodded, casting a friendly smile at the guy who seemed to be grinning like a Cheshire cat.
"Hello, I'm Roohi Rudra Rajvansh," I introduced myself, extending my hand.
"Your highness!" he exclaimed dramatically, catching me off guard as he took my hand.
"I'm KJ, I'll help you with your outfit!" he declared with enthusiasm.
Arrey yeh toh apna Karan Johar hai! (Oh, this has to be our very own Karan Johar!)
"Hello KJ, nice to meet you," I grinned as we both stepped into the room.
"So, Mrs. Rajvansh, what are we thinking? Saana Ma'am said it's the reception. I say, let's go with a heavy lehenga," he suggested, and I simply nodded along.
"Sure, KJ," I replied, and he clapped his hands. Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing about five people entering with trays of accessories, and a trolley laden with dresses hanging in anticipation.
"Also, are those slightly wavy curls of yours natural?" he inquired, his hands reaching out to brush through my hair.
"Yeah," I responded, and he practically shrieked with excitement.
