The morning sun poured through the latticed jharokhas of the Ranawat palace, casting golden beams over the polished marble floors. The air carried a faint fragrance of mogra and sandalwood, the scent of tradition woven into the very walls of this ancestral home. Eraya stood still, the silk curtains of her chamber billowing behind her with the soft push of the breeze, like invisible hands whispering secrets from centuries past.
She stood before the grand, antique mirror, framed in rosewood and adorned with floral carvings. Her reflection stared back—a woman poised at the edge of a new life. Clad in a pale gold lehenga threaded with crimson vines and subtle sequins that shimmered like dew in sunlight, she looked every bit the royal bride she was expected to be. Yet beneath the intricate embroidery and expensive silks, her heart beat in quiet turmoil.
"As a new writer, my goal is to build a community of readers who believe in my stories, characters, and journey. Every bit of support — a read, a comment, a share — helps me grow, inspires me to write better, and brings me closer to my dream of touching hearts through my words. Your encouragement is the foundation on which I hope to build my writing career."
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