𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧

89⚚ Complete Family

Few months later.

It was almost midnight in the Kshatriya Kingdom. The moon hung lazily in the sky, bathing the golden palace walls in a soft glow. Outside, the world slept peacefully, comforted by the knowledge that Bhageera and his shadow army guarded the borders... no threat could dare touch them while the mighty king's men were on watch.

But while the kingdom dreamed, the royal palace had two notorious troublemakers wide awake.

From the kitchen came the sound of soft, muffled giggles.
Small, hushed whispers. The faint clink of a spoon.
And then, another round of giggles.

"Well, you all guessed it right," the narrator might have said if the palace walls could speak, "the culprits were none other than the princess and queen of the Kshatriyas themselves."

Inside the grand royal kitchen, lit only by the warm flicker of a lantern, sat two figures — one tall, glowing with the unmistakable aura of motherhood, and the other small, with chubby cheeks and chocolate smudged all over her face.

"Mama, dip it in chocolate syrup and honey together! It tastes sooo good!" little Sharvi whispered excitedly, her tiny hands waving the spoon around like a royal decree.

Amaira, her hair tied into a loose bun, wearing a huge oversized hoodie that barely contained her nine-months-pregnant belly, looked at her daughter with a mouth full of strawberries and the most loving smile in the world.

Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she nodded obediently. "Okay, my little chef," she said, laughing quietly.

Sharvi grinned proudly and handed her mama a strawberry dripping with the messy mixture of chocolate and honey. Amaira took it without hesitation, giggling when the syrup smeared her fingers.

"Thank you, my baby," she said warmly, leaning forward to kiss her daughter's forehead.

Now, if you're wondering where the ever-so-overprotective King Viraj was... well, our dear whipped husband was deep in sleep, finally surrendered to exhaustion after chasing these two brats the whole day.

Earlier that evening, he had practically begged Amaira to rest, saying in his strict "doctor-voice" the one he used whenever he panicked over her pregnancy...

"Baby, no more chocolate or ice cream, okay? The doctor said too much sugar can increase your blood glucose levels and cause gestational diabetes, and that means swelling, exhaustion, even early contractions. So please, just stick to fruits, hmm?"

Amaira had nodded so sweetly back then, promising she'd be 'a good girl.'

And Viraj... poor, whipped man, believed her.

But the moment he started snoring, The mother-daughter duo shared a secret glance and whispered, "Operation Midnight Chocolate begins now."

Now here they were, sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor, a bowl of strawberries between them, chocolate syrup on one side, honey on the other.

Sharvi giggled, feeding her mother another bite. "Mama, don't tell Dada, okay?"

Amaira chuckled, her hand on her belly as the twins inside gave a tiny kick. "I won't, promise. But if he finds out, we'll both run to Bhageera mamu, hmm?"

Sharvi's eyes widened in excitement. "Yes! Mamu will hide us!"
Amaira laughed softly, imagining the poor shadow leader trying to defend them from her angry husband's lectures.

Then, her daughter pouted a little, holding another strawberry. "Mama, you like this? I made it yummy!" Amaira looked at her, heart melting. "I love it, my angel," she said sincerely, taking a bite and pretending to swoon. "Mmm, my baby's magic hands!"