AANYA’S POV
Sunlight stabbed through the curtains. Aanya groaned, burying her face in the pillow. Today felt… heavier. Not because of her workload, but because of the strange flutter in her chest whenever her phone buzzed.
A.: Good morning, night owl. Ready for another day of chaos?
Aanya: Barely. Soul negotiates delayed awakening. Coffee required. Chaos unavoidable.
She laughed quietly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Somehow, across oceans, he made her mornings lighter.
Downstairs, family chaos began as usual—plates clattering, cousins shrieking. She typed quickly:
Aanya: Breakfast war imminent. Pray for human survival.
A.: Prayers sent. Also, if anyone tries to attack you, I’ll send backup.
She rolled her eyes but smiled. Backup across oceans… somehow that felt comforting.
While Aanya navigated her office battlefield, Adrian wasn’t idle. The calm, teasing stranger he pretended to be over messages was only a small part of him.
ADRIAN POV
He had spent hours the previous night investigating. Nothing illegal—just curiosity, precaution, and… fascination. He’d traced subtle clues from her social media profiles, emails, and mutual contacts. Small things: mentions of India, city landmarks, cultural references. He pieced together her likely workplace, approximate age, family dynamics.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing. Not obsessive—calculated, protective, and, admittedly, a little mesmerized. Every detail made her more… real. More human. More necessary in ways he couldn’t yet name.
Then his phone buzzed. It wasn’t Aanya.
Prince Lucian Valerian (Adrian’s younger brother):
Still thinking about her?
Adrian froze. Lucian rarely texted directly. Usually, he preferred appearing out of nowhere, sharp as a blade and twice as perceptive.
Adrian: She’s… not what you think.
Lucian: Then explain why your calm, methodical self suddenly turns into a grinning fool every time your phone buzzes.
Adrian’s chest tightened. Somehow, Lucian had noticed patterns in his behavior Adrian himself barely recognized.
Adrian: It’s… complicated.
Lucian: She’s Indian. Unknown. Somewhere across the ocean. And you’re… already tangled.
Adrian scowled but couldn’t deny it. His little secret—Aanya—was now under the sharp gaze of his younger brother.
Adrian: I’m not reckless. I’m careful.
Lucian: Careful doesn’t explain texts at 3 a.m. or that inexplicable smile you can’t hide.
A quiet laugh escaped Adrian. Lucian had a point.
Adrian: Fine. But it stays… under observation. No one in the palace knows. No one should.
Lucian: Of course. But I’ll be watching.
Adrian put the phone down, tension lingering. Protecting Aanya meant keeping her safe from more than just distant oceans—it meant keeping her unknown to anyone who could complicate things.
AANYA’S POV
By the time Aanya reached her small apartment, the exhaustion of the day clung to her like a second skin. Her laptop bag felt heavier than usual, and her shoes had somehow forgotten what comfort meant. She dropped her bag by the door with a thud and kicked off her heels, wincing at the sudden relief.
Her phone buzzed almost immediately. She picked it up, half expecting it to be a mundane work notification—but of course, it wasn’t.
A. Alive?
Aanya’s lips curved into a soft smile, a blush creeping up her neck despite the solitude of her room.
Aanya: Barely. But I survived. Barely.
She leaned against her bedpost, typing slowly, savoring the tiny thrill his messages brought. Her fingers hovered over the screen as if afraid to break some invisible spell.
A. Good. Keep surviving.
Her heart did that strange fluttery thing again. “Why does he do this to me?” she muttered under her breath. He’s just words on a screen… right?
She sat cross-legged on her bed, phone balanced on her knees, her mind replaying their conversation from the morning. The teasing, the comfort, the little glimpses of humor that somehow hit her right in the chest.
Her thumb hovered over the keyboard. She typed, hesitated, deleted, typed again.
Aanya: And that someone honest, you think… might be me?
She almost hit delete again, heart racing. No, too forward. Too much. But somehow, something inside her urged her to send it anyway. And with a decisive tap, it went.
Almost immediately, her phone vibrated.
A.: Yes. Maybe it’s you.
Her breath caught. She couldn’t see him, yet she felt him—somehow, across continents, across oceans. His words made her chest tighten and her thoughts spiral in ways that were both thrilling and terrifying.
She leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling, imagining him pacing on a golden-lit balcony in Valeria, the city sprawling beneath him. Imagining him thinking of her. Me?
Aanya’s inner voice:
This is ridiculous. You barely know him. You’ve never even met him in person. And yet… you feel like… like he knows you.
Her phone buzzed again.
A. I think about you more than I probably should. And somehow… I don’t mind.
Aanya’s fingers froze mid-typing. Don’t melt, Aanya. Don’t melt. She laughed softly, a sound only her room walls would witness.
Aanya: Then let’s steal it. Just for tonight.
Her thumb lingered over the send button. Just a little bubble of peace. Just tonight. Nothing else. Nothing complicated.
She pressed send, and immediately, a soft satisfaction filled her. Somewhere, across oceans, he was reading it. And somewhere, across oceans, he was smiling.
The quiet that followed was almost tangible. She sank into her sheets, hugging a pillow, feeling a strange mix of warmth, comfort, and anticipation. Her heart fluttered with the forbidden thrill of connection, the slow burn of tension that neither distance nor reason could fully extinguish.
Aanya’s thoughts drifted lazily, imagining what it would be like if he were here: a brush of hands, shared laughter, those teasing smirks that made her cheeks heat. No. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Yet her heart refused to listen.
Outside, the night deepened. The city hummed below her window, unaware of the quiet storm of thoughts, emotions, and unspoken words weaving across continents. And somewhere in Valeria, he was thinking of her, too—protective, teasing, and utterly caught in the pull that she had started without even trying.
For tonight, the world was small, soft, and theirs.
ADRIAN’S POV
The night in Valeria was quiet, almost unnaturally so. From his balcony, Adrian could see the city stretching beneath him, a sea of golden lights shimmering against the dark sky. The wind carried a faint chill, brushing against his skin, but he barely noticed. His focus was entirely on the small rectangle of light in his hand: his phone, and the words that had become the tether to someone half a world away.
He leaned against the cool marble railing, thumb hovering over the keyboard as he reread her last message, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. She doesn’t know. She has no idea.
A. Yes. Maybe it’s you.
Adrian’s chest tightened. That simple reply, so casual, yet weighted with meaning, sent a cascade of thoughts racing through him. She trusts me. She’s daring. She’s… different.
He ran a hand through his hair, restless. The city below hummed softly, but to him, it was the ocean between them that made the silence loud. Oceans he could cross in a day, yet the barrier of reality, of identity, made him hesitate. She didn’t know who he really was. She didn’t know he was a prince—someone whose world was laden with danger, duty, and secrets she had no place in yet.
Adrian’s mind wandered, analyzing every word she had sent over the past few days. Her humor, her sarcasm, the little ways she teased him—they weren’t just playful. They were carefully guarded, a shield against the chaos she managed in her own life. And somehow, that shield made her even more captivating.
He typed, then deleted, then typed again. The careful phrasing mattered. He had to keep it light, teasing, protective, without revealing too much. Don’t scare her. Don’t overwhelm her. Protect. Observe. Wait.
A. I think about you more than I probably should. And somehow… I don’t mind.
Adrian exhaled slowly. The words resonated deeper than he expected. Her message was bold, innocent, yet intimate—a confession masked in the casual rhythm of texting. And it made him ache, strangely and profoundly.
He pictured her lying in her small room, hair falling haphazardly across the pillow, cheeks flushed from some private thought, eyes soft and wide as she read his messages. That image, fragile and real, made his chest tighten. She’s just a girl. But I’d cross oceans for her if I had to.
The rational part of him—the prince, the man burdened with responsibility—warned against attachment. She doesn’t belong to this world. You can’t risk her safety, Adrian. Yet the other part, the part that had been pulled into the warmth of her laughter, the spark of her words, the dangerous thrill of her mystery, refused to listen.
He felt the tension of control and vulnerability battling within him. He had investigated her life carefully, discreetly. Every small detail—her city, her work routine, family quirks—had been observed and cataloged, all to understand her world, all to protect her if needed. Yet the closer he got, the more the distance between them seemed both unbearable and intoxicating.
Adrian typed again, fingers hovering over the keys, savoring the anticipation of the reply.
A. If I could hold a moment in my hands right now… it would be this one. Quiet. Yours. Mine. Just like this.
He paused, feeling the weight of her words. Mine. Just like this. The possessive softness, the fleeting intimacy—they weren’t real yet, not in person, not fully. But in this tiny bubble of text and shared time, they were.
He responded carefully, his thumb brushing the screen:
A. Then let’s steal it. Just for tonight.
A quiet laugh escaped him, low and almost inaudible against the night air. Tonight, the world didn’t exist beyond this balcony, beyond her messages. Tonight, distance, duty, and destiny could wait.
Yet even in the quiet, Adrian felt the ache of inevitability. Tomorrow would bring complications—palace duties, responsibilities, and the ever-present shadow of Lucian, who was beginning to notice the threads of his obsession. He couldn’t let her know too much, couldn’t let her get pulled into the intricate, dangerous web that was his life.
For now, though, Adrian allowed himself a rare surrender—to the fluttering heartbeat, the soft warmth in his chest, and the fragile, electrifying connection with someone who existed in his thoughts as vividly as in the distant reality of her room in India.
And in that moment, he realized: protecting her, observing her, yearning for her—it had already become impossible to separate.
LUCIAN POV
The palace balcony was bathed in moonlight, silver and cold against the night sky. Lucian leaned casually against the railing, his eyes tracing the glowing streets of Valeria below—but he wasn’t really looking at the city. He was observing his older brother, Adrian, pacing like a caged predator, phone clutched in hand, jaw tight.
Lucian smirked, silent for a moment, savoring the sight. This is new. Adrian Valerian, meticulous, composed, almost untouchable… and yet, here he is, distracted by someone halfway across the world.
He finally spoke, voice smooth and teasing, but with a sharp edge that only a younger brother could wield.
Lucian: “Ah… the mysterious texts, the late-night smiles, the subtle infatuation. Care to explain, or shall I piece it together myself?”
Adrian froze mid-step, eyes narrowing. He hated when Lucian’s grin came with that uncanny ability to see straight through him.
Adrian: “I… it’s complicated.”
Lucian: “Complicated? You mean Indian stranger across oceans. Hero-worshipped chaos survivor. Right?”
Adrian’s lips twitched. He’s already heard too much, seen too much.
Adrian: “Careful, Lucian. Don’t make this a palace scandal.”
Lucian: “Palace scandal? My dear brother… I only observe. But you—glowing like a fool every time her name flashes on that screen? That is a scandal in itself.”
Lucian stepped closer, leaning over the railing now, eyes gleaming with mischief and curiosity. Every movement radiated a calm confidence that Adrian hated and secretly envied.
Lucian: “You’re distracted, restless, smiling when no one else is watching. And let me guess—3 a.m. texts, stolen moments, daydreams mid-council meeting…”
Adrian’s jaw tightened, hands clenching the phone.
Adrian: “Lucian… this is none of your business.”
Lucian: “Everything involving you is my business. And when did I start ignoring things that make you lose your cool? Never.”
He tilted his head, studying his brother. Adrian’s eyes flicked to the phone, then away, betraying the faint blush he refused to acknowledge. Lucian’s grin widened.
Lucian: “She’s just… a girl you’ve investigated, tracked, obsessed over from across the ocean. And yet you pretend it’s nothing. Right. That’s ‘just’.”
Adrian’s chest tightened, frustration battling with the undeniable truth. Lucian always had a way of cutting through pretense, of saying the words Adrian refused to admit, even to himself.
Adrian: “It’s… nothing. I’m careful. I’m discreet. I’m protecting her.”
Lucian: “Protecting her… or protecting yourself from falling completely? Because let me tell you, Adrian—your heart betrayed you a long time ago. You’re already tangled.”
Adrian exhaled sharply, turning his gaze away from Lucian. He couldn’t deny it. Every heartbeat, every small smile, every fleeting thought of her—she had occupied him entirely.
Lucian’s voice softened just enough to tease, just enough to warn:
Lucian: “If this girl ever sets foot in Valeria, I’ll be watching. Closely. And I won’t be gentle.”
Adrian stiffened, mind racing. Protective instincts surged—not just for her safety, but for the sanctity of his secret, and for the delicate balance he had tried to maintain between desire and duty.
Adrian: “You wouldn’t dare.”
Lucian: “Oh, I would. Curiosity is my weakness… and perhaps a little jealousy.”
Lucian leaned back against the railing, the grin never leaving his face. Adrian felt the chill of tension mingle with something else—relief. For all his infuriating teasing, Lucian’s watchful presence meant someone else knew. Someone else could help him navigate the chaos he had willingly stepped into.
Lucian’s eyes glinted in the moonlight as he added one final, sharp remark:
Lucian: “And when I do meet her… you’ll answer for every sigh, every smirk, every ‘innocent’ text you’ve kept from me. Consider this fair warning, brother.”
Adrian’s shoulders slumped slightly, torn between exasperation and reluctant admiration. Lucian had become more than a curious sibling—he was a wild card, unpredictable, meddling, and… perhaps necessary.
For now, the night stretched between them, the cool air full of tension, amusement, and unspoken stakes. The battle lines were drawn—not against each other, but for her, for the girl who had unwittingly captured the attention of two Valerian princes across oceans.
AANYA’S POV
Aanya sank onto her bed, the hum of her small fan filling the quiet room. The day had been chaotic, the kind that left her shoulders stiff and her mind scattered—but in her hand was her phone, a small island of calm amidst the storm. She propped it on her knees, rereading Adrian’s messages like they were tiny treasures she wasn’t allowed to show anyone.
Aanya’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, heart thumping. Why do his messages make me feel like I’m floating just above the floor?
She typed slowly, almost afraid to hit send, her thumb trembling slightly:
Aanya: “…And that someone honest, you think… might be me?”
She stared at the words, willing them to vanish, then chuckled softly at herself. Why do I always do the thing I shouldn’t?
Her mind wandered, replaying the memories of their conversation from the night before—the teasing, the gentle sarcasm, the rare moments where Adrian had let himself be vulnerable. Somehow, he had made her feel safe even through a screen, like she was speaking to someone who could see her in ways no one else could.
The thought made her cheeks warm. I shouldn’t like him. I really shouldn’t…
A gentle buzz from her phone interrupted the spiral of her thoughts. Adrian had replied:
A. Yes. Maybe it’s you.
Her heart skipped, then stuttered. He said maybe… maybe it’s me. Me?
Aanya sank back against the headboard, eyes closing for a brief moment. The city outside her window continued its relentless buzz, but for a few seconds, she was suspended in the quiet intimacy of two hearts communicating across continents.
She wondered what he was doing right now—leaning against some balcony railing, city lights painting his face in gold, watching the night, thinking of her. She smiled faintly. Does he really think of me? Or is this just… words?
Her fingers moved again, carefully crafting her next message:
Aanya: “Then let’s steal it. Just for tonight.”
She pressed send, heart fluttering like a trapped bird. The idea of stealing a quiet, unshared moment with him felt thrilling—and terrifying. She didn’t know him in person, yet she felt a pull she couldn’t explain, a connection that felt both fragile and vital.
Her phone buzzed almost immediately:
A. Done. But only tonight. Tomorrow chaos returns.
Aanya laughed softly, the sound lost in her empty room. Chaos always returns, she thought, but maybe tonight, it can just be… this.
She curled up under her blanket, phone tucked close, staring at the ceiling and thinking of a stranger half a world away who somehow made her feel… understood.
For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to imagine him—real, not just a name in a text or a face she had never seen—smiling at her, teasing, protective, alive. Her chest tightened, a fluttering mix of excitement and fear. I barely know him… and yet…
The night grew deeper, the city outside slowly quieting. Aanya let her thoughts linger on him, on the stolen connection they shared, and on the strange, electric possibility that someone across the ocean was thinking of her just as intensely.
And yet, she remained blissfully unaware of the palace intrigue, the watching eyes, and the younger prince who had already begun to notice her existence. For now, it was just her, him, and the fragile thread connecting them—vulnerable, delicate, and dangerously intoxicating.
She smiled to herself, whispered into the darkness: Tomorrow chaos returns… but tonight, it’s just us.
Across oceans, the night stretched wide and quiet, but the tension was palpable. In Valeria, the palace hummed with subtle energy—nobles asleep, guards pacing, and two princes caught in the silent gravity of their own entanglements.
Adrian:
He stood on his balcony, phone still warm in his hand, heart racing. Every thought of Aanya pulled him closer, yet he could not—would not—reveal himself fully. Protecting her meant staying in the shadows, piecing together her world bit by bit, careful not to cross lines she had never agreed to.
And now Lucian knows, Adrian thought, jaw tightening. If he gets involved, everything could spiral. I can’t let him ruin this… or put her in danger.
He imagined her, somewhere in India, oblivious to the forces already converging around her. The thought made his chest ache with a protective longing, a desire so fierce it scared him. Every plan to remain distant was failing. Every moment of observation made him feel more tangled in her life—and in his own heart.
Lucian:
Across the palace, the younger Valerian prince smirked in his own room, mind alive with mischief and curiosity. He had noticed the subtle shift in Adrian—how every notification made him grin, how every text kept him awake into the night.
Who is she? Lucian wondered, eyes gleaming. And why does she have my brother so… undone?
Unlike Adrian, Lucian felt excitement, not caution. The unknown called to him, and he had every intention of discovering more. Whether it was to protect, tease, or challenge his older brother, he didn’t know. But one thing was certain—he would be watching. And if fate allowed, he might just meet Aanya himself.
Aanya:
Half a world away, she curled under her blanket, oblivious to the silent chess game unfolding in Valeria. Her mind lingered on Adrian’s teasing, comforting words, and the strange sense of being seen without being known.
She had no idea that someone else—someone with power, insight, and a watchful gaze—had already begun noticing her. Yet even in her ignorance, she felt the pulse of connection with Adrian, fragile and electrifying. The unknown, the distance, the screens between them—all of it seemed to heighten the thrill of their tiny bubble of intimacy.
Three hearts, three continents, one fragile thread.
Across oceans, secrets hummed in the air:
One prince quietly protective, tangled in longing and curiosity.
One younger prince watching, teasing, and ready to intervene.
One girl blissfully unaware, standing on the edge of a world she doesn’t yet know.
The tension was electric, impossible to ignore, and utterly inevitable. Tomorrow would bring chaos, curiosity, and confrontation. Threads would pull tighter. Shadows would grow bolder. And hearts—fragile, tangled, and unprepared—would be tested in ways none of them could yet foresee.
The stage was set. The players were ready. And the game—of protection, curiosity, and undeniable connection—was only just beginning.
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