Thakur Vijayendra Pratap Singh  – The Silent Storm

Vijayendra Pratap Singh was a man who commanded attention without a word. Standing tall at 6'2ft, his broad shoulders and strong frame carried the weight of generations. His presence alone was enough to silence a room, his dark, kohl-rimmed eyes holding an intensity that could pierce through the bravest of men. A faint tilak marked his forehead, a reminder of the lineage he carried with unshaken authority. Dressed in an off-white kurta, a finely embroidered shawl draped over one shoulder, and leather riding boots, he looked every bit the powerful ruler he was. His black horse, Raunak, galloped through the golden sands, dust swirling behind him as he rode through his lands like an emperor surveying his kingdom.



At night, he stood on the palace balcony, the blood-red sunset casting long shadows behind him, his sharp jawline and neatly trimmed beard adding to the aura of mystery he carried. The weight of his silver kada rested on his wrist, fingers adorned with heavy gold rings, his grip firm and unyielding. He was a man of few words, but when he spoke, his voice, deep and commanding, left no room for defiance. His world was one of power, control, and discipline, his mind sharp as the sword resting beside his chair. The scent of sandalwood and musk clung to him, much like the rumors that whispered his name through the villages. He was feared, respected, a storm brewing in silence—and yet, there was one thing in his world that could challenge his control.

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Aaradhya Rathore – The Untamed Flame

Aaradhya was like a delicate flame—small, bright, but capable of burning everything in her path. At 19yrs  5'3ft, her petite frame held a spirit far larger than the world allowed her. Long, waist-length black hair swayed behind her like a silk curtain, strands escaping to frame her delicate face. Her hazel eyes, lined with dark kohl, held a quiet defiance, a fire that refused to be tamed despite the world's expectations. There was an innocence to her beauty, but also stubbornness, an untamed spirit hidden beneath layers of silk and gold.

She moved like a whisper through the grand palace corridors, her anklets chiming softly, her silver bangles clinking as she tucked a book under her arm. The soft scent of jasmine flowers woven into her thick braid lingered in the air, mixing with the scent of ink from the pages she so often lost herself in. Her favorite dupatta, light as a whisper, flowed behind her like a shadow as she ran barefoot through the mustard fields, laughter spilling from her lips. Dressed in a peach-colored lehenga with delicate gota-patti embroidery, she looked like a painting come to life, untouched by the harsh realities of the world around her.



Yet, beneath the softness, there was steel. When she lifted her veil, her fierce kohl-lined eyes challenged the world, daring it to silence her. She was like the first drops of rain on dry earth, refreshing yet unpredictable, her presence as soothing as the temple bells that rang in the early morning. She did not yet know the storm that awaited her—the man who had already claimed her without her knowledge. And when their worlds finally collided, she would either tame the storm or be swept away by it.

Dated- 8th of March 2025