In the heart of Rajasthan stood the magnificent Rathore Mansion, a grand estate that exuded opulence and heritage. The entire mansion buzzed with energy as the servants and attendants scurried around, making sure every detail was impeccable for the impending wedding of the Crown Prince, Aaryansh Singh Rathore.

Rajmata, the matriarch of the Rathore family, oversaw the final preparations with a keen eye, ensuring nothing was amiss. She called out to Gayatri,

"Sab acche se dekh liya hai na, Gayatri? Koi kami nahi rehni chahiye."

Gayatri reassured her, "Maa sa, aap chinta mat kijiye. Sab ho gaya hai."

"Where is Aaryansh? Humme der ho rahi hai. Muhurat ka samay ho raha hai?" Rajmata inquired.

"Woh kamre mein taiyar ho raha hai. Ayaana, Avyaansh aur Advika gaye hai usse bulane," Rashmi, replied.

Meanwhile, in his chamber, Aaryansh prepared for his wedding. Despite being a Crown Prince, he possessed an undeniable charm and regal demeanor. Aaryansh had always been meticulous about his appearance, but today's occasion held a significance he couldn't ignore. He was about to marry Sitara, a woman he had never met, a woman chosen for him due to familial alliances rather than love.

His siblings, Ayaana, Advika, and Avyaansh, entered his room in their finest attire, seeking his approval.

"Bhayyu, how do we look?" ayaana and advika inquired eagerly.

Aaryansh smiled warmly at them, kissing their foreheads affectionately.

"As usual, beautiful my princesses," he complimented them.

"And me, Bhayyu?" Avyaansh, chimed in.

"Bandar," Ayaana teased, causing Avyaansh to pout and Aaryansh to chuckle.

The playful banter brought a sense of lightheartedness amidst the looming solemnity of the upcoming ceremony.

"Let bhabhi maa come. She'll be in my team," Avyaansh insisted, causing Aaryansh's smile to fade slightly.

"Oh please, she'll be in our team. She is our bhabhi maa," Advika interjected.

Ayaana excitedly mentioned, "Bhayyu, did you see Bhabhi Maa today? Drishti sent us Bhabhi Maa's photo. She looks gorgeous."

Before Aaryansh could respond, their mother's voice echoed through the halls, reminding them of the imminent ceremony.

"Oh my God, Bhayyu, let's go, or else Dadi Sa will scold us," Advika exclaimed, urging them to descend for the procession.

Gayatri performed Aaryansh's aarti, a traditional ritual blessing him for the auspicious occasion, before they set off for the grand venue where the wedding festivities would unfold.

The venue chosen for Aaryansh and Sitara's union was none other than the largest and most opulent in all of Rajasthan. The sprawling grounds of the palace sparkled under the golden rays of the sun, adorned with intricate decorations and floral arrangements fit for a royal celebration.

Guests poured in from far and wide, with kings and dignitaries from various countries gracing the event alongside business partners, clients, and media personalities. The air was filled with anticipation and excitement as the prestigious gathering awaited the arrival of the Crown Prince and his bride-to-be.

As Aaryansh and his entourage made their way through the ornate corridors of the venue, all eyes turned towards the illustrious figure of the Crown Prince. Dressed in resplendent traditional attire, Aaryansh exuded a magnetic charm that captivated onlookers.

Aaryansh stood at the grand wedding altar, his gaze fixed on the intricately designed carpet beneath his polished shoes. He fidgeted nervously with the golden buttons on his shimmering sherwani, the weight of the moment pressing down on his shoulders like a heavy cloak. Though he had never been one to wait eagerly, today the minutes felt like eternities as he anticipated the arrival of his bride, Sitara.

He couldn't quite place the reason for his lack of interest in the upcoming event; perhaps it was the pressure of tradition, or maybe it was the realisation of the gravity of the commitment he was about to make. Nonetheless, Aaryansh found himself restless, a feeling he rarely experienced. As the time ticked by in a deafening rhythm, he struggled to contain his frustration.

The ambiance in the wedding hall suddenly shifted, the air buzzing with excitement and anticipation. The hoots and cheers of the guests filled the space, signaling the arrival of the bride. Aaryansh's heart skipped a beat, and he knew that Sitara had made her entrance. Despite the commotion around him, he kept his eyes fixed on the ground, unwilling to steal a glance at his soon-to-be wife.

He sensed her presence beside him, a soft rustle of fabric indicating her gentle arrival. Still, he refused to turn his head and meet her eyes. The rituals began, and it was as if Aaryansh and Sitara were mere puppets following a predestined script, their actions devoid of emotion or connection.

When the time came for the garland exchange, Aaryansh lifted his gaze momentarily to notice that Sitara's face was partially veiled, hiding her features from his view. Without much thought, he slipped the garland over her head, a mechanical gesture devoid of sentiment. In return, Sitara adorned him with the floral wreath, her touch fleeting and distant.

As Sitara's parents, Karan and Sejal, performed the solemn act of kanyadaan, the weight of the moment bore down on Aaryansh's shoulders. They proceeded to the sacred pheras, circling the holy fire as a silent divide separated the newlyweds.

Upon completing the rituals, Aaryansh stepped forward to perform the final acts of marital commitment. He placed the intricate mangalsutra around Sitara's neck and applied vermilion to her hairline with a steady hand, the solemnity of the moment palpable in the air. Not once did Aaryansh dare to meet Sitara's eyes, the distance between them growing with each passing moment.

As the ceremonies drew to a close, Sitara was officially proclaimed as Sitara Aaryansh Singh Rathore, a title that echoed through the hall in hushed reverence. The guests bowed in respect, acknowledging the union of their future king and queen.

With heavy hearts, the time for bidaai arrived, and Sitara bid tearful farewells to her family, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Aaryansh stood by stoically, a silent observer to her emotional goodbye.

Together, they departed for the Rathore mansion, the weight of their newfound bond heavy upon their shoulders, two strangers embarking on the uncertain journey of marriage.