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The pandit's chanting fills the small temple as Riwaz stands rigid beside Priya, his mother-bride. He can't look at her, focusing instead on the garland of marigolds in his trembling hands. Priya's fingers brush his as she accepts the garland, her touch electric against his skin. 'Our duty begins,' she whispers, her voice barely audible over the mantras. Riwaz finally meets her eyes, seeing not a mother but a woman bound to him by sacred threads, and his breath catches.
This chapter is being written. Check back later for the full story.