𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧

04⚚ Patience

Author POV:

"AMAIRA, YOU ARE SO DONE TODAY!" Viraj shouted, storming down the stairs with powder still dusting his hair and face.

But he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw all three of his brothers standing there, forming a protective wall in front of Amaira, who stood behind them with the most innocent look on her face.

"Look, bhaiyyyaa!" she wailed, her voice dripping with fake distress.

"He keeps shouting at me, and I haven't even done anything!" She pouted, even managing to squeeze out a tear as she glanced up at Gaurav.

"Please take him away before I complain to the crown prince and get him punished," she sniffed, flashing Viraj a victorious smirk behind their backs.

Gaurav folded his arms, shooting Viraj a look that was equal parts amusement and warning. Rithvik sighed, stepping forward.

"Princess, please don't do that. You know how your highness is when it comes to punishments. I'll talk to Viraj, alright?"

"But bhai—" she started, putting on her best pleading face.

Ash stepped in this time, his voice soft. "Please, princess. Just let it go this time."

Amaira huffed dramatically, crossing her arms. "Fine," she muttered before tossing her hair over her shoulder and heading to the garden to paint.

Another plan down the drain.

It has been three days since Viraj moved to her home. She was hating every single second of this arrangement, and nothing she tried to send Viraj away seemed to work.

Every time she complained to his brothers, they'd just end up saying "please," and somehow, that was all it took to make her heart melt.

Still, she smiled to herself, replaying the look on Viraj's face when he had discovered what she'd done with his hair dryer.

Well, Our princess here just poured an entire bottle of baby powder inside it, and after his shower, he had turned it on, only to have a cloud of powder blast into his hair and face.

Just thinking about it made her grin as she set up her paints in the garden.

Meanwhile, Viraj was left grumbling to himself, enduring every one of her antics in this past three days. He had started calling her 'vixen' in his head because she truly is one—but only for him.

It had been three days since he moved into her chambers, and though he was still driven by his mission, he'd observed enough to know one thing: Amaira was a ray of sunshine, loved by everyone in the palace.

She was kind, considerate, and generous—to everyone except him. Yet, despite her warmth toward others, it hadn't changed his stance.

In his mind, she is still a royal, and therefore, still his enemy.

But one thing was clear—she was one royal vixen he'd have to keep a close eye on.

Viraj's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sharp twist to his ear.

"Ahh—bhaiii! Leave it, leave it! Ouch, it's hurting!" he shouted, turning to see Rithvik glaring at him.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop bothering her?" Rithvik said, giving his ear one last painful twist.

"And stop calling her by name! She is the princess of this kingdom, for godsake."

Viraj sighed in irritation as Rithvik finally released his ear. "She's the one who poured powder in my hair dryer. Look at my face and hair!" He pointed, still covered in traces of white powder.