It was already nightfall by the time Vikram and Parwati returned to the palace. The sprawling corridors were dimly lit, their footsteps echoing off the polished marble floors as they made their way to the dining hall. When they arrived, they found it empty—the long table set but untouched, the chandeliers casting a warm, golden light over the vacant room. It seemed that everyone else, including Vaibhav and Vikram's grandfather, had already retired for the night. The only sounds were the faint crackling of the fire in the hearth and the soft clinking of their cutlery as they began their meal.

They ate in silence, but it was a companionable silence, one that reminded Parwati of the night they had shared a meal alone at the campsite, beneath a canopy of stars. That night had been a turning point for her, a moment when she realized that silence with Vikram didn't have to be awkward or strained. Tonight, the quiet between them felt similarly comfortable.