ROYAL HIGHNESS

41. pebbles

**Six Months Later** 

Six months. 

Somehow, without either of them noticing, time had slipped through their fingers like grains of sand, weaving itself into something neither of them had planned for—something neither of them dared to name. 

Their bond had flourished into an untamed, effortless rhythm. It was no longer just an unspoken agreement to check in with each other—it was instinct. A habit. A necessity. 

There wasn’t a single day they didn’t talk, be it through texts, calls, or in person. If Amyardh didn’t show up on her set at least once a week, Ovie would complain with exaggerated annoyance. If Ovie didn’t randomly appear at his apartment unannounced, Amyardh would find himself checking the time, wondering when she would barge in. 

It wasn’t just about meeting—it was about *existing* in each other’s space without any pretenses. 

They had their own inside jokes, their own silly rituals. Like how Ovie always stole his coffee even though she preferred tea, just to irritate him. Or how Amyardh made it a point to randomly drop off food for her whenever he thought she was too busy to eat properly. 

And the most dangerous part? 

Amyardh had started *laughing* more. 

Not the controlled, royal smirk he used in public. Not the sharp-edged chuckle laced with sarcasm. But *genuine* laughter—the kind that made his eyes crinkle and softened his usually hard features. 

Ovie was the reason behind that. 

She had wormed her way into his life with her unapologetic presence, breaking through walls he hadn’t even realized he had built. And Amyardh... he let her. 

But he wasn’t the only one changing. 

Ovie had stopped running away from him. 

At first, she had kept a distance, convincing herself that it was just a fleeting attraction, a phase that would pass. But Amyardh—*damn him*—had a way of making her feel seen, of making her feel *safe*. 

And maybe, just maybe, she had stopped fighting it. 

They weren’t just friends anymore. 

They were something more. 

Something unnamed. 

Something dangerously close to *everything*. 

....

**11:30 PM – Ovie’s Villa** 

Ovie sighed in exhaustion as she stepped into her villa, kicking off her shoes near the entrance. The long hours of shooting had drained her, and all she wanted now was a warm shower and sleep. But before she could take another step, Rudr appeared in front of her, his face tensed. 

*"Mr. Phatak ne call kiya tha."* 

Ovie frowned slightly and pulled out her phone from the pocket of her jeans. The bright screen illuminated her face as she checked her call log—five missed calls from *Mr. Dracula*. 

Five. 

She had been too caught up in the shoot to notice. 

*"Oh. Lagta hai maine nahi uthayi toh tumhe laga diya."* She glanced up at Rudr, understanding why he was here. 

*"Haan."* He nodded, still watching her cautiously. 

*"Tumne unke call pick nahi kiye?"* His voice held an edge of curiosity, maybe even mild concern.