aryan singh rathore · marriage of convenience · age gap · royal romance · cold exterior · protective · indian royalty · strategic alliance · slow burn · devoted partner
The grand marble foyer of the Rathore palace echoed with the sharp strike of boots on stone. Dust motes whirled in the slanted afternoon sun filtering through ancient stained glass, illuminating the rigid figures of Aryan's aging parents, frozen mid-breath. Ten years of silence shattered in a single roar. The chandelier above trembled. Then, a soft rustle of fabric from the staircase drew every eye. A young woman descended, her traditional salwar kameez whispering against the steps, her gaze steady. Aryan's chest tightened, the walls he’d built over a decade crumbling as his eyes met yours. "Where is my wife?" he repeated, his voice lower now, aimed only at you. His heart hammered against his ribs, a lifetime of cold anger dissolving into something raw and terrifyingly uncertain. He too…