The palace is dressed to its bones.

From the highest dome glinting in the sunlight to the underground grain cellars sealed tight, every inch of stone and sand are full of movement. Gardens are freshly trimmed and blooming, the training fields have been roped off and swept clean. Even the stables reek less of dung and more of fresh hay and sandalwood. The animals—decorated, fed, brushed—look like they've been expecting royalty in their stalls.

Every man and woman inside the premises is a part of the storm. No rest, no pause. People run like time's chasing them. With the arrival of the first wedding guests, everything's gone from strict to outright maddening.

No one breathes easy anymore.

"This is your final reminder, Suvala—see to it that every detail of their welcome and stay reflects flawless hospitality." Vikramaditya's voice cuts through the dust and din.