The night has mellowed.The crowds have gone. The last of the fairy lights are dimmed to a romantic hum. Inside Toast of Royals, only the families and the closest circle remain. The palace feels softer now — more like a home, less like an event.
Trisha stood by the grand marble railing of the central courtyard, swirling the remnants of her wine. A familiar, unmissable voice calls out from behind.
Aisha: "So… CEO of a mega empire, co-founder of the fanciest palace-dining dream in Rajasthan, and—dare I say—a woman in a very no-strings-attached situationship with Reeva freaking Khanna?"
Trisha (smirking without turning): "You've been talking to Tanvi."
Aisha (sipping her wine): "And she's been talking to Yashika. The assistants' hotline is faster than NDTV."
They both burst into easy, belly-deep laughter.
Aisha (nudging her arm): "But damn, Trish. You look happy. Soft eyes, stupid grin when Reeva walks in, bedroom soundproofed… like who even are you?"
Trisha (mock shrugging): "Still figuring that out, I guess. But yeah… I feel good. No labels. No pressure. Just… us."
Aisha (softening): "And you trust her?"
Trisha (nodding, quiet): "More than I expected to."
There's a beat of silence. Aisha watches her best friend like she's seeing her for the first time in years.
Aisha: "Good. You deserve this. After Neha… after everything… I just wanted you to be loved the way you love."
Trisha (dry laugh, smirk returning): "She doesn't love me. It's just sex, remember?"
Aisha (rolling her eyes): "Yeah, and I sell wine only for the grapes."
They both laugh again — until Trisha's eyes drift and she spots a figure approaching in heels and exhaustion.
Trisha (calling out): "Khanna!"
Reeva (walking over, undoing her blazer button): "Ugh. Exhausting man. Wait—uff. Aisha Kapoor. Our drug dealer. I mean, wine supplier. And Trisha's best friend. Finally."
Aisha (hugging Reeva): "I've heard so much about you. Mostly from assistants and one very horny best friend."
Reeva (chuckling): "Guilty."
They gather around the courtyard table, Trisha pouring the last bottle of Aisha's rare Syrah blend. The three queens of their own worlds — now orbiting one another with uncensored familiarity.
Aisha (grinning): "Okay so tell me, both of you — is this really just sex?"
Trisha (half-laughing, half-eyeroll): "Not yet."
Reeva (pausing, then calmly): "Maybe. I don't know. Maybe it is more than that."
Trisha (blinking, then narrowing eyes slightly): "What do you mean, Khanna?"
Reeva (shrugs): "I mean... maybe I like waking up next to you. Maybe I like how you look at me when you think I'm not watching. Maybe I care a little more than I planned."
A silence stretches — long enough for Trisha to pour more wine she doesn't even intend to drink.
Trisha (mocking smirk, voice tight): "Wow. And here I was thinking I was the dramatic one. You caught feelings during a no-strings-attached contract? That's so… straight of you."
Reeva (softly, not rising to it): "I didn't say I'm in love with you. I said… maybe."
Trisha (looking away, sipping): "Well. Maybe don't."
Aisha (awkward laugh): "Okay! And we've officially entered the emotionally constipated zone. My cue to refill my glass."
Reeva (gently, to Trisha): "You don't have to panic. I'm not asking for more. Just… being honest."
Trisha (with a quick smirk to Aisha): "Remind me to ban honest conversations after midnight."
Aisha: "Right after we ban feelings at the dinner table."
They all laugh — but this time it's laced with something unspoken. The kind of tension that sits between what's said and what's meant.
Aisha (raising her glass): "To hot messes and royal entanglements."
Trisha & Reeva (in sync): "Cheers."
The clink of crystal glasses echoes under the arches of Toast of Royals.
But inside Trisha's chest, something stirs. She brushes it off with wine and wit — but it lingers.