The hall went deathly still, as though someone had drawn all the air out of it. Chandeliers glittered overhead, but their light felt cold now, throwing sharp edges on every face. All eyes locked on the young couple at the center—fingers intertwined, shoulders squared—standing like a single figure against a tide of disbelief and scandal.

Even the dhol players had gone silent, hands poised mid-beat. Only the faint crackle of the oil lamps and the hiss of whispered prayers slithered through the vast space. A glass clinked somewhere. Someone muttered a god’s name under their breath.