Sunlight filtered gently through the embroidered curtains, casting golden patterns across the royal bedroom. The palace was slowly waking, but inside this room — it was peace.

Mayuri stirred first.

Wrapped in warm sheets, her head rested on Veer's shoulder, her hand still resting over his heart. His arm was draped protectively around her waist, anchoring her to him as if even in sleep, he didn't want to let go.

She watched him sleep for a moment — the rare calm on his face, the faint smile that tugged at his lips, and the way his breathing matched hers now, like they were tuned to one rhythm.

Last night hadn't been about desire. It had been about healing.

It was the first time someone had touched her like she mattered — not as a possession, not as an obligation, but as a partner. As Mayuri.

Carefully, she moved to sit up, pulling the satin wrap around herself. Her feet touched the cold marble just as a tiny knock echoed on the door.

Before she could react, Veer's eyes fluttered open. "Aryan," he mumbled, already sitting up. His instincts as a father kicking in faster than any kingly sense of dignity.

The door creaked open, and sure enough — there he stood. Hair messy. Pajamas crumpled. Eyes sleepy.

"Mama?" Aryan rubbed one eye, holding his favorite stuffed elephant.

Mayuri smiled and walked to him, scooping him up with practiced ease. "Why are you up so early, my little prince?"

"I had a dream," he mumbled into her neck. "You weren't there."

Veer stepped forward, wrapping his arms around both of them from behind. "We're both here, champ."

The three of them stood in that embrace — a perfect circle. Complete. No throne. No weight. Just three hearts, quietly beating as one.

They spent the morning wrapped in comfort — Aryan snuggled between them on the bed, asking questions about clouds and tigers and why grown-ups whispered when they thought he was asleep.

Mayuri made coffee herself, sending the staff away. Veer sat on the couch with Aryan in his lap, teaching him how to whistle — terribly.

And when Mayuri returned with coffee mugs, she leaned against the wall, smiling at the picture in front of her.

This was her family.

Not because of a crown. Not because of fate.

But because they had chosen each other.

That morning, Mayuri posted a second picture. A simple one — Aryan sitting on Veer's shoulders, both in pajamas, both giggling.

The caption read:

"Home is where laughter lives."

The post exploded online again. Not for the royalty. But for the warmth. People called it "The New Kind of Fairytale" — not grand balls or dramatic declarations, but soft mornings, sleepy eyes, and unspoken love.

Mayuri's inbox was flooded with messages — women writing that her strength inspired them, men saying they wanted to be better partners and fathers.

But Mayuri didn't post it for the world.

She posted it... for herself.

A reminder that after all the heartbreaks, she had finally found peace — in giggles, in coffee, in the soft morning light...

And in the arms of the man who never asked her to change.

The anticipation was electric.

For the first time in the royal family's long and closely guarded history, the newly married King Veer Singh of Udaipur and Queen Mayuri Pradhan Singh were appearing on national television — not for an announcement or political event, but on a popular prime-time reality talk show known for laughter, chaos, candid confessions, and a sprinkle of harmless gossip.

As the iconic theme music played, the audience erupted into cheers. The camera zoomed in to the golden set adorned with regal cushions, crystal chandeliers, and an elaborate floral arch designed especially for the royal couple.

The host, a charming woman in her forties known for her playful jibes, stood center stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, tonight — we have royalty with us. But not the stiff kind, oh no. Tonight, we have the couple who made the world believe in modern fairytales."

The applause roared louder as Veer and Mayuri entered together, hand in hand.

Mayuri looked stunning in a sleek navy saree with silver embroidery, her hair pinned to the side, wearing no crown — just confidence. Veer, beside her, had traded his formal sherwani for a black bandhgala with the first two buttons open, a rare rebellion for a king who usually oozed stoic elegance.

They sat down on the iconic red velvet couch, side by side.

The host leaned in immediately. "First of all — HOW are you both this good-looking? What do you eat? Royal fruits? Heaven's rice?"

Mayuri laughed, instinctively resting her hand over Veer's. "Well, he survives on royal patience. And I... on drama and tea."

The audience howled.

Veer chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "She's not wrong."

The show kicked off with rapid-fire questions — and it didn't take long for the flirtatious side of the couple to surface.

Host: "Veer, who said I love you first?"

Veer: "I didn't say it. I acted on it."

Mayuri: raising an eyebrow "You mean you kissed me before even asking?"

Veer: blushing "...I had permission."

Host: to audience "Did you see that blush? A KING blushed. We have history, people!"

The studio roared with laughter and applause. Mayuri covered her mouth in amusement, and Veer tried (and failed) to keep a straight face.

When the host brought out a segment titled "Royal Revelations," the questions became more mischievous.

Host: "Who is more jealous?"

Mayuri: pointing to herself immediately "Oh me. No doubt."

Veer: "She once glared at a flower girl."

Mayuri: "She was trying too hard! Also... she winked at you."

Host: "Your Majesty, is this true?"

Veer: smiling shyly "I honestly thought she had dust in her eye."

Cue another explosion of laughter.

The games continued. The couple had to draw each other's faces in under ten seconds. Mayuri's sketch made Veer look like a grumpy lion. His sketch of her, surprisingly sweet, resembled a cartoon princess.

She looked at it and paused. "I think I'll frame this."

Then came the surprise moment.

The host handed Veer a guitar. "I heard from someone close to the palace that His Majesty plays."

The audience held their breath.

Veer resisted. "No, no. I'm very out of practice—"

Mayuri leaned over, whispering something in his ear.

He sighed. Then smiled.

A moment later, he strummed a familiar melody. It was soft, raw, imperfect — but soulful. And he sang a few lines in his low baritone voice. Just enough to make the crowd swoon.

Mayuri clapped, eyes shining.

Then she did something no one expected — she reached for a small pair of ghungroos tucked into her purse and tied them around her wrist. She didn't dance, just let her hands mimic graceful mudras, following his music with elegant, fluid gestures — giving a glimpse of the Bharatanatyam dancer she once was.

It was magical.

Unscripted. Honest.

By the time the episode ended, the audience had laughed, gasped, clapped, and even wiped away a tear or two.

Before signing off, the host said warmly, "Tonight wasn't just about gossip or glamour. It was about love — real, shy, teasing, healing love. Thank you, Your Majesties, for showing us that even kings and queens are simply people... in love."

Backstage, as they changed out of their clothes, Veer tugged at her hand.

"You know that blush?" he murmured.

She nodded.

"It was real. Every single time."

Mayuri leaned forward, resting her head against his chest. "And every time you smile like that... the world blushes too."