Albela | Sajan

Leela was mid-pirouette. She froze.

She threw her ghungroo at him. He caught it. Albela Sajan

But before the guards could move, Ayaan began to sing. Leela was mid-pirouette

His voice was raw, like a sandstorm scraping against marble. He didn’t sing of devotion or war. He sang of a woman who walked like a river and a man who loved her like a fool. He caught it

But chaos, as it turns out, was patient.

From the darkness, a voice answered: "Four… five… six…"

"See?" he whispered. " Albela Sajan —you are not a dancer. You are a storm that learned to wear anklets." They were married at dawn, without the Maharaja's blessing. He didn't give it, but he didn't stop it either. The whole court watched as Leela walked out of the haveli barefoot, carrying only her ghungroos in one hand and Ayaan's hand in the other.