2 years later.
Sunlight poured over the grand gate that read Razamir Palaces. Three great palaces stood in a straight line on the same land, each with its own face but all part of one family:
Zenith Palace. The largest, at Centre, the family home where Zafar Razamir lived with his household.
Titan Hall at left of Zenith, bold and strict, Jalal Razamir’s house.
Lunara at right of Zenith, soft and calm, Kamal Razamir.
Three vast lawns stretched across the front of the palaces, seamlessly connected to one another. A wide stone pathway ran through the middle, leading to the grand black entrance gate.
Outside the massive gate, a large nameplate gleamed proudly.
RAZAMIR PALACES.
The sun stayed a moment longer above Zenith Palace, as if the morning itself wanted to watch what lived inside its walls.
Inside Zenith Palace, the breakfast room was warm with steam and the smell of paratha and tea. Zafar Razamir sat at the head of the long table. Beside him was Nafeesa, his wife, and nearby, Begum Zarina Razamir, his mother, sat with a quiet smile that never left her face. Cutlery rang, and the ordinary chatter of a family morning floated across the room.
Then the sound came, a steady tap, tap, tap on marble. Conversations stopped. All eyes turned to the corridor.
He walked slowly, cane folded in his hand. His green eyes were hidden behind black glasses. The family saw him approach and in that single moment grief crossed many faces. Zavian’s eyes reddened; Nafeesa and Begum Zarina blinked quickly to hide their tears.
“Good morning, everyone,” Aariz said, his voice calm as he joined the table.
“Bhai, come sit,” Zavian said, swallowing the shakiness from his voice.
“Come on, kiddo. It’s been two years now. You should be used to this,” Aariz said lightly, placing his hand on Zavian’s shoulder. He gave a small, steady smile and folded his cane before taking his seat.
Mishal, small and fierce in her feelings, burst into sudden sobs. “Baba, I want Aariz bhai’s(brother) eyes back!” she cried.
Ariz reached gently to her and smiled the way children love. “My little doll, don’t worry. I’ll go again. Maybe there’s still hope. Right, Baba?”
Zafar took a breath and placed a hand on Ariz’s. “Insha’Allah,” he said quietly. “If it is meant, your sight will return. If not… then Allah has chosen another strength for you.”
The room softened; people returned to their food, but the air felt different, respectful, heavy with love and care. Aariz ate slowly, letting the family fuss over him, letting small jokes and little tenderness stitch the morning together.
---
At Titan Hall, breakfast was a different scene. Order and quiet were rules. Jalal’s children sat straight-backed, speaking little as they ate. Plates were neat, spoons in place, no loud laughing. The house ran on discipline.
Saif leaned toward Zaroon and whispered with a grin, “I miss eating at Zenith. Everyone is so noisy and full of warmth there.”
Zaroon nudged him, a small smile breaking the silence. Their mother, Nadia, watched them and smiled a little, knowing the boys were warm at heart even if their home asked for order.
They finished quickly. As Jalal rose and left for the office, the children let out a quiet breath of relief.
“I wonder how Aariz bhai has been handling everything for so long,” Zaroon said, eyes full of curiosity.
Before anyone could answer, Saif jumped up, grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl, and ran out the door. Nadia sighed, amused and fond. “That boy will always run to meet Aariz,” she said quietly.
Outside, under the same bright sun, the two palaces began their morning: one soft with care and quiet grief, the other rigid with rules but warm beneath the surface. Between them, the family lived on, connected, complicated, and very much alive.
-------
At Lunara, the mood was different. Laughter spilled across the breakfast table, plates moved freely, and chatter overlapped as Idris and Liyana exchanged playful remarks with their parents. The air here was always lighter, softer the palace lived up to its name.
But in the middle of all the noise sat Mikhail Razamir, quiet as always. His answers came in short nods or a single word. When others laughed, he smiled faintly and returned to his newspaper.
Idris and Liyana shared a glance, then looked at their parents, who only shrugged. Finally, Idris cleared his throat, leaning toward his brother.
“Bhai(brother)… you don’t mind, but let me ask you something.”
Without looking up, Mikhail replied, “What is it, Idi?”
Idris’s jaw dropped. “It’s Idris, not Idi!” he shot back, frowning. His face changed angles in irritation, which made their parents and Liyana laugh.
“You were saying something, Idi?” Mikhail teased again, his lips curving in the smallest smirk.
Idris groaned. “Fine. I just wanted to ask… I remember you never liked reading newspapers. But for the past two years, you’ve made it your daily habit. Why?”
At last, Mikhail lifted his gaze. He folded the paper carefully, set it on the table, and looked directly at his brother. His voice was calm, but his words heavy.
“Aariz needs to know everything going on around. If he cannot read it himself, then I must.”
Silence fell. Only the faint ticking of his wristwatch was heard. Then the watch buzzed, the alarm soft against the quiet. Mikhail stood up.
But his eyes red, wet with unshed tears betrayed him. Before anyone could speak, he left the table, his steps echoing until he crossed Lunara’s threshold and vanished into the gardens.
Around the table, the family sighed together, hearts heavy. They all knew what he didn’t say out loud.
Everyone knew the truth of it: Aariz, Saif, and Mikhail shared more than brotherhood. They were each other’s strength, shadows, and shields. Friends before, brothers always, but since the night of the accident, the bond had deepened into something unshakable.
Where Ariz’s eyes had failed him, Saif and Mikhail had become his vision. They stood where he could not see, carried what he could not reach. And together, the three were bound tighter than ever before. Abond of loyalty that no enemy, no shadow, could easily break.
--------
The lawn outside Zenith Palace stretched wide, filled with old date trees and fruit trees heavy with shade. The morning was cloudy, with just enough sun to slip through the branches. In a quiet corner, three cousins sat together. Aariz, Saif, and Mikhail.
An apple passed from hand to hand. One bite for Aariz, another for Saif, then Mikhail, and back again. It was their old habit, unchanged even after everything.
“Aren’t you both going to the office today?” Aariz asked, feeling for the apple again and biting into it with ease.
“I’ll go after noon,” Saif replied casually, the same answer he always gave.
“You should’ve gone to Imperial Threads at least, to check things for the last time before tomorrow,” Aariz reminded him, his tone calm but firm.
“I’ve got a meeting to attend,” Saif said, chewing loudly.
Aariz and Mikhail both turned their faces toward him at once, the question plain in their eyes. Saif avoided their stares, keeping his lips sealed.
Mikhail narrowed his eyes. “Another girlfriend? Or another club party?”
“Ah, why, man?” Saif muttered, knowing Mikhail’s guesses always cut too close. He shook his head quickly. “No! What do you guys take me for? I’m not that kind of person.” His face carried fake innocence, but neither brother was convinced.
“As if we don’t know you,” Aariz said dryly. “Cancel whatever meeting you think you have. Go to Imperial Threads with Mikhail. Check everything. Baba and Chacha Sahib can handle the office today.” He reached for the apple again, finishing the last bite.
“But my meeting is very important,” Saif protested.
Aariz tilted his head toward Mikhail. “Do you have Zakia Khala’s number saved? Dial it. Tell her Aariz has something urgent to discuss about her to-be son-in-law.”
Mikhail smirked, already pulling his phone from his pocket.
Saif jumped up. “Okay, okay! I’m going to the office. No need to threaten me. What kind of friends do I have!” he grumbled as he marched toward Titan Hall to get ready.
Aariz and Mikhail shared a light smile. Just a flicker, just enough before their faces turned serious again, as they always did.
“Any progress?” Aariz asked quietly, spinning his cane between his fingers.
Mikhail shook his head. “No.”
“How many tenders have we lost in the last six months?”
“Five,” Mikhail replied, worry flashing in his eyes. “And I’m a little concerned about tomorrow’s show. I just hope it goes well.”
“It won’t be like two years ago,” Aariz said firmly. “This time, it has to be the best.”
Mikhail nodded. The two fell silent, the weight of responsibility hanging between them, heavier than the clouds above.
‐------
Evening shadows stretched across the vast gardens of Zenith Palace. The men were away. Some at offices, some at universities, and the three eldest grandsons at Imperial Threads, preparing for tomorrow’s grand show.
The lawns felt calmer without the noise of boys. Only the soft wind and the clinking of teacups filled the air. Four women sat together under the wide umbrella of a tree: Begum Zarina Razamir, her daughter-in-law Nafeesa, and Nadia from Titan Hall and Salma begum from Lunara Palace. Their trays of tea and light snacks sat between them, untouched more for the joy of talking than eating.
Begum Zarina held her cup carefully, her wrinkled face glowing in the golden light. She looked at her daughters-in-law with a smile. A smile that carried love, wisdom, and an unspoken command.
“I have a wish now,” she said softly, her eyes twinkling with determination.
All women turned toward her. “What wish, Maa ji?” asked Nafeesa warmly.
“I want to see our elder grandsons, married,” Begum Zarina said, her voice steady, leaving no space for doubt. “It is time. I want Saif, Aariz, and Mikhail to get married on the same day. All three are engaged, mashallah. There is no better time than now.”
Nafeesa’s brows lifted, a smile spreading across her lips. “That’s a beautiful suggestion, Maa ji. Imagine, a triple celebration in Zenith, Titan Hall, and Lunara all together.”
Salma nodded, excitement glowing in her eyes. “It will be grand. A wedding the city will remember for years.” while Nadia Begum shifted uncomfortably.
Zarina Begum leaned back, satisfied with their response. “Yes. Let us talk to your husbands. This house has seen sorrow, it has seen burdens. Now it must see happiness and festivity.”
The women shared a glance, already picturing the palaces lit up with flowers, music, and guests. A wedding… or three weddings together.
For now, they sipped their tea, the evening light painting their hopes golden. But in the corner of each heart, one question lingered silently. How ready were their sons for this step?
--------
Zenith Palace looked like the crown of the estate, beautiful and powerful. The main hall, where the brothers were sitting, was large and bright. The white marble floor shone under the warm golden lights. Two grand staircases stood on both sides of the hall, curving up to the first floor.
The palace had three spacious halls, two TV lounges, and a large study room. One lounge had a modern look with comfortable sofas, while the other had a royal feel with carved wooden furniture and velvet chairs. The study was lined with bookshelves, old maps, and a large wooden desk where the elders of the Razamir family once made important decisions.
The palace was decorated in royal colours, deep red, dark blue, and gold. The ivory walls and tall windows made the place look elegant and peaceful.
In the middle of the hall, the three brothers sat together. Saif leaned back comfortably, playing with the ring on his finger while his eyes wandered toward the crystal chandelier above.
Aariz sat straight and calm, his hands resting in his lap. Even though he couldn't see, his quiet presence filled the room with confidence.
Mikhail leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His face was serious, and his eyes still held the emotions he had been trying to hide.
Silence filled the hall.
Only the soft ticking of the large wall clock and their quiet breathing could be heard. It was rare for the three brothers to sit together without talking, but tonight felt different. Something heavy hung in the air.
------
The huge hall of Zenith Palace was alive with evening chatter. In one corner, Mishal, Liyana, and Areesha sat together with a glossy magazine open between them, pointing at makeup tips and whispering with giggles. The sound of joy filled the air, but not every heart was light.
On the other side of the hall, three brothers, Saif, Mikhail, and Aariz who sat quietly in the company of their grandmother, Begum Zarina, their fathers, and mothers. The topic on everyone’s mind was the one Zarina Begum had spoken earlier: the marriages of her elder grandsons.
“I don’t think I’m ready for this,” Aariz’s calm but firm voice broke the silence.
“Why not?” Mikhail asked, turning toward him.
Aariz gave a faint smile, trying to soften the moment. “Just leave me. Do their weddings first. Poor Saif has been waiting for five years already.”
“Don’t joke about this,” his father, Zafar Razamir, said in a serious tone. “You have any problem?”
Before Aariz could reply, Nadia Begum cleared her throat, her eyes on her daughter. “Areesha, come here.”
Areesha hesitated, but under her mother’s urging, she stepped forward, clutching the hem of her dress. Aariz’s grip tightened on his walking stick as if he already sensed the storm about to come.
“She wants to say something,” Nadia Begum whispered softly.
“I…” Areesha’s voice trembled. “I don’t want to marry Aariz.”
The hall fell into heavy silence. Everyone froze.
“What?” Grandmother Zarina’s eyes widened. “What kind of joke is this? You’ve been engaged for three years.”
“And it happened with your own will,” her father added, his tone sharp.
Areesha’s fingers twisted nervously. “I can’t… marry a blind man.” The words slipped out, shattering the warmth of the hall.
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Saif’s chair scraped against the floor. “Areesha!” he shouted, anger flashing in his eyes on his sister’s words, but Aariz’s steady hand caught his wrist, holding him back.
“Everyone has the right to choose,” Aariz said, his voice calm but heavy with pain. “We are not here to force her. She is not wrong to say no.”
He slipped the engagement ring from his finge. The ring he had worn faithfully for three years and placed it on the centre table. The small clink of the metal against the wood echoed louder than all the words.
The atmosphere grew tense, shadows of sorrow falling over every face.
“There’s nothing to be worried about,” Aariz tried again, hiding his broken heart behind his gentle tone. “I want my brothers to marry first. That’s enough for me.”
“You can’t fool me,” Mikhail muttered, his voice shaking as he rose from his chair and stormed out of the hall. Saif followed, throwing a glare at his sister before leaving as well.
Jalal Raza Mir lowered his head, guilt heavy in his eyes as he glanced at his brother. Silence wrapped around the hall. No one dared to say more.
Aariz stood slowly, his stick firm in his hand. “Baba, Chacha Sahib, we’ll discuss this later. For now, I need to go meet my friends.”
And with that, he walked out, his steps steady, though every soul sitting there knew his heart was bleeding inside.
-------
Aariz followed the sound of their footsteps, his stick ticking softly on the marble floor. He already knew where they would be.
“Rahim,” he called out.
“Yes, Sir,” the servant came forward, hands folded at his back.
“Take me to the basketball court.”
Rahim nodded and offered his arm. Holding it firmly, Ariz walked with him. Neither of them spoke; the only sound was of the evening breeze brushing against Aariz’s face, cooling his restless mind. When they reached the ground, Rahim quietly stepped back, leaving him to walk ahead on his own.
The stick tapped against the cement as Aariz slowly made his way forward. He stopped near the benches where his brothers sat.
“I guess my friends are not going to talk to me,” Aariz said lightly and took a seat beside them.
Mikhail’s jaw tightened, his eyes still red. “You can’t always hide your wounds, Aariz. You don’t have to be so strong every time. I know it hurts.”
Aariz exhaled slowly, his hand tightening over his stick. “I heard her too, Mikhail. Areesha crying… asking her mother to break the engagement. She said she can’t trust her life with a blind man. And she’s right.” His voice shook for the first time.
“Who would ever want to marry someone like me? A man who can’t even walk without help. My whole life is nothing but darkness.”
Mikhail pressed his lips together, struggling to speak. Saif, however, clenched his fists, his silence louder than words.
“And why are you so quiet?” Aariz finally turned toward him.
Saif lifted his head, his voice breaking. “Nothing. Just… I’m sorry for what my sister said. But one thing is clear, Aariz. I am not going to marry before you. Remember our promise? The three of us on the same day.”
Aariz gave a sad smile. “Some promises are not meant to be fulfilled. I want both of you to embrace your happiness without waiting for me.”
“Not going to happen,” Mikhail said firmly, his tone serious, almost harsh.
Aariz stayed quiet for a moment, hearing their stubborn loyalty in the silence. Then he spoke softly, “You cannot make Mishal wait for you anymore. It’s been four years, Mikhail. She finished her studies last year. This is the best time for you both to start your journey.”
Saif suddenly stood up. “I’m going,” he muttered and walked away. His steps were heavy. It was his way of saying he would never agree to this discussion.
Mikhail too tried to rise, but Aariz caught his hand, holding him back. “Consider it my wish,” Aariz whispered. “You should marry, Mikhail. Pour some happiness into these silent palaces. Let there be celebrations again. And as for me… when the right person comes, I’ll get married.”
Mikhail let out a long sigh and sat back down. Neither of them spoke after that. The silence stretched across the basketball court, but it wasn’t empty. It was filled with their bond, the bond of three brothers who carried each other’s pain like their own.
A/N:: Hi readers.
Hope you've enjoyed the chapter. Do leave your comments about the story. How's it going? Next chapter will be updated tomorrow.
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