The night air was thick with the scent of jasmine and spices, swirling around Gayatri as she tried to shake off the chill that Meera's words had instilled. Rivay’s hand was warm on her back, and the gentle pressure of his palm seemed to ground her amidst the lingering uncertainties.

“Let’s get some fresh air,” Rivay suggested, sensing her unease. He led her away from the bustling hall, guiding her through the garden illuminated by twinkling fairy lights. The soft rustle of leaves and the distant sound of laughter faded, leaving a serene hush that enveloped them.