The lingering heat of Vedant’s touch still seemed to hum against her skin as Kritika stepped back into the bedroom, freshly showered and clear-headed. After the absolute deluge her heavy pink Banarasi had suffered, the crisp sensation of clean fabric was a relief.

She had chosen a long Anarkali suit in a rich, warm shade of orange. It wasn’t the loud, glittering type of attire reserved for heavy festive nights, but it was far from simple or casual either. Kritika was well aware of her new reality: she was the new bride of the grand Rana household. At any given moment, distant relatives or high-society acquaintances could stop by the mansion to meet her, and it would not look good if she were caught lounging in everyday casual clothes.