Avni
đź“Ť Royal palace
Lucknow, India
The soft rustle of footsteps on the staircase interrupted my thoughts. I turned to see Ritvika descending the stairs, her long, usually perfectly styled hair slightly tousled and her face pale, clearly reflecting the hangover from the previous night's wild celebration.
The aftermath of too many glasses of wine, no doubt. Her eyes, puffy and red, squinted against the sunlight that filtered through the grand windows of the palace. She was moving slower than usual, each step more deliberate, as though she feared the ground beneath her feet might sway any second.
She looked... well, terrible.
I couldn't help but stifle a small smile.
Last night had been one for the books. Everyone, including Ritvika and Atharv, had stayed at the palace after the party because none of us were in any condition to go home. Drinks had flowed freely, and laughter had filled the air until the early hours of the morning.
I remember the light-headed feeling of joy mixed with the warmth of companionship, but today was another story.
She finally made it to the dining area, where Aksh Bhai, Ashwin, Rudra, and I were already seated. The smell of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air, mingling with the aroma of buttered toast and spiced parathas. Ritvika dragged herself toward the table, pulling a chair out with exaggerated effort before plopping down, resting her head on her palm.
"Morning," I called out with a smirk, unable to hide my amusement at her condition. "Rough night?"
Ritvika rolled her eyes, slumping into the chair more. "You have no idea, Avni. The room is still spinning."
Aksh Bhai chuckled, sipping his coffee. "Maybe next time, don't challenge Atharv to a drinking contest."
"Noted," she replied dryly before turning her attention to Ashwin, who sat across from her.
A spark of recognition lit up her tired eyes, and she straightened up, as much as her hangover allowed.
"Ashwin Rana? You're back?" she said in her old, familiar sassy tone, raising an eyebrow. "How did I miss the grand return?"
Ashwin, always so calm and composed, smiled warmly. "You were probably too busy downing those shots."
"Touché," Ritvika quipped, reaching for a glass of water. "Welcome back, old man."
We all shared a light laugh at that, the easy camaraderie between us growing as we settled into the morning. Ashwin had always been a part of this family, even though he had left some years ago. His absence had been a topic of quiet conversations and concern, especially for me.
He had been like an older brother, a trusted friend to our family, and seeing him back here felt like a missing piece falling into place. Still, I couldn't shake the curiosity about why he had left his job, what exactly his mysterious dream job had been, and why he had never shared it with us.
Ritvika was still trying to shake off her hangover, but she managed a few more light-hearted jabs at Ashwin. Aksh Bhai joined in, teasing Ashwin about leaving us for "better things." Ashwin explained that he was taking a break from work and wanted to spend some time here with us. After all, this family had become his home, and he had nowhere else to go.
Just as the conversation was gaining momentum, Atharv and Ishani came down the stairs, looking far too fresh for people who had indulged as heavily as the rest of us last night. Atharv's sharp suit and Ishani's polished appearance were a stark contrast to Ritvika's hungover state. They greeted us with cheery good mornings, and I caught Ritvika shooting her brother a death glare as he laughed at her disheveled look.
Atharv gave Ritvika a pointed look, clearly amused by her state. "And here I thought you'd be the last one standing."
"Don't start," Ritvika muttered, shooting him a warning glare.
"Some of us are trying to recover from last night," she muttered, rolling her eyes.
"Maybe if you knew when to stop," Atharv quipped, earning himself a half-hearted slap on the arm from Ritvika.
Suddenly, the room shifted as my mother entered. Her very presence radiated authority and grace, the kind that came naturally to the queen of Lucknow. Her saree was immaculate, the gold embroidery gleaming in the morning light, and her posture straight as an arrow. It was always fascinating to see how she commanded the space, even without saying a word.
"The guests will be here soon," she announced, her voice calm but filled with the weight of her position.
"Guests?" I asked, though I already had a suspicion about who might be coming. Her words from last night about someone important arriving still lingered in my mind.
Aksh Bhai was quick to jump in with his teasing. "Don't worry, Ma. I'm sure they'll be dazzled by your charm and grace, as always."
Mother gave him a sharp look, but there was a hint of amusement behind it. Before she could reply, her phone rang. A brief conversation later, she hung up and turned to us with a sense of urgency.
"They've arrived."
Without another word, she swiftly made her way toward the palace entrance, her saree flowing behind her. The rest of us followed, curiosity piqued by the anticipation in her voice. As we reached the grand entrance, my mother moved with practiced grace, lighting a small diya for the aarti as the guests approached.
We all followed in her wake, curiosity piqued. As we neared the grand front doors, I could see her standing just outside, waiting with a small silver tray for the aarti. The anticipation in the air was palpable.
Moments later, a car pulled up, Three figures stepped out of the car-a distinguished man with silver hair, another who looked to be his younger brother, and their driver holding a large, beautifully wrapped gift. As they came into view, I recognized the older man immediately. Ritvika's father, Mr. Roy, with his quiet authority and warm smile. I glanced at Ritvika, whose face had regained some of its color, but the slight hangover haze was still visible.
Mr. Roy raised a single eyebrow when he saw her, the corners of his mouth lifting in amusement. He said nothing, though, clearly aware of what had transpired the previous night.
It was likely Ritvika had already informed him-her father was not the strict type, quite the opposite in fact. He had always been more laid-back, especially for an Indian parent. There was no scolding in his gaze, just fond indulgence.
My mother performed the aarti with graceful movements, her face glowing with the pride of hosting such esteemed guests. After the rituals were done, we all filed back inside, welcoming the guests into the palace. The atmosphere was lighter, filled with laughter and friendly conversation.
"Welcome, Mr. Roy," my mother greeted, her voice warm as she performed the aarti, the flames flickering between them.
As we stepped aside to let them in, everyone greeted the guests warmly. The air filled with pleasantries and the sound of footsteps echoing through the palace halls.
As we settled back into the living area, Ritvika's father explained the purpose of their visit.
"We're here to extend a formal invitation," he began, his eyes sparkling. "Ritvika's cousin, my brother's daughter, is getting married. And we would be honored if the royal family of Lucknow would join us in the celebrations."
The room was filled with congratulations and warm wishes as the invitation was handed to my mother. She accepted it graciously, already beginning to ask about the details of the wedding.
As the conversation flowed around me, my mind wandered for a moment. So these were the guests Mother had spoken about. But why had it felt like there was something more to their arrival? Something that lingered just out of reach, waiting to be revealed?
I couldn't shake the feeling that beneath the surface of these seemingly ordinary events, something far more significant was brewing.
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