𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧

85⚚ Protective

Someone asked MATURE CONTENT and don't worry sweets, I Heard You!

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Viraj walked toward the main palace with a firm determination in his stride, the crisp night air brushing past his face. Dinner time had already passed, but his mind was elsewhere, his focus locked on one thing only.

His sharp eyes caught sight of Bhageera, who as always stood guarding the place where the queen resided. Viraj slowed his steps for a moment, his gaze lingering on the man.

Sometimes he truly wondered how Bhageera managed it all. He is not just the head of the shadows—he is everywhere.

He looked after Viraj's schedule, handled the endless training sessions of the army alongside Gaurav, carried the weight of leading the shadows without faltering, and still... still he never failed to keep his eyes on Amaira.

It was as if protecting her wasn't part of his duties but ingrained into his very being... like a second nature, something carved into his blood.

And on top of all that, the man had time... time to tease, laugh, and play with Sharvi, to be the uncle every child would dream of.

Viraj had caught himself more than once glancing at Bhageera suspiciously, half-expecting to discover ten hidden eyes or ten extra hands, because how else could a man manage all of this without breaking?

He exhaled, shaking off the thoughts, and continued his way toward the main doors.

Out of the shadows, as silently as if he were born of them, Bhageera stepped forward and bowed low.

Viraj rolled his eyes, a scoff escaping him. He patted Bhageera's shoulder with an almost brotherly shove. "I told you a thousand times to stop with these formalities, Bhageera," Viraj muttered, his tone caught between fond annoyance and exasperation.

Bhageera didn't move from his bow. His voice was calm, steady as ever. "It is not formality, my king. It is my respect towards you."

Viraj groaned, throwing his hands slightly in defeat. There was no winning this particular battle. "Fine, fine, have it your way." His eyes narrowed, sharp but amused. "Now... where is your sister?"

At the mention of her, Bhageera's lips betrayed him, tugging into a faint smile. "In the glasshouse," he replied.

Viraj nodded, satisfied. "Good. And did you do as I asked?"

For the first time that evening, Bhageera's composure cracked. He had to school his face not to scoff outright, but the twitch in his jaw gave him away.

"Yes," he answered with clipped patience.

"Little princess had her dinner. I told all our brothers to take care of her for the night, just as you instructed."

A grin spread across Viraj's lips—wide, mischievous, boyish. "And?"

Bhageera's restraint wavered. He let out a quiet, irritated scoff, his tone edged with suppressed disbelief. "And," he said, stressing the word, "I made sure no one will pass the main palace even by mistake tonight. I'll guard the entire grounds myself."

Viraj's grin grew sharper. He leaned forward a little, his voice dripping with teasing arrogance. "And?"

This time, Bhageera actually groaned, his patience snapping. "King," he said through gritted teeth, "I did everything you asked me to. So please, just go already."

But Viraj wasn't done. His cheeky smile only widened, eyes twinkling with mischief as he tilted his head. "Just say it. And?"

Bhageera shut his eyes briefly, silently praying for patience, before sighing so deeply it carried the weight of years. He looked everywhere but Viraj's face, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing his own irritation.