Writer's pov
The sun had just begun its ascent, casting a warm, golden hue across the quaint 90s-themed bedroom. Posters of boy bands adorned the walls, and a mix of polaroids and pastel-colored trinkets cluttered the dresser. Arna Shekhawat lay sprawled across her bed, her hair a tangled mess, and an alarm clock blaring from the nightstand.

Arna groaned, reaching out a hand to silence the alarm. She squinted at the time—8:30 AM. Her eyes widened in panic.

"Not again!" she exclaimed, scrambling out of bed. She darted around her room, pulling on mismatched socks and frantically searching for her clothes.

Downstairs, the clinking of dishes and the smell of toast wafted through the air. Arna's mother, Reena, stood by the kitchen counter, her expression stern as she sipped her morning tea.

"Late again, Arna?" Ritya's voice was sharp, cutting through the morning calm. "What a surprise."

Arna hurried into the kitchen, her shirt half-buttoned and hair still in disarray. "I'm sorry, Mom. My alarm didn't go off."

"Excuses, excuses," Reena sighed, setting her cup down with a clatter. "Why can't you be more like your sister? Nitya is always up on time, and she doesn't need to be reminded about her responsibilities."

Nitya, the younger sister, sat at the table, perfectly composed in her neatly pressed outfit. She glanced up from her cereal, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Good morning, Arna. Slept well?"

Arna bit her lip, swallowing the retort that bubbled up. She grabbed a piece of toast, stuffing it into her mouth as she dashed towards the door."I know she is getting ready to meet her lover huhhhh"

"Don't forget to bring sweet dishes from your bakery for me and nitya," Reena called out, her tone softer now. She handed a neatly packed lunchbox to Nitya, who accepted it with a sweet smile.

Arna glanced back, the sting of her mother's favoritism biting harder than usual. "Okay mom," she muttered, grabbing her bag racing out the door.

The walk to the bakery shop was a blur of emotions. Arna's mind replayed the morning's events, her mother's harsh words, and Nitya's mocking smile. She knew she was different, clumsier, not perfect. But as she watched the world awaken around her, she felt a spark of determination.

"Today will be different," she whispered to herself. "I'll prove them wrong."

Arna arrived at the bakery, her heart pounding as she fumbled with the keys. She could already see a small line forming outside, impatient customers tapping their feet and checking their watches. The familiar aroma of freshly baked bread and pastries greeted her as she pushed open the door. Her assistant, Priya, looked up from behind the counter, a worried expression on her face.

"Thank goodness you're here, Arna," Priya said, handing her an apron. "We're out of wheat flour. How will we serve the customers?"

Arna nodded, tying the apron around her waist. She took a deep breath, letting the comforting scents of the bakery calm her nerves. The rush of the morning melted away as she focused on the tasks at hand—kneading dough, decorating cakes, and serving customers with a smile. In the warmth of the bakery, surrounded by the fruits of her labor, Arna felt a sense of purpose and belonging. Here, she was more than just the clumsy girl her mother saw; she was the heart and soul of her own little world. " Don't worry Priya go to Raju uncle he will give us 2 stacks of wheat flour I will pay him later"

Priya nodded....
As the morning rush continued, Aarna and Priya worked tirelessly, improvising with the ingredients they had. Despite the initial setback, the bakery buzzed with the energy of satisfied customers, their cheerful chatter filling the air.

Meanwhile.......in royal mansion
   Rudra's POV

The early morning light filtered through the blinds, casting faint stripes across my desk. I sat there, surrounded by the chaos of papers and files, struggling to focus on the screen in front of me. My mind was a storm of spreadsheets and deadlines, the weight of my responsibilities pressing down on me like an oppressive fog.I was vaguely aware of the palace’s quiet hum of activity, a stark contrast to the chaos in my head.

My grandmother’s concern about my future had been palpable during our last conversation. Though she had not called me directly this morning, I knew her worry was as persistent as ever. Her pleas for me to consider marriage had been clear, and while I had dismissed them, her expectations weighed heavily on me.
The real issue, however, was my grandfather's ultimatum. The King of Udaipur, as unyielding as ever, had laid down a decree. I had exactly one week to find a suitable bride, or he would arrange the marriage himself. The thought of it was almost laughable in the face of my current workload.

An arranged marriage seemed like an unnecessary complication, a distraction from the demanding role I was trying to master.I adjusted my tie and glanced at my reflection in the mirror, a sense of frustration bubbling beneath my calm exterior. The task ahead seemed daunting—finding someone who could fit into the rigid expectations of our family while managing the empire that was now my responsibility.
My phone buzzed with a new email, snapping me back to reality. For now, the endless stream of numbers and decisions had to be my focus. But the looming deadline for my personal life was never far from my thoughts, a constant reminder that my professional and personal worlds were on a collision course.

As I prepared to leave for the office, I paused in the hallway where the soft laughter of my four-year-old brother, yuv, drifted from the playroom. His birthday was tomorrow, and though the palace was abuzz with preparations, this moment of joy was a welcome distraction.

I crouched down to his level, my stern expression softening as he bounded over, eyes shining with excitement. “rudu bhaiya!” he squealed, wrapping his small arms around my legs.
I ruffled his hair and managed a genuine smile, momentarily forgetting the weight of my responsibilities. His innocent enthusiasm reminded me of the simple pleasures in life, if only for a fleeting moment...
And left for the office

Before reaching my office I had to go to a  hotel....a meeting was fixed with onw of our buisness friend.......

Author 's pov

Rudra sat in the upscale hotel lobby, engaged in a lively conversation with one of his business friends.
The meeting was important, but his attention was irresistibly drawn to the large glass window beside them. Across the road, a quaint bakery caught his eye, its sign reading "Arna's Bakery."
As if on cue, a young woman stepped out, and Rudra's breath caught in his throat. She was mesmerizing—her beauty so radiant it seemed to illuminate the street. Her features were so striking, so perfect, they seemed almost regal. Rudra found himself captivated by her every movement, unable to comprehend how someone with such extraordinary genes could be working in a bakery.
His friend’s voice faded into the background as Rudra’s gaze remained fixed on Arna, his mind racing with curiosity and admiration.

After the meeting, Rudra’s phone buzzed with an incoming call from his aunt. He excused himself and answered.

"Rudra, there’s been a change of plans," she said, her voice tinged with urgency. "The cake for little Yuv’s fourth birthday can’t be shipped from abroad. We need to order from a bakery here in India. Please find a reputable five-star bakery, and we’ll place the order with them."

As he hung up, Rudra's thoughts immediately drifted back to the bakery he had just been admiring. Arna’s Bakery. He couldn’t shake the image of Arna from his mind, her beauty and the charm of her bakery. Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to see her again and learn more about her. With a newfound sense of purpose, he set out to make his way across the street, hoping Arna’s Bakery would be the perfect place to get Yuv’s birthday cake.

Rudra stepped into the cozy bakery, expecting to find Aarna, but was instead greeted by Priya. "Can I order a cake?" he asked, glancing around the quaint shop.Priya smiled and nodded. "Of course. But this bakery isn't mine. Aarna ma'am is out right now. She should be back in about five minutes."
Rudra's secretary, impatience evident in his tone, interjected, "Rudra sir doesn't have five minutes to wait. We should go to another bakery that operates more professionally."

Rudra shook his head, dismissing the suggestion. "No, we'll wait."
Fifteen minutes later, Aarna finally arrived, slightly out of breath but with a warm smile.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖