The afternoon light is filtered through the elegant living room, casting soft shadows on the polished wooden floor. The Rajput household breathed with a quiet intensity-tradition hanging in the air like an invisible tapestry.

Vanya sat perfectly still, her usual confidence replaced by a subtle nervousness that made her fingers twist together. Across from her, her mother Devyani perched on the edge of an antique sofa, sharp eyes studying her daughter. Mahendra Singh Rajput-her father-leaned back in his armchair, a study in controlled composure. And Dadi, the family matriarch, watched from her favorite swing, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth.