The air inside the Tripathy mansion was thick with the scent of five thousand kilograms of imported lilies and the suffocating weight of political ambition. In the master suite, Arohi Tripathy stood like a decorative statue, her body draped in a velvet lehenga so heavy with real gold thread and emeralds that it felt like wearing a suit of armor.

Her father, the MLA, had spent a fortune on this "merger." That was the word he used—not a wedding, a merger. Marrying the Chief Minister’s son wasn't about love; it was about securing the throne of the state for the next decade.