32. CAUGHT IN THE MOMENT
VEERAJ
The palace lawn glows under hundreds of warm fairy lights.
Silk canopies sway gently in the evening breeze, music drifts through the gardens, and laughter rises from every corner as guests mingle around beautifully decorated tables. It feels like the entire kingdom has gathered to celebrate Aadhya's second birthday.
But my mind isn't here.
It is still somewhere around three this morning.
No matter how many conversations happen around me, all I can think about is the way Diya slept against my chest after her nightmare.
I can still remember the weight of her in my arms, the way her fingers clung to my shirt, and how her breathing slowly calmed after she trusted me with the darkest part of her childhood.
Holding her didn't feel like responsibility.
It didn't feel like duty. It simply felt . . . right.
I stand near one of the marble pillars with a glass of club soda in my hand, absentmindedly watching the crowd.
Then I find her. I don't even realize I'm looking for her. My eyes simply do. She's standing across the lawn, and for a second, everything else fades into the background.
She's wearing a deep royal blue Chanderi silk saree that catches the warm glow of the fairy lights every time she moves. Her blouse leaves her arms and collarbone uncovered, the pale patches of vitiligo glowing softly beneath the lights instead of hiding in the shadows.
She isn't trying to cover them anymore.
She isn't shrinking herself.
She's simply . . . herself.
And I don't think I've ever seen anyone more beautiful.
Aadhya lets out a delighted squeal, and Diya laughs before sitting directly on the grass beside her, completely unconcerned about her expensive saree. Within seconds she's surrounded by children, helping them chase balloons that keep escaping into the air.
Her laughter carries across the lawn. Bright. Free. Real.
A warmth settles somewhere deep inside my chest as I watch her gently tap a yellow balloon against Aadhya's nose, making my niece dissolve into another fit of giggles.
Ever since Diya entered this house, something has changed. The palace hasn't become quieter. It's become warmer. For me at least.
"You're going to burn a hole through her saree if you keep staring like that." Vihaan's amused voice pulls me back.
He bumps my shoulder lightly before taking a sip from his drink.
I don't bother looking at him. "I'm making sure she doesn't teach Aadhya how to organize another clay attack."
Vihaan laughs. "You know, she's your wife now, you can simply go and talk to her."
"Go and bother Poorvi, Vihaan." He pats my shoulder once before disappearing into the crowd, looking far too pleased with himself. I sigh quietly before walking across the lawn.
Guests step aside as I make my way toward the children's corner.
Diya notices my shadow before she notices me. She looks up, brushes a blade of grass from her saree, and gets to her feet.
"Well," she says, folding her arms, "look who finally escaped the royal networking committee." She smirks, "I was beginning to think they stationed you beside the pillars permanently."
I stop in front of her. "Someone has to supervise you."
She raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"You've managed to destroy the balloon arrangement in less than ten minutes." She looks behind her before turning back to me.
"It's a birthday party, Veeraj. Not a military parade."
"It was a perfectly good arrangement."
"It was boring."
"It was organized."
"It lacked personality."
I look at her. She looks back without even trying to hide her grin. She's right though, if she wished to she could give personality to everything around her.
Her attention shifts somewhere over my shoulder. I follow her gaze.
A few feet away, Devraj bhai sa gently adjusts Meher bhabhi sa's dupatta after the wind slips it from her shoulder. She smiles at him, and he quietly brushes a loose strand of hair away from her face before they walk toward the guests together. Neither of them seems aware that anyone is watching.
Diya reaches into the little embroidered pouch hanging from her wrist and pulls out her phone. She quietly lifts it.
Click. Another click.
I glance sideways at her. "What are you doing?"
She doesn't lower the phone. "I'm taking pictures."
"Bhai sa hired professional photographers."
"I know."
"Then why?"
She smiles softly without taking her eyes off the screen. "They'll capture the posed photographs. They'll get everyone looking at the camera." She lowers the phone slightly. "But moments like this . . . " She looks toward Devraj bhai sa and Meher bhabhi sa again. " . . . they'll probably miss."
Her smile grows gentler. "I like photographing people when they don't know anyone is watching. They look the most beautiful then."
Something inside me shifts. Before I even think about it, I pull my own phone from my pocket.
I don't point it toward my brother. I point it at her.
The golden lights catch in her hair. Her eyes are fixed on the couple in front of us.
She's smiling without realizing it. There's something so open about her expression that I don't want the moment to disappear.
I press the shutter.
Click.
She freezes. Slowly, she turns toward me. Her eyes widening. " . . . Did you just take a picture of me?"
I glance down at the screen for a second before saving it. Then I slide my phone back into my pocket.
"Yes."
She blinks. "Why?" Her voice is much quieter now. She's clutching the little silk pouch so tightly her fingers wrinkle the fabric.
I step just a little closer. Not enough to overwhelm her. Just enough that the noise of the party fades into the background.
I meet her eyes.."Because . . . " My voice comes out lower than I expect. " . . . you look beautiful tonight, Diya."
She forgets to breathe. The colour slowly rises across her cheeks before spreading all the way to her ears.
For once . . . She doesn't have a clever reply.
She just looks at me. Completely flustered. Completely speechless.
I let myself look at her for one more quiet second before offering her my arm.
"Come on. The birthday girl is probably wondering where her favourite person has disappeared to."
She glances at my arm. Then back at me. A small smile appears on her face before she slips her hand through it.
Together, we walk back toward our family. And for the first time in a very long time . . . I don't mind everyone watching.