Royal Vs Rebel (Royal #2: Book 1)

8

-• everything about fashion •-

"Fashion is not just clothes. It's a lifestyle." Radhika enunciates, entering a book and stationery store on the first floor. Dimly lit under the hues of golden lights, the mahogany shelves stacked in aisles glow. She takes the King of Jaigarh and his not-so-tiny entourage towards the magazine and booklet section, revolving the round display racks to show off the odd coloured magazines shelved neatly. She picks up a few, stashing them on top of each other before moving ahead. "I think it's necessary to understand our competitors before thinking of beating them, don't you think so?" She smiles widely over her shoulders, her shiny black hair swishing elegantly in the air.

Yuvraaj concedes with a nod.

From the moment he had stepped inside the shopping mall, he has been feeling out of place. Like a bunny plucked from his fluffle and shoved in the middle of wild wolves. People don't rush here, they stroll. They talk in loud voices, move in groups, laugh openly and don't necessarily worry about missing an appointment on their schedules. He's not sure if they even follow a schedule. Those who don't live disciplined lives always suffer managing time, like half of his siblings, like half of the world. It's one of his pet peeves. Watching people take something as precious as time lightly. Like they don't have only one life to live. Would you not want to make the most of that one opportunity you have? Yet people waste it by coming to such places built solely to benefit capitalism and splurge on materialistic needs.

"And these books-- Agastya, will you please carry these for me?" She turns to the young man dragged in unwillingly into their unplanned field lecture, and dumps the heap of magazines in his arms without waiting for his response. Agastya shoots his brother a stinking glare, hugging the magazines tightly so they don't accidentally slip.

It's not that he could be at his University instead. No, he's glad he's not there. He'd rather stab his ears than listen to some middle aged man with a beer belly go on and on about infinite articles and IPC sections. If he had an inkling of what public servants had to go through to be where they are now, he'd have been the most model citizen of the country. But this is not what he meant when he hoped for a break. A day out with the most insufferable man of his life? People like his eldest brother are only good to praise from afar, from near they're a catastrophe to deal with.

"This is sort of a dictionary. The fashion lingo you mentioned in the mail last night?" She glances towards Yuvraaj, showing off the front cover of the thick book, "this will help you understand it." She drops it in Agastya's arms. He huffs. "And this is all about the evolution of fashion." She pulls out a new maroon book, thick like a block of wood, heavy as the same. "It traces the fashion from all around the world starting from the earliest sixteenth century to the late 2010s." Dropping it to the already huge heap, she moves forward.

Agastya struggles to carry everything all at once. Wasn't he brought here to help? Is this all his help was limited to? Is he being reduced to a carrier?

"You carry some too!" He stops in front of his brother, looking up at the man demandingly.

Yuvraaj sidesteps him, following Radhika to the next shelf.

Agastya throws his head back, groaning softly.

"It's okay, I'll carry them." Zoya volunteers.

She grabs a few books from the pile, releasing him of half the weight. Agastya sighs in relief. "Thank you. It felt like my arms were going to fall off." He clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, shooting his brother a glare. He watches in bewilderment as his brother listens to all the complicated nonsense the girl spews out to him. "What's gotten into this man? Since when did he start to care about fashion?"