/0/87013/coverorgin.jpg?v=03a545cda7f62154e8e6e3fea8e07fc4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The evening air was thick with the scent of spices, freshly cooked meals, and the distant hum of villagers preparing for the annual harvest festival. Elara Mahesa had always looked forward to these festivals, but this year, it felt different. Her heart was heavy with an unease she couldn't quite explain, though she tried to shake it off as nothing more than a fleeting thought. The festival, after all, was a time for celebration, for laughter and music that echoed through the village streets.
As the villagers danced and sang, Elara's feet carried her away from the festivities, drawn to the old storage house at the edge of the village. The small, crumbling building was a place she had often retreated to as a child, seeking solitude in its shadowed corners. It was her sanctuary, a quiet place where she could escape from the prying eyes of the village and the expectations that weighed so heavily on her.
But tonight, there was something strange in the air. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves, and a soft thud echoed through the walls of the storage house. Elara hesitated for a moment, but her curiosity got the better of her. She crept toward the door, pushing it open with a creak that seemed far too loud in the stillness.
Inside, there was a figure, standing with his back to her. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that fell in messy waves around his face. Elara's breath caught in her throat as she realized that the man standing there was none other than Kieran Aditya Ravindra-the young master of the Ravindra family.
Kieran was a name that carried weight in the village. He was the heir to one of the wealthiest families in the region, a man whose presence commanded attention wherever he went. Elara had heard of him, of course-who hadn't? But she had never imagined that their paths would cross, much less in such a private, unexpected manner.
As she stood there, trying to make sense of the situation, the wind picked up again, sending the door swinging open wider. Elara stumbled, her foot catching on the floor, and she collided with Kieran, knocking him off balance. In an instant, they both fell to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs and awkward silence.
The sound of footsteps outside reached them, and suddenly, they were no longer alone. Villagers had gathered at the door, their eyes wide with shock as they took in the scene before them. A gasp swept through the crowd, followed by murmurs of confusion and curiosity.
"Elara?" someone called out, the voice trembling with uncertainty.
Kieran quickly stood up, helping her to her feet. His face was flushed with embarrassment, but there was a glint of something more in his eyes-something that Elara couldn't quite place. She opened her mouth to explain, but the words didn't come. What could she possibly say? The villagers had seen everything.
And that's when the rumors began.
The whispers spread like wildfire through the village, reaching the ears of everyone from the oldest matriarch to the youngest child. Some said that Elara and Kieran had been caught in a compromising position, while others claimed it was nothing more than a misunderstanding. But one thing was clear: the villagers believed the two of them had done something far worse than just accidentally bumping into each other in a quiet, forgotten corner of the village.
The following morning, as the sun rose over the village, the elders called a meeting, and Elara found herself at the center of a storm she never could have anticipated. The elders, with their wrinkled faces and sagely expressions, had decided that something needed to be done to preserve the honor of both Elara and the village. And so, in a sudden and unexpected turn of events, Elara was told that she would marry Kieran.
/0/72592/coverorgin.jpg?v=63f1ba50ac52b0ef584d5892103fdeab&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/65500/coverorgin.jpg?v=e3f1dd3d773a306796a0de4d5f3f33f3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/54125/coverorgin.jpg?v=64da912891855491ded74f252a2d118d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/33722/coverorgin.jpg?v=5bef0e27835433ea743ae97bca1d2d6b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80964/coverorgin.jpg?v=3a16a1f79d94d92b99bcbbdfe0af1dba&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/73372/coverorgin.jpg?v=129d11fc5caf06cf1d57611c0086b0a6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/91856/coverorgin.jpg?v=70873a281fa305c8351715ddbf2b2dd1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/96019/coverorgin.jpg?v=b6bbd8a40d1a6db29b15cd30dbb02d72&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/32729/coverorgin.jpg?v=02e5d17b6d9848f76f3a904e6b9e7041&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/58544/coverorgin.jpg?v=ace272ab4e948d3c74fd2e338383af8c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/15967/coverorgin.jpg?v=fe80228a3bb111ddf0895827afcc9fa6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/40555/coverorgin.jpg?v=44f6e686400dd7c7594fbd2d19a8c55b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/21961/coverorgin.jpg?v=fbbc08382be416253b4604cb1e3fc6a8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/45880/coverorgin.jpg?v=41d7363189e843f36599e0d5c9f75430&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/50897/coverorgin.jpg?v=bf62412a995873ff5b8ea18c55629342&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/25207/coverorgin.jpg?v=73594c7460eae1460bc7f688820c128f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/18631/coverorgin.jpg?v=27610a293e0988b4db43be43f1358803&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/51429/coverorgin.jpg?v=0a3631defeb78e3381a856d23aef57ba&imageMogr2/format/webp)