“Naina.” India was the first to break the mortified silence. Flaming cheeks notwithstanding, her voice was calm and filled with warmth. This was not a surprise. India had the sort of Buddha vibe Vansh had seen monks in Dharamshala aspire to with little success. “Vansh. I hope you’re both having a good time,” she added, doubling down on the yogic vibe.

That made Yash press a cough-laugh into his fist. God, was this really his brother?

India threw what could only be called the fondest glare at Yash, who seemed to be tearing up with the effort of containing his mirth. To be perfectly honest, if Vansh met his brother’s eyes they would both burst into laughter.

“Oh, we’re having a great time,” Naina said, with every bit of the elegant drollness Vansh associated with her.

“Although not nearly as much fun as we interrupted,” Vansh said before he could stop himself and gave up on holding his laughter back. “What the hell, Yash? This is literally a political party thrown by your political party.”

“We just needed a moment,” India said, her blush deepening. “It’s been a lot.”

Yash sobered and slid a protective arm around her. “The worst of the circus is over,” he said, his statesman shoulders widening with purpose. “Campaigns are the worst part. Now the press will shift its focus to my work. They’ll leave you alone. I’ll make sure of it.”

The relief on India’s face was palpable.

Naina’s body stiffened infinitesimally. She covered it up with more of that determined breeziness and smiled kindly at India.

Before anyone could say more, another intertwined couple turned the corner into the private alcove that was turning out not to be so private after all.

“I’ve been waiting for you to use your gavel all evening, Your Honor.”

God, please, no! Those were the last words on earth Vansh ever, ever, wanted to hear his oldest sister say to her judge husband. Ever.

Yash, who was generally not the sort of guy who snorted with laughter, snorted with laughter so violently that Nisha and Neel jumped apart like someone had fired a cannon.

Nisha’s hands pressed into her face. “No. No. Nononono. What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Not waiting for Neel to use his gavel, that’s for sure,” Yash said, still howling like a hyena. Which, to be fair, Vansh was doing as well.

Nisha charged at Yash. Neel grabbed her around her waist. As a circuit court judge (with a gavel), Neel obviously saw enough crazy shit on a daily basis that he was entirely unfazed by any Raje family shenanigans.

He held Nisha in check while laughing into her hair, and in the end she broke down and started laughing too, embarrassed though the laughter was.