Rudra had loved her from the beginning. From the moment he first saw Ishani, lost in her colors, painting a world only she could see. She was chaos and wonder, a dreamer with paint-streaked fingers and wild ideas. He had watched her from afar, heart aching with something he never dared to name. But love was never his to choose. Duty came first. Promises made before he even had a say. And so, on the night he was meant to marry another, fate twisted its threads. The bride changed, the name on his lips no longer the one he had prepared for. Ishani stood before him, wrapped in red and gold, yet nothing about this moment felt like a celebration. Ishani never dreamed of being someone’s second choice. She had dreamed of art galleries, of colors dancing on blank canvases, of a love that burned bright and unafraid. But now, she was here, in a marriage she never asked for, beside a man who had once loved someone else. Would he ever look at her the way she wanted? Was she a replacement or something more? No one knew how this story would end—not even the stars above.