𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝟐𝟔.Food Battle

･:*࿔.ೃ⋆❀˚༺☆༻°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Ikshita POV

We were now sitting in a restaurant.

Correction — he was sitting like he owned the place, and I was sitting like someone who deserved a five-star rooftop with a skyline view but was instead... here.

A roadside restaurant.

Not a dhaba, not a hotel — just something in between, with steel chairs, fairy lights that flickered like they had trust issues, and an ambience that smelled suspiciously like burned garlic and testosterone.

And this young man, my new chauffeur, had the audacity — the absolute gall — to call this a "dinner treat."

I wanted a luxury suite, dim golden lighting, imported cutlery. Oh, how much my royal soul wanted.

But no.
Here we were.
Stuck in his definition of a "good place."
It was good.
One single good.
That is too lowercase.

I was waiting for him to return from the counter where he had gone to "order," as if he had some Michelin-star expertise hidden between his stupidly broad shoulders.

A server approached with two steel tumblers of water.

"Madam, sir ne bheja hai."

I blinked. Sir? Sir?

My chauffeur got promoted without consulting me?

Before I could respond, a shadow fell over the table. He slid into the chair across from me, forearms flexing on the table like he was auditioning for a villain role.

His eyes dropped to the water glasses.

"You can drink," he said, tone dripping with casual authority. "It's clean."

I narrowed my eyes. "I wasn't waiting for your permission."

He smirked — that slow, infuriating pull of lips that made my heartbeat do a stupid, traitorous jump.

"Obviously. Princesses don't need permission. They just... wait for someone to pour it."

I sucked in a sharp breath. He was impossible.

"Trust me," I muttered. "I wouldn't wait for you if I were dying."

"Oh please," he leaned back, one eyebrow lifting. "You were two seconds away from sitting on my lap in the car when I hit the brakes. Don't act brand new."

Heat shot to my cheeks. The nerve. The pure, arrogant nerve.

"I was trying not to die, Mehrora," I hissed. "Not trying to get in your pants."

He gave me a lazy, dangerous grin. "That's okay. You can do that now."

I choked on my own air.

The server nearly fled.

I straightened my posture, crossing my legs deliberately, giving him a smile that had ruined grown men.

"Your flirting is cheap," I said sweetly. "Very... road-side."

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice dropping like molten silk. "Good. Because right now, that's exactly where we are." A pause. "And for your information? You look hotter here than you ever would in a five-star."

My breath caught.
My spine stiffened.
My chest tightened in a way I refused to acknowledge.

I hated him.