𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧

58⚚ One lifeline

Author POV:

Gaurav cracked his neck with a slow roll and flexed his hands, the bones in his knuckles popping as he took in the sight of nearly a hundred armed men.

He didn't flinch—not even a blink of hesitation. If anything, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. After all, he'd trained almost a thousand guards for this kingdom—men better, sharper, more disciplined than the ones standing before him now.

He wasn't a monster like Viraj, no. He didn't have that terrifying rage or that godlike unpredictability Viraj carried into battle. But what he did have was unwavering resolve—a fire forged from years of protecting one person.

His little sister.

From the moment she was thirteen, from the day he saw her sitting under a tree with sad eyes, Gaurav made a silent promise: no harm would ever touch Amaira while he breathed. That promise echoed louder than the roar of swords clashing.

Behind him, he heard Amaira's voice—casual, almost amused.

"Was this the interval bang you were talking about, bhaiyya?"

He turned slightly, flashing her a smirk that matched hers. "You wanna see my real side, little one?"

Amaira raised a brow with a teasing smile, nodding. She had her arms protectively wrapped around Ruhi, but her eyes sparkled with excitement.

Ruhi, on the other hand, was stunned. Wide-eyed. Starved, exhausted, barely able to sit straight—but none of that mattered now.

Because right in front of her, her long-time crush, was about to take on a hundred men. Alone.

Shirt slightly torn, jaw set in focus, and that faint smirk? She gulped.

Food? Sleep? Pain? all seemed too Irrelevant for her.

Amaira noticed the sparkle in Ruhi's eyes and chuckled softly, gently patting her head. "Eyes on him, not on the pain," she whispered.

Even the shadows seemed to acknowledge the moment. In silent understanding, they stepped back just enough to create a small viewing gap—still forming an impenetrable shield, but giving their princess and Ruhi a front-row seat to the storm that was about to be unleashed.

And Gaurav stood at the center of it all. Calm. Ready. Because hurting his sister, threatening his people, touching even a strand of Ruhi's hair—those were sins no man would walk away from.

He slowly lifted his hand and signaled Bhageera, whose face remained emotionless as he stepped forward.

Without hesitation, Bhageera gripped the hilt of the sword still embedded in Kaushik's leg and yanked it out mercilessly. Kaushik let out a blood-curdling scream, body jerking as fresh blood soaked into the marble beneath him.

"Take him to the Black Room," Gaurav ordered, voice cold and detached. "Starve him. Don't let him see the light of day... not until Viraj pays him a visit."

Bhageera gave a curt nod and dragged Kaushik by the collar, pushing him out through a side passage before vanishing into the shadows.

The soldiers of the Northern Kingdom, seeing their prince being taken, roared and surged forward in a blind attempt to protect him.

But they didn't get far.

The first man who dared to move had barely lifted his sword when his body was flung backwards like a ragdoll, crashing into the stone wall with a bone-shattering thud. He slumped to the ground and didn't move again.

Everyone blinked.

What just happened?

Gaurav didn't even glance back at the others. He simply dusted off his fist with a flick, cracking his knuckles as he stepped forward with measured calm.