ROYAL HIGHNESS

50. she hate me?

Amyardh's POV,

Few Hours Later,

Her warmth was still wrapped around me, skin pressed to skin, our breaths slow and uneven from everything we had just shared. The room was dimly lit by the city lights filtering in through the sheer curtains. The midnight air drifted in with a breeze, causing her damp hair to flutter against my chest as we lay tangled in the bedsheets. My arm was loosely draped around her waist, fingers unconsciously stroking her bare spine. She was silent now, her head resting just beneath my chin, the rhythm of her heartbeat syncing with mine.

I couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was the rush of everything that had just happened—her body, her warmth, her whispered “I’m sure.” I had given in. For the first time, I let my heart, my desires, my soul—all of it—belong to someone else. To her. To Ovie. And she gave herself to me.

We hadn't spoken since. We didn’t need to.

That silence felt comforting… until my phone buzzed violently on the bedside table.

I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to break whatever fragile peace existed in this moment. But something in my gut twisted. I leaned over her gently, careful not to wake her, and grabbed my phone. The screen lit up. My breath caught in my throat.

**Advait:** *"Bhai I am depressed."*

**Advait:** *"I am having suicidal thoughts."*

**Advait:** *"Bhai do something."*

The words punched through my chest like knives. My grip on the phone tightened, my jaw clenched. I stared at the screen for what felt like hours, but it was only a few seconds.

A pang of guilt rose and choked me whole.

What the hell have I done?

I was here, in her bed, skin still flushed from our intimacy… while Advait—my brother, my blood—was on the edge of ending everything. And I’d promised him. Promised him I’d bring her back. Promised I’d help him fix things, that I’d convince her to give him another chance. And now? Now I had betrayed him. Betrayed her. Betrayed myself.

I looked down at her.

Ovie.

She was so peaceful now, still naked in the aftermath of what should have been a beginning. Her eyelashes rested softly against her cheeks, her lips slightly parted. I could still taste her on my tongue. My chest ached.

I shouldn’t have done this.

I shouldn't have touched her.

I slid my arm away from her slowly, trying not to disturb her, but her body stirred as soon as she felt the absence.

“Hmm?” Her voice was soft, drowsy. She turned slightly, still half-asleep. “Where are you going?”

I didn’t answer right away. I just stood, grabbing my clothes from the floor and slipping into my boxers, then my pants. My shirt remained crumpled in my hand as I turned my back to her.

“Amyardh?” Her tone changed now—more alert. “What’s wrong?”

“It was a mistake,” I said, my voice rough. Unfamiliar even to myself.

“What…?” she blinked, sitting up on the bed, the sheet falling from her chest. “What are you saying?”

“I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t have let this happen.” I forced myself to button my shirt, even as my fingers trembled.

Her eyes widened, and she reached for me. “Amyardh, stop. Please don’t say that—”

“Just forget it ever happened,” I cut her off coldly, avoiding her gaze. I couldn’t look at her. If I did, I’d crumble.