BOOK 1 OF THE UNEXPECTED SERIES
In a world where tradition clashes with modernity, Vaidehi is a modern-day princess bound by society's rigid expectations.
Saransh, a brooding prince with a shadowed past, one he's not keen to reveal. Despite his nobl...
Ik I said this chapter will have the insights about Saransh's past but I started writing the Balcony scene and lost the plot😋. Enjoy reading✨. _________
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Saransh laughs, shaking his head. "I think, just like your brother, I might quit teaching you too."
A pang of guilt hit me. He got hurt because of me. I gave him a small, sad nod, already feeling terrible about it.
"Hey, hey, hey," he called softly, tilting his head to meet my eyes. Before I could react, his fingers brushed against my cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His touch lingered, fingertips grazing my skin as he absentmindedly played with my hair.
"I promise I won't give up on you. You'll definitely learn it one day." His voice was steady, reassuring.
I swallowed, lost in the warmth of the moment. The quiet night, just the two of us, standing on a deserted road under the dim glow of streetlights. The way his eyes held mine, soft yet unwavering—it made my chest feel tight.
"We should go home," I said.
Saransh exhaled and got up, moving toward his bike.
"You're not riding that back home," I said quickly. "You're hurt."
He chuckled, throwing a glance at me over his shoulder. "So who's going to? You?" His smirk deepened. "Pichli baar badi mushkil se bacha, iss baar toh pakka maar hi dogi tum."
(Last time, I barely survived. This time, you'll definitely kill me.)
I shot him an offended look. "Come on, Saransh. You're the freaking prince of this state. Just call someone to take your bike back to the palace and have your driver pick us up."
He let out a dramatic sigh. "It's not needed. I am perfectly capable of getting us back home."
I crossed my arms and glared at him. Silence stretched between us before he finally caved. "Fine." He pulled out his phone and made a few calls.
Within ten to fifteen minutes, a sleek black car pulled up. A man stepped out—tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp features and an even sharper gaze. His presence alone demanded attention.
He nodded at Saransh, who returned the gesture. Then his dark eyes landed on me.
"This is my bodyguard, Jaivardhan," Saransh introduced.
"Good to see you, ma'am," Jaivardhan said, a rare smile touching his lips.
I smiled back. I liked him already. And from the way Saransh's posture straightened slightly, I could tell he held Jaivardhan in high regard.
As I climbed into the car, Saransh handed over his bike keys, murmuring something to Jaivardhan before joining me. We drove back in silence.
Once home, I didn't follow Saransh upstairs. "I'll be right back," I told him, shrugging off my jacket as I made my way to the kitchen.
