ADHVAY'S POV

After making sure Myra was settled in her room, I still couldn’t get myself to rest.  I headed to the medical wing, where Rudra uncle and the guards were being treated. The air was heavy with the sharp scent of antiseptic mixed with the metallic undertone of dried blood.

It was quiet, but not the peaceful kind—rather the quiet that only follows after violence, when everyone has survived but the body still remembers the fear.

Rudra uncle sat on one of the beds, a clean bandage wrapped neatly around his forehead. Even with the wound, his posture was straight.

“Rudra uncle, are you alright now?” I asked, stepping closer.

He bowed his head like nothing happened. “Yes, Prince Adhvay,” he responded, voice steady, as if the bandage was merely decoration and not evidence of the hit he had taken.

Before I could speak further, the doctor stepped in, wiping his hands with a cloth. “He needs rest,” he said, directing his words at me. “The wound is deep. At least one month of recovery. No stress. No physical strain.”

I acknowledged him with a nod and a muted, “Thank you".

“No need, Adhvay,” Rudra uncle immediately protested, attempting to straighten further. “I can still serve. The palace needs full security—”

“Myra is here now,” I interrupted, letting my tone remain calm but final. “And you are getting old, uncle. So take the rest I’m giving you. One month, dismissed.” The slight sarcasm softened the edge of the command.

"But_"

He opened his mouth again to argue, but he never got the chance.

My father walked in.

The room shifted— because of his presence. The silence grew sharper. Every guard straightened instinctively. Spines aligned and Eyes lowered. The space recognized authority long before any voice spoke.

“Your Majesty,” Rudra uncle attempted to bow, but my father placed a firm hand on his shoulder, preventing the movement.

“You will rest, Rudra,” my father said, his voice deep but steady. “You have served this family with honor for too many years to count. Return to your post only when your health is fully restored. Until then, this is an order.”

There was no room left for the argument. It's final.

I could see the acceptance in Rudra uncle’s eyes, not defeat.

My father looked at me next. “Where is Myra? I need to speak with her.”

“In her room, nannagaaru ( father),” I replied.

He nodded once and began walking. I followed.

We entered her room quietly.

As expected she was awake , this stubborn woman won't listen. She was sitting upright on the bed, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her face was pale, her lips slightly colorless, and sweat clung to her forehead.

“Myra,” my father spoke.

She stood immediately. Too quickly. A wave of dizziness crossed her eyes—I saw it. Her hand tightened around the bedframe for stability, but her face showed the weakness. I could feel my hand twitch, rising halfway before I forced it to lower again.

“Yes, Your Highness,” she said, her tone even, her expression carved from stone, the same unreadable mask she always wore.

My father stepped closer. “What you did today was exceptional. You acted with courage and loyalty. You protected my son.” His voice carried recognition— warmth and respect. And coming from him, respect was greater than praise.

A warmth of pride spread through my chest—my woman is strong. And she is mine.

“It is my duty, Your Highness,” Her gaze did not rise, her voice did not soften.

“Take care of your health,” my father said. “And if you require anything, do not hesitate to ask.”

She nodded once. “I will, Your Highness.”

My father turned and left but She didn’t look at me.

Even though I had been holding her not long ago, her forehead burning against my chest,  her fingers curled unconsciously into my shirt like her body trusted me even if her heart didn’t want to.

And now she stood there, pretending I was simply another presence in the room.

The distance between us wasn’t measured in feet.

It was measured in everything we didn’t say.

I am already missing her touch.

Damn.

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My father left for Delhi that evening. Something concerning political funds. Before leaving, he looked at Myra once and told her he would return in two days. The moment the door closed behind him, the palace suddenly felt  quieter…and mine to navigate the way I wanted.

I didn’t leave Myra’s room.

She didn’t like that. She didn’t say it directly, of course—she didn’t have to. She communicated with silence, with the way her eyes refused to land on me unless I spoke directly to her, she was trying extremely hard to pretend my presence didn’t make the air feel different.

I just sat on the chair beside her bed and watched her try to ignore me. I didn’t need conversation, I didn’t need permission. I just needed to be near her.

That was enough.

When I called for dinner to be brought up for both of us, the helpers looked at me like I got attacked on head in today's fight.

Because there is no way, I  eat in someone else’s room. I never sat near someone while they eat. I never cared. But if it was for Myra, I didn’t think twice.

“Myra,” I said, leaning back in the chair lazily as if I had all the time in the world, “the soup wouldn’t be offended if you tasted it, but I will be offended badly”

She glared. Actually glared. Eyes sharp, eyebrows drawn, lips pressed together in a way that for some reason made something unsteady shift inside my chest.

“I don’t need to be fed like a patient,” she muttered.

“You don’t,” I agreed easily. “But you do need to stop pretending you’re not burning up.”

She looked like she wanted to throw the spoon at my head. Or maybe a fork.

The thought made me smile.

I made her take her medicines. Even though she did it , her eyes were full of silent curses aimed directly at me. Every time her irritation grew, I just smiled at her , she looked cute when she was angry.

When she finally finished eating, she looked at me and said flatly , "Prince Adhvay, it is late. You can leave now."

I blinked once.

How rude.

“No” .

Her head snapped up. “No?”

“I want to sleep with you ,”

I replied, and before she could explode, I walked to the couch and dropped down onto it with my arms spread out, legs relaxed, like I already belonged in that room. “So get used to my face.”

She looked furious, stunned, offended—and painfully adorable.

“Excuse me, what?”.

I didn’t look away. Didn’t explain. No regrets.

“ You heard me right"

Her jaw clenched hard enough to break the stone.

“Relax, little storm,” I added with a slow, lazy smile. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

If looks could kill, I would have been assassinated on the spot. She had this fire—rage layered eyes and I was staring into them only to realize, I was addicted.

“I am completely fine. You can go now, Adhvay,” she said, widening her eyes slightly, her voice low, trying to intimidate me.

But I'm a king, I won't get scared that easily, but her eyes are driving me fucking insane.

I stood slowly and walked toward her. She stepped back immediately, she never did that. This is my first step that made her speechless.

I came close enough that she could hear my breath.

Her back met the wall, like she lost control over her.

I placed one hand beside her head—not trapping, just there.

“You know I can order you, Myra,” I said softly, I can feel her breath getting high and her cheeks turned pink.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “That would be highly inappropriate, Adhvay.”

“Inappropriate?” I repeated, leaning slightly closer, watching her eyes flicker down before returning to mine. “Nothing is inappropriate when your heart agrees with it.”

“It's my job  to protect you, not yours,” she said, staring at the white marble floor rather than me.

“And you can only do that,” I replied, my voice brushing her ear like something forbidden, “if you’re healthy. So yes, I am staying. Right here to take care of you.”

Silence settled—our eyes refused to break contact.

Until she broke it first. Damnit.

“Okay… I will sleep now,” she murmured, and practically escaped to the bed. She wrapped the blanket over herself—every inch, head to toe—like a child hiding from ghosts.

There is a little girl in her__  locked in a cage , with the key hidden somewhere under that mask. But I will find that little girl and give her the wings she deserves.

I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped .

I walked over, pulled the blanket gently down from her face. “You’ll suffocate yourself, you know,” I said, brushing a stray hair away from her forehead. “Sleep. I won’t disturb you.”

Her breathing turned fast—too fast. She shut her eyes tightly, as if pretending sleep would make me disappear.

I returned to the couch and sat, looking at her . She peeked through the blanket a few times.

Eventually— her body settled and slept.

I could watch her  like this my entire life and never regret a second of it.

Fuck . This is bad idea. Until now I wanted to be in the same room with her, but now wanted to crawl to that bed and wrap my hands around her , keep her close and make this distance disappear....

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