𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧

16⚚ Warmth

Vencie POV:

The next four days passed in a blur for Amaira and Viraj. Amaira was caught up with her online classes and assignments, while Viraj busied himself trying to uncover more clues about the secrets lurking in the royal palace, though he didn't find any.

Despite their respective tasks, these four days saw the duo growing closer than ever, their bond evolving in subtle yet undeniable ways.

Bickering remained their love language, a fact that amused everyone around them. Amaira had figured out her feelings for Viraj—she was in love.

But confessing felt daunting, even terrifying, as she didn't want to risk what they already had.

Still, Amaira was confident that Viraj felt the same; it was written all over his face, reflected in his eyes during those moments when he thought no one was watching.

Viraj, on the other hand, remained his stubborn self. He didn't want to admit—or perhaps couldn't accept—the depth of his feelings for Amaira.

Yet, deep down, he knew the truth: he had fallen for her, completely and irrevocably.

He told himself it was just a phase, a distraction from his mission, but his heart had other plans.

Their newfound closeness showed in their little gestures. Casual hugs had become a norm, and small, light kisses—on the forehead, cheek, or even the tip of the nose—happened often.

The brothers noticed but chose not to comment, silently cheering for the two to sort out their feelings and take the leap.

Meanwhile, the entire palace buzzed with activity in preparation for Amaira's birthday, which was just a day away.

Decorations, grand arrangements, and surprises were being meticulously planned to make the day unforgettable.

Early that morning, the king called Viraj into his chamber and gave him strict instructions:
"Do not let Amaira step outside today. I want the decorations to remain a surprise for her."

Viraj nodded, knowing well how stubborn Amaira could be. As he left the chamber, he muttered to himself, "Great, I'm babysitting a vixen today." He didn't know whether to laugh or dread what was to come.

Back at Amaira's palace, she was lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone when Viraj stormed in, hands on his hips. "Vixen, listen up. Today, you're staying indoors. No stepping out, no sneaking out. King's orders."

Amaira raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. "And what if I do?" she teased, twirling a strand of her hair.

"Then you'll face the wrath of this coconut head," Viraj retorted, folding his arms, prepared for the war that was undoubtedly brewing.

Amaira sat up, an innocent expression masking her devious mind. "Challenge accepted, coconut head. Let's see who wins today."

Viraj groaned inwardly. This day is going to be long!

***

"Not like that, Vixen. Your posture is all wrong," Viraj sighed, his patience wearing thin.

Amaira let out a dramatic huff before sliding off the horse. She stomped over to a nearby wooden table, plopped herself down with the biggest pout ever, and crossed her arms over her chest.

This was a scene Viraj had grown used to—a bratty princess trying to get her way and sulking when things didn't go as planned.

You might be wondering what the hell is happening-Well just like she said, Amaira had sneaked out to the royal horse stables, where the lush forest behind the kingdom housed the most magnificent royal horses.