The Rathore palace shimmered under the afternoon sun, its sandstone walls glowing with history and pride.
Inside the grand durbar hall, the royal family sat gathered around a carved teakwood table, draped with ivory silks and fresh marigolds.
"Rajveer's wedding must be nothing short of magnificent," declared the queen mother, her tone firm but affectionate.
"The Rathore's have a legacy to uphold. Every guest must remember this celebration for years to come."
Anirudh leaned back in his chair, silent. His younger brother's upcoming marriage meant endless discussions — themes, guest lists, venues. He wasn't one for frivolous details, but the weight of the family name rested heavily on his shoulders, and he was not a man who allowed imperfection in anything that bore the Rathore mark.
"We should contact an event company," Rajveer suggested cautiously. "Someone modern, but… capable of handling tradition as well."
Anirudh's eyes narrowed, assessing. "Capable?" His voice was a low rumble.
"I don't want capable, Rajveer. I want flawless. Whoever takes this responsibility will not be allowed a single mistake. Not one."
The elders nodded, accustomed to his uncompromising standards. A list of companies was brought forth by an aide, names scribbled across cream parchment. Anirudh flipped through them lazily, until one caught his attention. "Elysian Events," he read aloud, the name rolling off his tongue. His eyes lingered. "I've heard their planner has a reputation… precise. Creative." His lips curved, not in amusement but in calculation.
"We'll summon them."
Orders were given swiftly. Within hours, a call was placed to Ishika's company — the very heart of her world. She was chosen not by chance, but by inevitability.
For Ishika, it would be project — demanding, prestigious, perfect for her portfolio