𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧

68⚚ Future

Author POV:

Bhageera faced the shaken crowd, his voice steady and firm. "Everything is over now. You are safe. Her Highness will address the kingdom once things are settled inside the palace."

He paused for a moment, letting his words sink into the silence. "For now, take your families home. Tonight, forget the blood and remember only this... your queen stood tall, and your king bowed to her."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, like a tide retreating after a storm.

Then, Bhageera turned to the stunned brothers. With a respectful bow, he said, "It's better you all remain in the main palace tonight... Your Majesty, Commander Gaurav, Commander Ashank, Rithvik Bhai, and Daksh. We'll tighten the perimeter until dawn."

None of them said a word. They simply nodded—silent, pale, overwhelmed. Because they knew the truth Bhageera wasn't saying aloud: Amaira would need time. Time to calm the storm she loved. Time to remind Ravan that he is Viraj.

Bhageera caught the flicker of emotion in their eyes—the fear, the worry, the helpless protectiveness. And his voice softened.

"Don't worry," he said gently. "Even if he's lost in his demons... even if he forgets himself for a while—he will never, never, let even the shadow of harm touch his queen. She is the only light left in his darkness. And even his madness bows before that."

A quiet exhale passed between them. Because it is true. 

If there was one thing they all knew—one thing even death couldn't shake—it was that Viraj would die a thousand times before letting a wrong breath near Amaira.

Then Bhageera turned to the young prince still lingering near the steps.

"Prince Rayan," he said, his tone switching to gentle command, "your father is waiting. My shadows will escort you back to your kingdom safely."

Rayan hesitated. "I'll meet Bhai once... just for a moment. Then I'll leave."

Bhageera shook his head, calm but firm. "You can visit again, Prince. But not now. Please... listen to me."

Rayan looked up at him, eyes troubled but understanding. He gave a small nod. "Alright."

And with that, the tension began to ease. Slowly, hesitantly, the crowd began to disperse—still stunned, still whispering, still trying to make sense of the night that felt like a myth unfolding before their eyes.

But deep down, every soul in the courtyard knew—tonight, history had changed. And their Princess and her bodyguard... were the reason it did.

Meanwhile, On the other side of the palace, just beyond the lantern-lit gardens, Amaira walked ahead—her delicate fingers laced with Viraj's.

To any outsider, it might have looked like she was dragging him. But the truth was far from it.

Viraj—no, Ravan—was willingly following her. Like a shadow trailing light. Like gravity yielding to a pull far stronger than rage. Let's be honest, no one could drag this towering hulk of a man unless he wanted to be dragged. And for Amaira, he'd walk through hell barefoot if she asked him to.

She finally stopped near the backwaters beside the Princess Palace. Letting go of his hand, she turned around, standing firmly in front of him with her hands on her hips and a stubborn pout blooming on her face.

Big brown eyes scanned him from head to toe. Her nose scrunched adorably.

"You're literally showered in blood, Vijulu," she said with mock irritation, using the nickname only she dared call him in that tone.