𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧

40⚚ Over and Over

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Author POV:

Viraj sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, his body relaxed yet his mind heavy with everything he was about to say. Amaira settled on his lap sideways, cocooned in his arms, her head resting against his chest.

His fingers traced slow, soothing circles on her back, while his other hand remained intertwined with hers, grounding them both in the warmth of their connection.

"Whatever I tell you now, baby, you have to promise me one thing," Viraj murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "Be my strong girl, yeah?"

Amaira hummed in response, playing with his fingers absentmindedly, as if drawing comfort from the mere touch of him.

Viraj smiled softly at the sight, knowing how much she loved being held by him. He took a deep breath and started speaking.

"You know my orphanage story, right?" he asked, his voice calm yet laced with the weight of his past.

Amaira nodded against him.

"Gaurav bhai, Ash bhai were already working in the kingdom by the time they turned eighteen. Rithvik bhai was applying for a post here, and Daksh had just opened his restaurant. Everything was going well," he said, his thumb rubbing slow circles on the back of her hand, "until one day... an old uncle came to the restaurant."

Amaira looked up at him, sensing the shift in his tone, but his face remained blank—expressionless, guarded, unreadable. It made her chest ache.

"He was the one who left me at the orphanage that day," Viraj continued, his voice steady. "He told me to do something I never knew why. That day when he was leaving me at the orphanage, he told me never to reveal my real name to anyone."

Amaira's fingers tightened around his instinctively.

"He told me I had to stay hidden, that my existence alone was dangerous." Viraj let out a dry chuckle. "And the irony is, I didn't even remember my full name properly."

Amaira cupped his face, her eyes searching his for any hidden pain. "So you really are a Kshatriya?" she whispered.

Viraj nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. "Yes, baby. I don't remember much, but I remember my last name—Kshatriya. I don't even remember my middle name."

Amaira's mouth formed a small 'O' shape, her eyes wide in shock. "So that means... you are..."

Viraj simply nodded, confirming what she was thinking. The lost royal prince. The heir to a kingdom that no longer existed. The man who, despite it all, had become her entire world.

Amaira's mind suddenly clicked on something, she cupped his face and said, "Now I remember where I saw that man!" She gasped and jumped off his lap.

"Baby, wai—" Viraj couldn't even complete his sentence as Amaira was already sprinting downstairs.

He cursed under his breath and ran after her, his heart lurching when he saw her about to step on the shattered glass pieces scattered across the living room floor. He moved instinctively, catching her just in time and lifting her off the ground.

"Vixen, be careful!" he scolded, his voice a mix of frustration and concern.

Amaira pouted, looking up at him. "I wanted to show you something, Vijulu."

Viraj let out a sigh, adjusting her in his arms. "Just tell me where it is. You've already destroyed this place—I'll clean it later."

She pointed toward the couch. "There! Take that book and the documents."