The Heir and the Humble

Party Night

As Anika was getting ready, the lead stylist, a woman with sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue, approached her. "The prince has a keen eye for detail, doesn't he?" she remarked, adjusting Anika's hair. "He gave specific instructions about your attire. A wine-colored, off-shoulder lehenga, if I remember correctly."

Anika was surprised. Devraj had thought about every detail? Her heart warmed. "He has a good taste," she replied, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
The stylist chuckled. "An understatement. He's one of the most popular men in the country. Women swoon over him. But believe me, there's more to him than just his looks. He's kind, considerate, and surprisingly down-to-earth."

Anika smiled. "I know," she said softly. "He's more than just a prince."

The stylist raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? Tell me more," she prompted.

Anika hesitated, unsure how much to share. But then, she decided to confide in the woman who was, in a way, helping to create a new image for her. "He's incredibly kind and caring," she began. "He's always looking out for others, even at the cost of his own comfort."

The stylist nodded, her expression softening. "You're lucky to have him, dear," she said sincerely. "He deserves someone as kind and genuine as you."

Anika felt a surge of warmth. It was nice to hear someone appreciate Devraj for who he truly was, beyond the facade of royalty. As she looked in the mirror, she saw a reflection of a woman who was slowly but surely finding her place in this new world.

Just as the stylist was putting the finishing touches to Anika's look, the door swung open, revealing Devraj. His eyes widened in surprise and admiration as he took in Anika's transformed appearance. She was a vision in the wine-colored lehenga, her beauty accentuated by the subtle makeup and elegant hairstyle.

"You look breathtaking," he breathed, his voice filled with awe.

The stylist, a woman with a sharp wit, grinned. "Well, well, Your Highness," she teased, "Looks like my efforts haven't gone to waste."

Devraj blushed slightly, his embarrassment evident. "Please, go. I'll handle it from here," he said, his voice firm but gentle.

The stylist winked at Anika before exiting the room, not without a playful, "Don't ruin my masterpiece, Your Highness."

As soon as the door closed, Devraj turned his attention back to Anika. He walked towards her slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. "You're absolutely stunning," he repeated, his voice low.

Anika felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. She turned to face the wall, her heart pounding in her chest.

Devraj chuckled softly. "Don't hide," he said, his voice filled with amusement. "I want to see you."

Anika hesitated, her mind racing. She was nervous, excited, and terrified all at once.

Devraj stepped closer, his hands gently resting on her exposed waist. "You're safe with me, Anika," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

"You look so beautiful, Anika," he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "I can't wait to show you off to the world."

His words sent a thrill down her spine. She turned to face him, her eyes filled with a mixture of desire and fear.

Devraj cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently tracing her jawline. "You're perfect," he murmured, his voice husky. "I want to kiss you senseless."

Anika's breath quickened. She wanted him to kiss her, to hold her, to make her feel desired. But there was a part of her that was hesitant, scared of what might come next.

"Not yet," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Not before the party."

Devraj's eyes darkened with desire, but he nodded understandingly. "Alright," he said, his voice low. "But don't think you're getting out of this."

Anika smiled, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation. She knew that this was just the beginning, and she couldn't wait to see where it would lead.

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Hey guys,

I hope you like this small chapter. Only Anika and dev...

Do vote and let me know if you want more of Anika and Dev.