𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧

82⚚ Little bean

Few Months later.

"Mamu... Sharvi want ice-cweam," the little angel piped up, her tiny hand tugging on Bagheera's sleeve.

Her voice, high-pitched and sugary, carried across the open fields like a melody, and the deadly shadow commander, who once struck terror across enemy lands, was already halfway turned before the words had even fully left her lips.

Without hesitation, Bhageera bent low, gave his niece a small nod, and immediately hurried off to fulfill her wish, as if she hadn't just asked for ice cream, but ordered a royal decree.

The ministers chuckled softly at the sight, trying to hide their amusement. But there was no mistaking it... the mighty Bhageera, feared across battlefields, had no defense against his little niece. One request from her was enough to send him running.

Meanwhile, the lil angel, her chubby fingers clutching the edge of her frock, walked with tiny, careful steps towards a small wooden bench set beneath the shade of a sprawling tree.

The grass brushed against her shoes as she made her way, curls bouncing, crown-shaped hairpin slightly tilted but still glittering under the sun.

It had been a few months since Princess Sharvi's second birthday. She was growing so fast, her words are clearer now, her sentences are longer. Not yet paragraphs, no, but enough to melt hearts with every attempt.

"Sharvi sit... here," she murmured proudly to herself as she climbed onto the bench, her little legs kicking once she sat down.

From a short distance, Amaira's sharp eyes flicked away from the farmers she was speaking to. A soft smile curled on her lips at the sight of her daughter on the bench, her mother-heart always watching even when her duties demanded attention.

She nodded reassuringly to the farmer before returning her gaze to her star for another heartbeat.

Viraj, on the other hand, had all his ministers gathered near. Technically, he was supposed to be at a different venue, but the moment Sharvi tugged his sleeve and pleaded, "Dada, come with mama and me... pwease," there was no chance he could resist.

With those puppy eyes, his one unshakable weakness, he had given in instantly, calling for the council to join them here instead.

Now, while the ministers presented reports, his eyes wandered.

Every few moments, his gaze sought the little figure on the bench. And whenever Sharvi noticed him looking, she would beam, raise her hand high in the air, and wave wildly "Dadaaa!" before turning back to wait for her ice cream.

Viraj's lips curved, the hard lines of his face softening so completely that the ministers almost forgot the terrifying presence of their king.

Amaira caught it too, shaking her head with a knowing smile. "Like father, like daughter," she murmured under her breath.

While waiting for ice cream, Sharvi's wide eyes suddenly caught sight of a bright little butterfly fluttering nearby. Her whole face lit up as she squealed, sliding down from the bench with her tiny legs wobbling but determined, and ran after it, her innocent laughter echoing across the fields.

The farmers who had been bent over with work lifted their heads at once, their tired faces softening into smiles. Their little princess, so carefree, so full of joy, was running around their land, chasing after a butterfly as if the world itself was her playground.

Their hearts warmed at the sight, pride swelling that their kingdom was blessed with such a child.

But fate shifted in a heartbeat.