A chorus of peacocks echoed in the distance, their cries sharp and haunting in the morning hush, mingling with the softer chirps of birds hidden within the canopy above. The world felt too vivid, too loud. A low groan escaped my lips as consciousness began to pull me upward from its depths. My eyelids fluttered, heavy and reluctant, only to recoil at the unforgiving brilliance of the sunlight pouring down. It sliced through my lashes like thin blades of fire, forcing me to shut my eyes once more, tightly, instinctively.

My entire body throbbed with a dull, persistent ache. The elaborate bridal lehenga clung to me like a second skin, its embroidery and stiff fabric pressing into my limbs, digging into my back. The weight of it, along with the cold bite of metal from layers of jewelry, made it impossible to stretch or move freely. I had curled myself into a ball sometime during the night, and now every muscle protested the contorted posture. My back screamed the loudest, a deep, knotted pain that pulsed with every breath I took.