Prithvi... [Volume 4]

Chapter 105

Rajiv knew his father was giving him pertinent advice. However, his mind was far away.

This job had been a mistake. He should not have succumbed to the pressure exerted by his family, especially his father. Rajyavardhan Singh was an awful human being, and it was demeaning to keep bowing to him and to be at his beck and call throughout the day. Even this dinner with his father had required the jerk's special permission.

The old man was too depressed at the moment to be his beastly self, but the good days weren't going to last, Rajiv pondered sullenly. He needed to leave this job and look for something better. The money might not be great, but at least his days wouldn't oscillate constantly between boredom and humiliation.

"Rajiv," his father said harshly.

"Yes, I'm listening," he grumbled, vacantly studying a puddle of water on the pavement.

"Look up, you idiot," Manohar hissed, shocked and terrified. "It's the prince. He's coming towards us. Keep your eyes lowered. Don't speak until you're spoken to. And be extremely respectful and cautious," he dictated.

Flabbergasted, Rajiv glanced up and saw the tall and well-built young man approaching them unsmilingly through the crowd...the youthful appearance in stark contrast to the icy severity of bearing...

He had seen photographs and heard many tales from his father and the palace guards. While he was confident that the anecdotes were largely fabricated, they had helped him construct an image of the prince. But nothing of what he'd seen and heard had prepared him for the experience of seeing Prithvi in person. The figure in his imagination was a shabby and puny imitation of the actual person, Rajiv thought with amazement bordering on fear.

From force of habit, he lifted the phone and began clicking photos.

"Stop it! Don't do that," Manohar chastised, barely moving his lips.

Rajiv looked at his father, alarmed by a suppressed emotion in the latter's voice. Only then did he realise that his dad was rooted to the spot in terror. He looked quickly at the fair visage of the fast nearing prince but didn't see anything that warranted such an extreme reaction.

Prithvi halted in front of the two men

Unembarrassed for once, Rajiv bowed along with his father.

"Your highness, I'm honoured to see you here," Manohar said shakily.

"Why? Do you live on this pavement?" Prithvi enquired.

As Manohar flailed about for an coherent answer, Prithvi glanced at Rajiv. "Can I have a look at the pictures?" he asked.

"What – oh – yes, yes, of course," Rajiv said zealously, his phone nearly falling out of his hands because of excitement.

Prithvi dropped the phone on the pavement and stomped on it with a casual brutality, drawing startled looks from passerby.

Dumbfounded, Rajiv looked at the wrecked instrument. "You broke it," he said blankly.

"My bad. I should have shoved it up your ass," Prithvi said nonchalantly. "And that is what I'll do next time."

It was the calmness of the threat that shook Rajiv. Under usual circumstances, he would have been hopping mad at the perpetrator. But he wasn't angry at all now...only thankful that it had not been worse.

"I'm sorry," Rajiv said hurriedly. "It won't happen again."

Grateful that his son had not received a thrashing, Manohar beseechingly said, "Please forgive him, your highness. This is my son – Rajiv."