41. AN INVITATION
DIYA
The bedroom feels different at night.
Once the palace quiets down, the silence here feels softer, almost peaceful. The weight of royal duties stays outside these doors, leaving just the two of us in the dim light.
We're lying on our sides, facing each other on the large bed. Only a few inches separate us.
Veeraj rests his head on one hand while his eyes stay fixed on me. His other hand gently cups my cheek, his thumb absentmindedly brushing along my jaw.
I'm trying very hard to act normal. I keep throwing little sarcastic comments at him, hoping he'll roll his eyes or give me one of his usual dry replies.
Instead . . . He just smiles.
Every single time.
Not the rare smirk he gives when he wins an argument.
A real smile. Soft. Warm.
It makes my stomach flip every single time.
"You are being incredibly annoying tonight, Kunwar Sa," I mutter, trying to sound irritated, though even I can hear how weak the attempt is.
I twist the edge of the bedsheet around my finger. "You just keep staring at me like you've already figured me out."
I narrow my eyes at him. "It's unsettling." I point a finger at his chest. "Say something grumpy. One-word answers. Complain about something. Help me believe the stone prince still exists."
A quiet laugh escapes him. It rumbles through his chest, warm and genuine. Instead of answering, he moves closer. The space between us disappears completely.
Before I can protest, his arm slips around my waist and gently pulls me against him.
A small gasp leaves my lips as my forehead lands against his chest.
Just like that every argument I was preparing disappears.
His heartbeat is slow and steady beneath my ear. His arms around me don't feel confining. They feel safe.
Safer than anywhere I've ever known. I don't have to hide my skin here. Or my loud mouth. Or the fact that I sometimes overthink everything.
With him, I don't feel like I have to prove I deserve my place.
After a long, comfortable silence, he speaks. "I have a state function tomorrow evening." His voice is low against my hair. "It's being held at the heritage pavilion." He pauses for a moment before looking down at me. "I'd like you to come with me."
I tilt my head to look at him. "Oh?"
A teasing smile spreads across my face. "What happened, Your Highness?" I raise an eyebrow. "Are you suddenly afraid of politicians and reporters without your executive consultant?" I grin. "Or do you just need someone to hold your hand?"
He chuckles again. Then he brushes a light kiss against my forehead.
When I look back up, he's already watching me with that unfairly soft expression.
His voice drops just enough to make my heart stumble.
"I simply want everyone to see my wife." He chuckles, "and hand holding will be appreciated.
" My brain completely stops working. Heat rushes straight to my cheeks.
"Oh my God."
I push lightly at his shoulder, trying to hide my face. "You are impossible."
"I am not some award you've won." I keep rambling before he can interrupt. "I'm not a trophy. Or one of your royal horses that you proudly show to important guests." I wave my hands dramatically. "And don't think you can just parade me around so everyone can admire your excellent decision-making."
He watches me for a few seconds, clearly enjoying every second of my panic. Then he gently catches my wrist. His thumb slowly brushes over one of the pale patches on my skin.
"Diya."
Just my name. That's all it takes. I fall completely silent.
"I want you there," he says quietly. "Not because I have to." His eyes never leave mine. "Because I want the world to meet the woman I'm lucky enough to call my wife."
My heart practically melts. I look away, knowing my face is probably bright red again.
"Fine," I mumble. "I'll come."
Then I point a warning finger at him.
"But if anyone asks me complicated questions about agriculture, politics, or zoning laws . . . " I narrow my eyes dramatically. " . . . I'm telling the entire press that you willingly drink tea with three tablespoons of salt."
He laughs. A full, rich laugh that fills the quiet bedroom.
Before I know it, he's pulling me close again.
I let myself settle comfortably against him, hiding my burning face in his chest.
Tomorrow I'll step into his world beside him. And for the first time . . . That thought doesn't scare me.
It simply feels right.