The heavy oak door of the Pratap Singh mansion clicked shut behind Yuvaan. He had barely taken two steps into the foyer when Angad rushed forward, his face etched with relief.
"Bhaiya! There you are! I was so worried—where were you?"
Before Yuvaan could answer, sharp, clipped footsteps echoed from the grand staircase. Susheela and Vinod descended, their faces thunderous.
"Look at the time a son of this family sees fit to return home," Vinod said, his voice dripping with disdain.
Susheela's eyes raked over Yuvaan with pure contempt. "He has no home training at all. Look at him. I can only imagine the filth he's been wallowing in—probably just crawled out of some brothel." She sneered. "Utterly shameless."
Riddhi and Aakash appeared behind their parents, forming a united, hostile front.
Vinod shook his head with false pity. "But can we blame him? It's not his fault. He never had parents to teach him manners. His father, my poor brother, was taken from us because of his cursed fate, and his mother..." He trailed off, gesturing vaguely upstairs. "Well, she's in no state to teach anyone anything. Who was there to raise him right?"
The cruelty of the words hung in the air. But this time, Angad didn't stay silent.
"If you both were here all along," Angad interjected, his voice trembling with a mix of nerves and courage, "then why didn't you teach him if you believed he was lacking? Or perhaps... perhaps you couldn't instill good morals, since one must have them to instill in others. Right, Mom? Dad?"
Susheela's face purpled with rage. "How audacious!" she shrieked, her hand flying out to slap her own son.
But her wrist was caught in a vice-like grip an inch from Angad's face. Yuvaan held it, his expression cool.
"Aunty, getting hyper over the truth?" he chided softly, a dangerous smile playing on his lips. "It's like a bitter pill. Not everyone can swallow it." He dropped her hand as if it were contaminated. "And since we're talking about values, apart from Angad, what exactly have you and Uncle passed on to Aakash and Riddhi? Arrogance? Hypocrisy?"
Aakash stepped forward, puffing out his chest. "Know your limits, Yuvaan. Otherwise—"
"Otherwise what?" Yuvaan cut him off, his tone bored. "You'll hit me? Oh, come on, bro. You're not qualified."
With a roar of fury, Aakash threw a wild punch. Yuvaan didn't block it; he simply moved his head a fraction, and Aakash stumbled forward, his momentum carrying him crashing into a small side table, sending a vase shattering to the floor.
Yuvaan and Angad looked at the humiliated heap on the floor and couldn't help but laugh.
Riddhi, helping her brother up, shot a venomous look at Angad. "Don't forget who your real family is, Angad. How can you side with him?"
Angad met her gaze squarely. "I know exactly who my family is. And he," he said, pointing to Yuvaan, "is my brother."
Yuvaan slung a casual arm around Angad's shoulders. "Let's go upstairs," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "Before we have to endure any more lessons in 'family values' from the experts."
As they ascended the stairs, they left a fuming, vengeful silence in their wake. Aakash slowly got to his feet, his fists clenched, his pride in tatters. Susheela, Vinod, and Riddhi watched the brothers go, their eyes filled with a shared, bitter resolve.
A silent pact was forged in that foyer. They would teach Yuvaan a lesson he would never forget.
Kiara's eyelids fluttered open, the familiar soft glow of her bedside lamp greeting her. For a moment, she was disoriented, the memory of cold stone and suffocating darkness feeling like a distant nightmare. Then she saw her father, seated in the armchair beside her bed, his face etched with deep worry in the low light.
"Papa?"
"Kiara, beta. You're awake." Vikram leaned forward, his voice thick with relief. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"
"I'm… I'm fine," she said, sitting up slowly. The residual fear was a dull echo, overshadowed by the safety of her own room. "Just a little shaken."
Vikram's expression was grave. "Kiara, I need you to tell me everything. What happened at the palace?"
Taking a steadying breath, Kiara began her story. She told him about partnering with Yuvaan, their argument, and her fall into the chamber. She described the panic that seized her when her phone died, the overwhelming phobia of the dark and enclosed spaces she'd hidden for years. A faint blush touched her cheeks as she recounted how Yuvaan, surprisingly gentle, had calmed her, using his shirt to wipe her sweat and letting her cling to him until the terror passed.
"He was… different," she admitted, her voice soft. "Not his usual arrogant self."
She continued, explaining how he had then miraculously found the exit behind a portrait, carried her out into the main hall, and then… nothing.
"That's the last thing I remember," she finished, shrugging slightly. "I must have fallen asleep. I woke up when you brought me home."
Vikram listened, his face an unreadable mask. Her story, while leaving out the supernatural truth he knew, confirmed his worst fears. Yuvaan had been alone with his vulnerable daughter, had seen a hidden part of her, and had played the hero. He had carried her out of a den of evil untouched, and now she was speaking of him with a hint of gratitude, even fascination.
He forced a calm smile, patting her hand. "I'm just glad you're safe, beta. Get some rest."
But as he left her room, his mind was a storm. Yuvaan had not just saved her; he had strategically positioned himself in her mind as a protector, all while being immune to the holy protections of a Reeva hunter's car. The enemy wasn't at the gates. He was already inside the castle, charming the princess.