Rags To Royals (Royal #1: Book 1) | ✔

40

-• heist •-

Last night was an opportunity I lost. Instead of asking my father about Virat Rajawat, we found solace in talking about my late mother before I fell asleep. But I don't think I'd change anything about it if I get another chance. It was a beautiful, vulnerable moment for both of us and the conversation felt important, maybe not enlightening in any way, but memorable nonetheless.

"You sure you can handle yourself in that saree. Or should we bring a maid along to help you?" Dad suggests as we pile in the black Mercedes.

Vivaan chuckles.

I smile at the ridiculous but considerate offer. "Dad, I'm volunteering to help around with the school function. How do you think it'd look if I bring an entourage along to take care of my outfit?"

"Spoilt." He nods.

I gape. "I was expecting minted but alright."

He shrugs sheepishly.

I glance at Vivaan whose attention is outside the window. I lean in and cup his interlaced hands, catching his gaze with mine. "You've been distracted lately."

He shakes his head. "I'm fine."

"You sure?"

He nods, holding my hand in his tightly before he looks back outside the window. I feel something is off lately around the house but I can't find a way to figure it out. Everyone's behaving a little reclusive, especially Vivaan. And my heart breaks everytime I see the lost expression on his face. I prefer when his bright ambers glow like the purest of golds, not be dull and gloomy.

My eyes dart to Dad, and I raise a brow at him, wondering if he knows anything.

He simply forces a smile at me.

The school gates come into view and I sigh in defeat, holding the questions for later as I reach to pick my backpack. I sling the strap over my shoulder and kiss goodbye to my father and brother on their cheeks before getting out of the car.

"Tara, wait," Dad stops me when I turn to leave. "C'mon Vivaan, step out for a moment. It's her first time wearing a saree. Let's click some pictures together." He pats the young man's knee encouragingly. I wait patiently until the two get out.

Dad and I click pictures first. Then Vivaan replaces him, before I'm requested to pose solo.

"Tara, hold the end of the saree on your head." Dad suggests when I ask what pose should I do.

"No, Dad, that's so seventies." Vivaan scoffs. "Tara, act like you're walking away and look back with a smile," I nod and turn, glancing over my shoulder with a smile just as a cool breeze slithers past, fluttering the end of my saree like a river of fabric. "Perfect!" He smiles broadly, the shine and sparkle back in his blazing ambers. I feel pumped up seeing his reaction, the huge grin on his face uplifting my spirits as well. "Now face your right, hold your pleats gently and tilt your head down just the slightest. Like you're watching your steps. And smile, okay? But just the hint of it. I want it natural." He instructs, going down one knee as he tries to capture the rising sun behind me as well. "Uhm, now, just smile, toss your hair around, play with the saree a little, I'll try to capture the candids."

He waits for me to play along but I have a hard time looking away from him, my heart a little heavy at the love and affection he expresses so openly among everyone else. No matter how much I hope he never faces any evil or cruelty of life, I know he has seen some bad days in his thirty years of existence. But the fact that he persevered and came out stronger, yet gentler, confident, yet calmer and sustained the good in him through everything speaks a lot about the kind of human he is. To protect the kindness in you for so long, to be so open and accepting about everything in life, including a sister you had no idea about before, feels like he's made of all good things.