The golden morning sun filtered softly through the heavy curtains, replacing the tense shadows of the night. A sharp, muffled noise woke Rajveer. He had fallen asleep right there in the chair beside the bed, his arms folded and his head resting on the mattress near her hand. He sat up instantly, his dark eyes snapping to the bed, but the sheets were empty.
A sudden coughing sound from the attached bathroom gave him an immediate answer. The doctor had warned him that the strong sedatives and the antidote could induce vomiting as her system purged the remaining toxins, which was actually a very good sign.
A moment later, Devika stumbled out of the bathroom. She was vigorously rubbing her face with a soft white towel, her eyes still half-closed against the morning light. Without a single word, she threw herself onto the bed, face-first into the pillows.
Rajveer let out a quiet breath of relief. He leaned over, his long fingers gently stroking the silky waves of her tangled hair. Devika shifted, peering up at him from the corner of her eyes, and a massive, genuine grin broke across her face. She was still noticeably pale, but her smile was entirely natural now, completely stripped of the rigid, professional mask she had forced herself to wear the previous night.
"Good morning!" he greeted her, bending his head slightly to catch her gaze.
"Good morning, 'Sweetheart'," she corrected him instantly, her voice raspy but playful as she used her fingers to make emphatic air quotes around the word.
A genuine, warm smile broke across Rajveer's face. He matched her energy, repeating it smoothly. "Good morning, Sweetheart!"
Devika's grin widened into a triumphant beam, her chaotic energy instantly attempting a comeback. "Good morning, handsome! Theek se soye nahi aap, humne dekha! Aao aur so jao!" she cheered, her fingers grabbing the fabric of his shirt's sleeve, trying to drag and pull him down onto the mattress beside her.
Rajveer simply shook his head in a gentle refusal. Instead of pulling away, he leaned down closer into her space, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss right against her forehead to check her temperature.
The unexpected intimacy hit her like an electric shock. The bold girl froze instantly. Her ears flared a brilliant crimson red, and her wide smile melted into a deeply flustered, shy curve.
"Theek thaak?" he asked her softly, a dark, incredibly captivated smirk playing on his lips as he deliberately admired the powerful effect his simplest touch had on her.
"Theek thaak!" she replied in a quiet, breathless murmur, her eyes suddenly darting down to interest themselves in the embroidery of the pillowcase.
Rajveer reached up, his thumb brushing a stray curl away from her blushing face. "Hum naha ke aate hain. Phir yahin khana laa denge. Aap letiye. Ok?" he ordered her, his voice shifting into a strict, protective tone.
"Ok!" she whispered softly, still looking down, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs as she listened to the commanding, caring rhythm of her prince.
---
When Rajveer stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing his damp hair with a fluffy white towel, his dark eyes instantly snapped to the bed. It was completely empty. He stopped mid-motion, letting out a long, exaggerated sigh of pure defeat. His mother had been absolutely correct—this magnificent, stubborn woman simply did not know how to rest!
Downstairs, the atmosphere in the royal dining hall felt just like any other morning, but with an underlying layer of hyper-vigilant tension. Every single sibling and elder was staring at Devika with deeply worried eyes, desperately trying to match her chaotic, bubbling energy with forced smiles and shaky teases. Her face was noticeably pale, and her fingers were subtly shivering as she tried to arrange the serving bowls, but she was still hopping and dancing around the table in her usual, manic cheerleader manner as if she hadn't just survived a lethal dose of toxin the night before.
Rajveer walked into the room, his crisp white shirt rolled up to his forearms. He stopped right at the threshold, placing his hands firmly on his hips, his eyes narrowed into a terrifying, strict glare to demand immediate answers from his rogue wife.
Devika frozen mid-hop, catching his icy gaze. She slowly offered him a highly sheepish smile, shrinking back just a fraction.
"Hume acche se yaad hai humne aapko upar letne ke liye kaha tha!" he questioned her, his deep, raspy voice slicing through the sibling chatter with absolute command.
Devika tilted her head, her now-combed hair bouncing as she flashed her sweetest, most angelic smile. "Bas Maa Sa se kuch puchna tha hume, phir upar hi ja rahe the!"
"Puch liya na? To jaiye upar!" he shot back at once, his finger pointing authoritatively toward the marble staircase.
"Are? Ab neeche aa hi gaye hain to nashta bhi kar hi lete hain na," she pleaded, sliding a step closer to him, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Accha lagega, itne handsome insaan ko baar-baar upar-neeche karvayen!!"
She was actively trying to coax him, using her signature bold flirting, but Rajveer remained a fortress. He simply kept his face hardened into a mask of mock-seriousness, refusing to give in to her puppy eyes.
Then, without uttering another single word, Rajveer stepped forward. His hand reached out, gently but unyieldingly wrapping around her tiny wrist. He guided her back to the table, physically pulling out her chair and placing her firmly into her seat. The moment she was settled, he smoothly sat down in his own chair right beside her, keeping a possessive, grounding grip near her hand to ensure she didn't bolt again.
The entire Rathore family watched the display with deep, satisfied smiles, thoroughly enjoying how the cold, silent prince was naturally taking over as her hyper-protective caretaker.
But Devika's restless nature couldn't be contained for long. The exact millisecond the heavy double doors opened and his mother wheeled his father into the dining hall, Devika completely forgot about Rajveer's strict orders. She hopped straight out of her chair like a hyperactive child, broke away from his grip, and ran across the polished floor with open arms to greet her Baba sa.
Across the table, Jai, Vikram, Harsh, aunt and the girls simultaneously grabbed their heads in mock despair, while Rajveer closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in sheer, loving exasperation at the absolute force of nature he had married.
His father smiled adoringly at her, wrapping his arms around her as she hugged him tightly before instantly pivoting into a loud, highly dramatic wail.
"Baba Sa!! Humare pyaare, dulaare Baba Sa!! Pata hai aapko aaj kya hua? Humara phone chheen liya gaya!!" she cried out in mock-sadness, burying her face against his shoulder.
His father played along flawlessly, lifting his hands to carefully wipe away the completely non-existent tears from her cheeks. "Kisne chheena meri jaan ka phone?"
"Ye aurat!" Devika gasped out, spinning around to point a dramatic finger at Maa Sa, who had just taken her seat beside them, watching the performance with narrowed eyes and a knowing smirk. "Ye aurat jo khudko aapki biwi kehti hai, aapke dil mein humse zyada jagah lekar baithi hai... USNE!!!"
The entire family turned to look at Maa Sa with broad smiles and comically questioning eyes. Maa Sa tried her absolute best to maintain a mask of strict, mock-seriousness, but the small, affectionate smile pulling at the corners of her lips completely betrayed her.
"Puchhiye, puchhiye, apni laadli se! Humne kyun chheena iska phone!" Maa Sa argued back, throwing her hands up defensively toward her husband.
"Kyun? Aisa kya kar diya humari phool jaisi bacchi ne? Tum to piche padi rehti ho is maasum ke! Haina beti?!!" His father played along smoothly, rubbing Devika's shoulder, which earned him an immediate, violently dramatic pouted nod from the princess.
Settling herself down onto the polished marble floor right beside his wheelchair, completely unbothered by her fancy clothes, Devika began to eagerly narrate her latest piece of shaitaani.
"Humne to bas is aurat se itna puchha tha, ki agar hum sab ke partners ja rahe hain trip par... haan, halanki humne Vikram ko bhi kaha hai apni girlfriend ko lekar aane, hum aap logon ko nahi batayenge," Devika digressed with a wink.
Instantly, every single pair of teasing eyes at the table snapped violently toward Vikram. Vikram simply closed his eyes, dropping his forehead into his hand in absolute, crushing defeat.
Devika continued her grand speech without missing a beat, "To phir Sugandha ke fiance kyun nahi aa rahe humare saath?! Bas! Itna sa puchha tha, aur ego hurt ho gaya aapki biwi ka! Humare haath mein humara phone tha, chheen liya!!!" she wailed dramatically all over again, hugging the Baba Sa's arm tightly.
"Bahut galat baat hai, bahut galat baat hai!" Jai, Harsh, and even their grandfather chanted in perfect harmony, shaking their heads in mock disapproval at Maa Sa, who promptly glared at them until they cleared their throats and looked down at their plates.
But Baba sa had spent years watching this mischievous girl rule his palace. He narrowed his eyes, a knowing grin breaking across his face as he looked down at her. "Accha? Tumne puchha, inhone mana kiya. Phir TUMNE kya kaha, puri baat to batao!!"
The sharp question made Devika's dramatic wailing clip off instantly. She offered a remarkably sheepish, guilty grin, while Maa Sa let out a loud, exaggerated nod of pure admiration toward her husband for catching the culprit.
"Humne? Batayen?" Devika asked, her eyes suddenly flashing with pure, dangerous mischief.
She stood up on her tiptoes, leaning over the armrest of the wheelchair to whisper something highly confidential straight into his father's ear. Rajveer watched his father's face. Within two seconds, Baba Sa's calm composure completely shattered, and he burst into a booming, uncontrollable fit of deep laughter, his shoulders shaking violently. Maa Sa just shook her head in mock-despair, aggressively stabbing a fork into her breakfast fruit bowl.
"To agar Dadi Sa allow kar sakti hain Maa Sa ko, to vo hum maasumon par julm kyun karti hain!!" Devika continued loudly, basking victoriously in the glory of Baba Sa's absolute, helpless laughter.
His father was laughing so hard he couldn't manage to form a single sentence. He just wheezed quietly, waving his hand to signal her to return to her designated seat before she caused a full state scandal at the dining table.
Devika hopped back happily, her ankles chiming a merry tune as she slid back into her chair right beside a waiting Rajveer. Her face was still pale from the poison, but her eyes were entirely alive, sparkling with the exact kind of chaotic joy that made the cold Crown Prince realize his heart was entirely, completely trapped in her custody.
---
They began to settle in their seats for a few minutes, the younger siblings casting frantic, silent glances across the table. Elbows nudged ribs, and frantic hand gestures flew beneath the table line as they fiercely debated who would be the sacrificial lamb to deliver the news. Finally, the silent consensus landed on Vikram, as always!
Clearing his throat nervously, Vikram leaned forward toward Devika. She was completely lost in her own domestic world, thoroughly ignoring her own weakness as she carefully filled Rajveer's glass with fresh juice and meticulously aligned his fork on the cloth.
"Umm... Bhabhi. Hum log soch rahe the ki... ki kuch dino ke liye postpone kar dete hain trip ko," Vikram said hesitantly, his voice dropping an octave.
Devika's head snapped up in a fraction of a second. Her sharp gaze immediately wandered across the long table, catching the rest of the family members who were all nodding in solemn, protective affirmation.
"Agar humari vajah se kar rahe ho, to bhool jao," Devika replied. Her voice dropped into that rare, quiet, and incredibly strict tone that she rarely used, but was always more than enough to end every argument there and then. She didn't let them argue, turning her attention back to the table to fill another glass with cold water.
"Bhabhi, do-teen din ki to baat hai—" Harsh started pleading, but he was instantly cut off by a sharp, absolute "Nhi" from Devika.
"Khana khao!" she ordered authoritatively, picking up the serving tongs. Desperate for a veto, the siblings immediately turned their hopeful eyes toward Rajveer at the head of the table. Rajveer simply caught their gaze, gave a subtle shrug, and gave a tiny hand signal that clearly meant 'You heard her.' The siblings slumped back, utterly disappointed.
However, the moment Devika reached out to pile a massive, oil-dripping stuffed paratha onto her own plate, Rajveer's hand shot out. He firmly caught her wrist mid-air, stopping her completely. With his other hand, he pulled a steaming bowl of clear vegetable soup—specially prepared by the royal chefs under his strict instructions—and placed it squarely in front of her.
Devika stared at the watery liquid with a mixture of absolute shock and raw disgust. She looked at the bowl, then snapped her eyes up to Rajveer, her jaw dropping. "Hum? Ye khayen?" she asked, pointing a trembling finger at the green broth.
"Ji!" Rajveer replied smoothly, his face a mask of supreme calm as he picked up the silver spoon and placed it firmly into her hand.
"Kyun? Hume bhi parathe chahiye!!" she complained loudly like a petulant child, her dark eyebrows shooting up in defiance.
"Nhi! Ek baat maan li na aapki humne, ab ye baat aap maaniye," Rajveer responded. His tone was incredibly strict, yet carried a soft, deeply husbandly undertone that sent a quiet shiver down her spine.
Before she could form a witty operational comeback, Rajveer turned his sharp gaze back to the younger brigade. "Aur haan! Jai, Avani aur Harsh... zimmedari hai tum logon ki, agar tumhari bhabhi bed se ek second ke liye bhi hili to phir humse bura koi nhi hoga!" he ordered the trio.
The three siblings instantly broke into broad, mischievous smiles, nodding their heads aggressively in delight at their new security detail.
This newfound tyranny left Devika completely astounded. "Hain?!!! Hum pura din bed pe kya karenge?!!!" she replied, almost shouting as she stared at Rajveer as if he had suddenly started speaking a foreign language.
"Aaram karenge. Aur haan, na hi phone, na hi laptop, na hi koi file!" Rajveer declared smoothly.
She argued back, her eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and disbelief, "Humne aaj tak aisa nhi kiya!"
He looked down at her with unbothered calmness, a lazy but unyielding strength in his dark eyes as he tore a piece of his own paratha. "Nayi chize life mein karte rehna chahiye!"
The entire dining hall erupted into a wave of suppressed smirks. Across the table, Jai, Vikram, and the girls were all desperately biting their lips. The unbeatable, stubborn force of the palace had finally met her absolute matching one.
"Aur," Rajveer continued, thoroughly enjoying her absolute, textless speechlessness as he chewed calmly, "trip pe bhi agar aapki tabiyat kharab rahi, to aap aaraam karengi."
"Itna julm is maasum si bacchi par kariyega? Sharam nhi aati!" Devika tried to coax him, leaning closer into his space and putting on her finest puppy-dog eyes.
But Rajveer was a wall. He didn't even blink, replying in a flat, lightning-fast instant, "Haan nhi aati! Paanch minute mein pura khatam ho jana chahiye, varna trip cancel!" He pointed his fork strictly toward the green soup.
Devika's mouth popped open again. She pointed an accusing finger at him, turning her face toward the rest of the family with deeply hopeful, complaining eyes, silently begging for an intervention. But the elders and the siblings merely smiled warmly and signaled back with their eyes: 'You heard him!'
Realizing she had been completely outmaneuvered in her own dining hall, she let out a massive, dramatic huff that bounced her hair. She aggressively grabbed the silver spoon and began drinking the vegetable soup, her nose tightly scrunched in absolute misery with every single swallow.
Rajveer watched his stubborn wife through the healthy broth out of the corner of his dark eyes, a small, incredibly proud, and smug smirk finally breaking across his face.
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