𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧

71⚚ Blessing

Is anyone even interested in this book anymore?
Should I just discontinue?

Author POV:

As the entire crowd stood in awe, eyes fixed on the grand grounds where Viraj walked like a force of nature, back in the Princess Palace, time moved at a softer, gentler pace.

Achi completed the final ritual, doing the nazar, waving her hand thrice in front of Amaira to ward off any evil eye, and then placed a small black dot behind her ear, a protective charm passed down for generations.

Her wrinkled lips curved into a fond smile as her eyes welled up, not with sadness, but with pride.

Amaira turned, blinking back her own tears, and wrapped her arms around Achi tightly.

"Thank you for everything, Achi..." she whispered, voice trembling with emotion. "For being there when I needed someone the most... for being my grandmother when I had none."

Achi's hands, weathered and warm, pulled her out of the hug, gently cupping her face. She kissed her forehead with all the tenderness in her heart.

"You've grown up so fast, Princess," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind Amaira's ear. "I'm sure your mother is watching you right now... and I promise you, she's proud. So, so proud."

Amaira's lips trembled into a soft pout. "Then why does it feel like I'm parting with you, Achi?" she mumbled, frowning.

"After a few days, we'll be shifting to the Kshatriya Kingdom..."

Achi chuckled gently, her laughter a balm that soothed the ache in both their hearts. "And I'm going to be there too, Amaira... just as I've always been here. Viraj made sure of it."

At that, Amaira's heart melted completely.

Her Viraj.

How did he always know what she needed... even before she spoke it aloud? How did he love her so deeply, so silently, and yet so loudly at the same time?

He didn't just think of her... he thought of her heart, her comfort, her world. And somehow, he always found a way to protect it.

Achi, sensing the flood of emotions rushing through her princess, gave her chin a gentle flick.

"No more tears now," she said, her voice a warm command. "It's time, Princess. Everyone is waiting."

Amaira sighed softly, nervously toying with the edge of her embroidered lehenga. "Achi... what if I can't dance well? What if I slip? What if everyone laug—"

Before she could finish, Achi gently placed a finger on her lips, silencing her doubts with just one touch. Her eyes were warm, filled with the kind of love that years of care and affection only deepen.

"You," Achi said, her voice low and reassuring, "are the epitome of grace, Amaira. You always have been. Do you know how much our people adore you? How they've watched you grow, admired you, loved you like their own?"

She paused, her eyes misting over just a little as her hand slowly moved to trace over Amaira's belly... a tender gesture filled with both pride and protection. The royal dress, heavy and grand, almost concealed the gentle swell of life growing within her.

"And now... you're not dancing alone anymore," Achi whispered with a soft smile. "You carry a heartbeat inside you, a little piece of you and him, dancing with you every step of the way. There's no greater strength, no purer beauty than that."

Amaira blinked back the tears that pooled in her eyes, heart swelling with emotions too big to name.

Just then, a knock echoed on the door.