Zaniya stood before the tall mirror in her room, draping the final pleats of her saree. The soft fabric clung gracefully to her frame, accentuating her elegance. She was not Indian by birth, yet she adored the richness of Indian tradition. The deep maroon saree, embroidered with golden threads, made her look divine—every bit the queen of the Singhal mansion.
As she adjusted her earrings, she felt a sudden pair of strong arms snake around her waist from behind. The unexpected embrace made her heart jolt. She looked at the reflection in the mirror and smiled faintly.
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