The city lights of Jaipur shimmered below like fallen stars as the night sky wrapped the Malhotra estate in soft, velvet silence. The garden had been lit with fairy lights, their golden glow bathing the marble fountains and stone paths in a dreamy haze. And in the middle of it all stood Anaya—dressed in a soft lavender saree, hair braided with tiny jasmine flowers, eyes searching.

She had been told there was a dinner. Something "important," the staff had whispered with knowing smiles.