𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧

74⚚ Anticipation

One Month later>>>

Honestly I forgot which month amaira is preggy so lets all think she is now in her 7th month!

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"Bhaiyyaaaa!!"

The loud, drawn-out cry echoed across the marble walls of the palace, bouncing off the tall pillars and making the maids stop in their tracks for a moment before breaking into secret giggles.

Within seconds, Gaurav appeared in the living room, his calm yet amused expression betraying that he already knew who the culprit was. He clasped his hands behind his back, leaned casually against the pillar, and gave a small nod of acknowledgment, lips twitching as he tried not to laugh.

And there she was—Amaira.

Not the fierce, commanding princess who once stood tall against enemies.
Not the graceful queen who carried herself with poise before the people of the kingdom.

No.

This was the adorable, pouting, sulking little sister Gaurav knew all too well.

She sat cross-legged on the enormous couch, her lower lip jutting out dramatically, eyes shimmering with exaggerated annoyance, one hand resting protectively on her baby bump while the other waved around furiously as she complained.

"Your Vi—my so-called husband—has completely forgotten about me!" she declared in the most dramatic tone possible, glaring at thin air as if Viraj were standing right there in front of her.

"I am pregnant, Bhaiyya. Pregnant! And instead of pampering me and giving me strawberries every five minutes, he's roaming around like some royal king handling kingdom matters. As if I matter less than his boring scrolls and meetings!"

Gaurav bit down on his lower lip hard, fighting the smile threatening to break through. He nodded solemnly, as though every word of her complaint was being etched into his mind like scripture.

Amaira gasped and clutched her chest. "Do you know he didn't even notice when I dropped a strawberry last night? A whole strawberry, Bhaiyya! My favorite one!"

"It rolled on the floor, and instead of picking it up and cleaning it for me, your brother—the man who swore vows to me under the sacred fire—laughed and told me to eat another one. Can you believe it?!"

Her eyes went wide with mock betrayal, tears threatening to form, and she hugged a pillow close to her chest, glaring at Gaurav now as though he was somehow responsible for her husband's crimes.

Gaurav cleared his throat, straightened, and nodded again, this time very seriously, his lips pressed tightly together. "Indeed, this is a very grave situation, Cupcake," he said in his most formal voice.

"Your complaints are justified. Your husband's negligence shall not go unnoticed."

That earned him a sniffle and another pout. Amaira crossed her arms, turning her face away with an indignant "Hmph!"

But Gaurav caught the way her cheeks puffed out and the little sparkle of mischief in her eyes, and his heart melted. This wasn't just a queen throwing a tantrum.

This was his baby sister—his cupcake—being her true self without a care in the world, safe, loved, and unapologetically demanding attention.

"Don't worry," Gaurav said, walking closer and crouching before her so they were eye-level. He softened his voice. "Bhaiyya is here. Tell me, what punishment should I give Viraj for daring to forget that his wife is pregnant?"