The next morning arrived with the echo of last night's storm. The sun rose but brought no warmth to Eshal's heart. Her father's voice still echoed in her mind like thunder — stern, sharp, and unforgiving.
In her room, Eshal sat by her window, clutching the necklace Zayan had gifted her. Her fingers traced the engraved words — 9 Years, 1 Love. Could love ever be enough to break the walls her father had built?
Downstairs, Lord Haroon stood in his study, pacing back and forth. His pride had been wounded, but his fear was greater. He couldn't lose his daughter — not to the same family that had once nearly destroyed his own.
His sister, Zarina, entered quietly. "Bhai, aap dil ki suniye. Bachpan se Zayan ko dekha hai. Us mein burai kya hai?"
Haroon's expression hardened. "Us khandan ka naam sunte hi mera khoon khaulta hai. Eshal meri beti hai. Main usse wahan nahi bhej sakta."
Meanwhile, Zayan stood at his family's estate balcony, gazing into the distance. His younger brother, Rehan, walked up to him. "You knew it wouldn't be easy."
Zayan nodded. "It's never been easy. But love isn't about ease. It's about persistence."
"Do you think her father will ever accept?" Rehan asked quietly.
"I don't know," Zayan whispered. "But I'll win him over. I have to."
That evening, Eshal received a message.
"I know he's angry. But don't lose hope. Let's not give up on us." — Zayan
Eshal closed her eyes, tears rolling down. She replied:
"I won't. Even if the world stands against us, I'll stand with you."
Outside, night fell once again. The garden behind Eshal's house remained quiet — but in the silence, hope lingered. For the war between love and bloodlines had just begun.