Page 59 of Scars and Crowns

"Proper bullying." I huff. "I hope both of you realise that."

Sara copies me immediately. Tiny arms folded. Tiny chin lifted. Entirely unapologetic. "I hardly ever get to bully Mumma." A wicked grin spreads across her face. "I'm enjoying this one."

Yuvaan laughs. Really laughs. The sound fills the room so naturally that I find myself smiling before I even realise I'm doing it. He reaches over absentmindedly, brushing a loose strand of hair away from my face. His fingers skim lightly across my cheek. The touch lasts barely a second. Far too brief. Entirely innocent. And yet . . . My heart forgets how to behave.

I inhale a little too sharply. Hopefully neither of them notices. Unfortunately . . . I glance toward the dressing table mirror.

Sara catches my reflection.

Our eyes meet through the glass. One tiny corner of her mouth lifts.

Oh no. She noticed.

Traitor. Absolute traitor.

Yuvaan either doesn't see it . . . Or very kindly pretends he doesn't. "We're only doing this," he says quietly, still looking at me, "because we want you healthy." His voice softens even more. "If bullying becomes necessary . . . " He shrugs, " . . . then we'll bully you."

I shake my head. "You've both become impossible."

"I know," he says with absolutely no remorse. "I've accepted it."

I look from him . . . to Sara . . . and back again. My daughter, looking absurdly pleased with herself for inventing a brand-new household law. The man sitting beside her, completely united with her against me without the slightest hesitation. Kairav had told me yesterday what happened in the council meeting.

How Yuvaan stood before every senior member and made it very clear that anyone insulting me would be insulting the royal family itself.

I'd pretended it hadn't affected me.

It had.

More than I wanted to admit. Now I look at him sitting here—laughing with my daughter . . . creating meal schedules for me . . . watching me with that same quiet concern that's been constant ever since yesterday—a strange thought settles gently inside me.

I don't think I have any defenses left. Not really. I surrendered pieces of them one after another without even noticing. Somewhere between the rose outside Sara's school. The breakfast he'd cooked with her. The bookshop. The council meeting. The way he held me this morning when I finally stopped pretending I was fine. I don't know exactly when it happened.

Only that sitting here now . . . I can't seem to find the walls anymore.

I lift both hands dramatically. "Fine. You win." I sigh with exaggerated suffering. "I agree to three proper meals." I point accusingly at Sara. "And photographic evidence whenever demanded."

She lets out a triumphant squeal loud enough to shake the room. "I knew you'd say yes!"

Of course she did. Apparently no one in this palace has any faith in my ability to resist them anymore. Least of all me. I look toward Yuvaan. He's smiling. Not the polite smile everyone else gets. Not the careful Maharaja smile. Just . . . Yuvaan.

Soft.

Warm.

Quietly happy.

The sight of it catches somewhere deep inside my chest.

I have to look away before it lingers long enough to undo every careful promise I've made myself since coming back to Devgarh.

YOU CAN STAY

YUVAAN

The bedside lamp casts a soft amber glow across the room, leaving the corners in gentle shadow. It's late, the palace has finally gone quiet, and yet our bedroom is anything but peaceful. Sara is standing right in the middle of the mattress with both hands planted on her hips, looking like a tiny lawyer arguing the case of her life.

Across from her, Anamika is trying very hard to be the responsible parent. Trying being the important word.