Page 18 of The Defiant Wife

Usually story time resembles a fish market. Questions. Interruptions. Arguments. Random unrelated comments.

Laila once spent fifteen minutes explaining why dragons would make excellent pets.

Today? Nothing.

Everyone is listening. Even Keshav. Which frankly feels impossible.

A smile pulls at my lips before I can stop it.

I quietly move toward the back of the room and sit beside Rani.

She glances at me briefly before returning her attention to the story. A minute later she nudges my arm.

I look down.

She motions for me to come closer. Immediately suspicious, I lean toward her.

Rani places a hand beside her mouth and whispers dramatically into my ear."Does Prince uncle know how to smile?"

I nearly choke. A laugh rises so quickly I have to bite the inside of my cheek.

Across the room Veeraj continues reading, completely unaware he's being discussed.

"I don't think so," I whisper back seriously.

Rani gasps."I knew it."

I have to look away before I start laughing.She studies him thoughtfully.Like a scientist examining a rare specimen.Then she nods once."We should teach him."

My eyebrows rise. "Oh?"

"Yes."

"How?"

She shrugs. "We'll figure it out."

A smile tugs at my mouth. God. I adore this child.

Rani arrived here almost three years ago. Six years old. Silent. Terrified. She spent months hiding behind furniture and refusing to speak to anyone or throwing tantrums.The social workers said she had witnessed things no child should ever witness.

They told us it would take time.

And it did. A lot of time.

Now she talks. Not much. But enough. Enough to tell me when she's sad. Enough to tell me when she misses someone. Enough to whisper plans about forcing grumpy princes to smile. Progress comes in strange forms sometimes.

At the front of the room, Veeraj turns a page. His voice remains steady. Deep. Calm.

The children hang onto every word.

And for a moment I find myself studying him.

Not because he's handsome.Even though he unfortunately is. No. Because this doesn't make sense.Everything I'd assumed about him suggested he'd hate this.

Yet here he is. Reading. Answering questions. Patiently explaining parts the children don't understand. No irritation. No complaints. Just quiet attentiveness.

Almost as if he doesn't realize he's doing something kind.His gaze lifts suddenly.Meeting mine. All my thoughts vanish as I take his brown eyes in.For a second neither of us looks away.Then his eyebrow rises slightly.Questioning.I immediately look elsewhere.