Avantika didn't sleep that night.

The sky outside had turned a soft shade of lavender-blue by the time she gave up pretending. Her eyes were wide open, fixed on the ceiling fan as it turned in slow, sleepy rotations above her. Her blanket tangled around her legs, and though Abhimanyu was fast asleep on the couch in the living room, the warmth of his presence still lingered like a soft pressure against her skin.

Her mind replayed the events of the day like a looped film reel—Abhinav's furious calls, the media headlines, the royal family's harsh ultimatum.

Her choices were cruelly simple.
Marry now.
Or walk away.

And the cruelest part was that if she walked away, she wouldn't just be walking from him. She'd be running from the kind of love most people dreamed about their whole lives.

A love that brought her flowers that matched her clothes. A love that remembered she got motion sick in buses and made sure she got the window seat. A love that fed her momos with chutney in traffic and braided her hair while she snacked. A love that had become her safe place, her chaos, her comfort—all wrapped into one man who never treated her like less, despite coming from a world so different from hers.

Abhimanyu Rajput was not just a prince on paper. He was her prince.

So by the time the sun filtered in, spilling gold onto the hardwood floors of the penthouse, Avantika had made her decision. Her fingers trembled, her stomach twisted, but her heart had never been more certain.

She would marry him.

Not because of pressure. Not because of headlines. But because losing him felt worse than losing her freedom.

She changed out of her nightshirt and dinosaur shorts, pulling on a simple peach kurti and jeans. She didn't bother with kajal, just tied her hair in a loose braid and padded into the living room barefoot.

He was still asleep, curled up with one arm covering his eyes. His white t-shirt had ridden up slightly, revealing a sliver of his waist, and for a second, she just watched him, committing the peace on his face to memory.

Then she bent down, gently touched his arm. "Abhimanyu?"

He stirred, then blinked groggily up at her. "Hmm?"

"I need to talk to you."

He rubbed his eyes, then sat up quickly. "Is everything okay? Did someone call again?"

"No, it's nothing like that." She sat beside him, her hands shaking slightly as she fiddled with the hem of her kurti. "I... I've made a decision."

He sat up straighter, instantly alert. "About?"

She turned to him, her voice soft. "The marriage."

His brows knit together. "Avantika..."

"I'll do it," she said, the words tumbling out too quickly. "If it means I don't lose you, I'll marry you."

His face froze.

"You don't have to—"

"I want to," she interrupted, but her voice cracked. "Not because I'm ready. I'm not. But because if I lose you because of this stupid title or media, I'll regret it forever. I'd rather be your wife than your ex."

He didn't respond right away. His eyes searched her face, looking for the fear she was trying so hard to mask.

"You're nineteen," he said finally, voice quiet.

"I know."

"You're in your second year of uni."

"I can finish it even if I'm married."

"You always said you wanted to do your Master's."

"I still do. I just... I can't imagine doing it without you in my life."

He exhaled slowly, rubbing his face. "You're not supposed to have to make this choice. You're supposed to be out shopping with your friends, flirting with college boys, not planning a royal wedding."

She smiled faintly. "I flirted with you instead."

He chuckled, the sound bittersweet. "I didn't want this for you."

She reached out and took his hand, threading her fingers through his. "I didn't either. But... maybe it's not about what we wanted. Maybe it's about what we need."

He stared at her a long moment. Then he reached forward, his hand cupping her cheek. "Are you absolutely sure?"

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"I tried imagining life without you last night," she whispered. "And it felt... grey."

Abhimanyu kissed her forehead, slow and lingering. "You'll still get to have everything you wanted. We'll do it all. But I promise you, Avantika, I will never, ever let this marriage trap you. You'll still have your dreams, your space, your life. I'll just... be a part of it now."

"Good," she sniffled. "Because I swear to God, if I lose my degree over this, I will haunt you in your palace."

He laughed and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight.

After a long moment, he whispered, "You don't need to change anything. Not your clothes, not your attitude, not your sarcasm. You'll be the first Rajkumari in ripped jeans and dinosaur pajamas, and I'll be the proudest Rajkumar alive."

She burst out laughing into his chest. "Deal."

Abhinav walked into the room rubbing his eyes, only to freeze mid-step. "What's going on?"

Abhimanyu looked up. "She said yes."

Abhinav blinked. "To what?"

"Marriage."

Abhinav dropped his phone. "You're joking."

Avantika shook her head, cheeks red. "Not joking."

Abhinav stared at them for a second before exhaling sharply. "Okay. Okay. We're doing this then."

Abhimanyu gave him a long look. "We'll need time to plan. Something quiet. Elegant. Small."

Abhinav snorted. "Small? Our parents are already inviting international royalty."

Avantika groaned and buried her face in Abhimanyu's shoulder. "Kill me now."

Abhinav rolled his eyes. "Too late, you signed up for this circus."

Abhimanyu kissed her temple. "We'll make it our kind of circus."

She lifted her head, eyes shining with nervousness. "Does this mean I need to... meet the king and queen again?"

Abhinav grinned wickedly. "Oh yes. And they want a proper meeting. Saree, namaste, head bowed. The whole nine yards."

Avantika groaned.

"You got this," Abhimanyu whispered.

"I better," she muttered, "or I'll elope and blame it on you."

He laughed again, eyes glowing. "I'll pack the bags."