The morning sun filtered through the ornate windows of the palace dining room, casting golden patterns across the marble floor. Despite the beautiful start to the day, the atmosphere remained heavy with the lingering effects of last night's announcement. I sat at the breakfast table, picking at my aloo paratha (stuffed potato flatbread), my mind still reeling from the reality that Bade Papa would be leaving us soon.

The silence was almost suffocating. Even Manyu, usually chattering away about his dreams or asking endless questions, seemed to sense the mood and ate his breakfast quietly. Maa kept glancing between Papa and Bade Papa, her expression a mixture of sadness and resignation.