Day 1 @ RK Estate
The RK Estate is spread along the hillside in layered tiers. We’ve just left the main glass building, the heart of the property, in a buggy after checking in for my cottage. It’s the one place that never really rests with guests constantly moving in and out.
The buggy rolls softly as it carries us up a winding stone road. We pass through several guest cottages tucked away amongst the pine trees. Below, a few guests stroll along the stone pathways, while another buggy glides past us in the opposite direction, ferrying a couple back towards the main lobby.
Esha sits in front beside the driver and occasionally turns back to point things out.
“We like to keep the estate nice and easy to walk around,” she explains with a smile. “But guests can call for a buggy anytime they want to move between the lobby, the cottages, or the vineyards.”
The road curves again, taking us higher as more of the estate comes into view. As we round a bend, something catches my attention. At the very top of the mountain ridge, towering above the entire estate like it owns the sky itself, stands a massive villa built in dark wood and glass. Its wide balconies open out over the valley, giving a clear view of everything below.
Esha notices where I’m looking.
“That’s Mr. Kundra’s private residence,” she says politely.
I nod. The buggy continues forward. To one side, a long steel barricade stretches along the edge where the trees begin. Beyond it, the land thickens into dense forest. Tall pines crowd together so tightly that the ground beneath is almost impossible to see.
“That area is restricted,” Esha explains. “It gets unsafe after dark. Wolves and other animals are known to wander down sometimes, so the gates stay locked at night.”
Interesting.
The buggy finally slows as we turn onto a narrower path lined with stone lanterns. Ahead of us, is a secluded cottage where the buggy comes to a smooth stop.
“This is your cottage, Miss Vardhaan,” Esha says as the driver switches off the engine.
Michael, my bodyguard, steps out first and scans the surroundings before I step down from the buggy. I walk behind Esha up the short stone pathway leading to the cottage door. She pushes it open and walks inside ahead of me.
“This is called the Princess Suite. Our finest cottage in the resort. It’s perfect for your stay,” she says with pride.
My gaze sweeps over the cosy suite, done in soft tones that speak of quiet luxury. Gold accents catch the light, polished wood adds depth, and a canopy bed sits at the centre. Silk curtains flutter gently as the cold mountain breeze slips through the room. It’s perfect.
Esha moves into the living area and opens the tall glass doors leading to the private balcony.
“Let me show you the best part of this suite,” she says with a smile.
The curtains sway aside as she gestures for me to step out onto the veranda. From here, the estate cascades down themountainside in distinct tiers, each one positioned below the other.
“This section is the upper guest level,” Esha explains, her hand sweeping across the landscape. “Each cottage here is a private suite. And yours has the best view of the valley.”
I rest my palms against the cool stone railing and look down. Cottages stretch across the slope below, tucked between pines, their roofs peeking through the trees as if they’ve grown into the hillside itself.
My gaze drifts lower down the mountain.
The middle level of the estate spreads into a wide terrace where the main resort building sits. Warm light spills through its large glass windows as guests move through the lobby.
“That’s the reception area where you checked in,” Esha says. “Guests usually gather there for dinners, wine tastings, and evening events.”
Beyond it, the land dips further, opening into long rows of vineyards that run down the valley in neat, endless lines.
And further down, near the lowest terrace, a circular training arena comes into view. I can see a horse moving across the sand in controlled, powerful strides, its rider guiding it with finesse. Just beyond it stands a long wooden stable, stretching along the edge.
“That’s our horse training arena and stables,” Esha says. “But that’s restricted property. That area isn’t open to guests.”
Michael follows us inside the cottage, his eyes sweeping every corner, checking for any hidden exits. I ignore him and focus on Esha instead, who prattles on about extensions and services.
“If you need anything at all, Miss Vardhaan, dial #210 and I’ll be here immediately to assist.”
“I’ll remember that,” I reply, smiling.
