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Officially, Harsh was Samarth’s bodyguard but Samarth treated him like a buddy as well as an older brother. Harsh, on the other hand, had devoted himself to his prince but also snapped at him as and when needed. It was a weird relationship and to her eyes, it still looked just the same.

“Eat, Ava, it’ll get cold,” Samarth clipped.

Thank god!

“Yes. Harsh, try this arancini, it’s very good!” She served one on his plate before taking another and biting into it. Her gaze met Samarth’s over the ball and he smirked. The fried gooey cheesy ball turned lava in her mouth. She choked. His smirk widened.

“Ehh,” Harsh pushed a glass of water towards her and she drank gratefully, glaring at her boyfriend from the corner of her eyes.

“So, Harsh,” she set the glass down. “Will Nawanagar people plan a grand vidaai for Kunwarji?”

He frowned. Samarth started laughing.

What? Harsh gestured with his hands. After all these years, she understood his most basic signs.

“I have decided,” Samarth started, eyes on Harsh. “That I will move away from Nawanagar.”

Harsh showed no reaction. But Avantika felt everything bubbling inside her. As if this was the seal.

Up until now, for the last two days, it had just been a conversation between the two of them. Now a third person was involved — such an important third person to Samarth. If he was so fearlessly proclaiming this, then he was fully convinced of it himself.

“I will move to Argentina with Ava after we are married.”

Harsh’s eyes widened and his head snapped to her. She smiled, waving one tentative hand, then going back to her lasagne. She did not look up, even when Samarth launched into his monologue.

“Papa badly wants me to get married. I had no plans of ever humouring him. You know that. I promised Maarani’s parents that I wouldn’t commit, wouldn’t create any hurdles in Sharan’s claim to the throne.

I was convinced that not marrying was the only solution.

But things have changed. Ava is happy not having any claim to Nawanagar, and when we move away to Argentina and raise our family there, we will raise them like normal children.

Like Maan bhai and Samriddhi bhabhi were living in Neelambaag.

Except, we will never come back. I mean, I will shuttle between homes, until Sharan is able enough to shoulder Papa’s responsibilities.

But after that, I will take a step back. ”

A chair scraped back and Avantika glanced up.

Only to find Harsh standing over Samarth, his expression unreadable.

Samarth wasn’t even halfway up from his chair when Harsh had thrown his arms around Samarth’s shoulder and pulled him into a hug.

Avantika winced at his nose knocking into Harsh’s shoulder because that’s how tall he was but Samarth was laughing, squeezing his friend/bodyguard/brother’s back and thumping to the rhythm of his laughter.

Harsh pulled back, looked between the two of them, then gestured — Go.

“So happy to get rid of me?” Samarth clawed his hair back. Now that it was drying, it was falling back onto his forehead.

Harsh scowled, then made a gesture between the three of them, then more signs.

“What will you do there?” Samarth frowned.

More gestures.

“I won’t need a bodyguard there.”

More gestures, something resembling a small child.

“That’s a long way away,” Samarth chuckled, turning his eyes to her. “But we’ll see.”

Avantika smirked, understanding the question through reverse engineering. She had been higher up on that meritorious list than Samarth.

————————————————————

Dating Samarth Sinh Solanki, Kunwar of Nawanagar and Number 1 of Gir Zephyrs was not an easy feat.

The man wouldn’t show his face for weeks on end.

And he wouldn’t get off the phone on a daily basis.

Avantika wasn’t complaining though! Like a loony teenager all over again, she was happy spending her days texting him, sometimes without a break, and nights on FaceTime, doing other stuff because they had talked enough sanskari stuff in daylight.

In return, Samarth ensured that he always, always, always looped his flights through Paris instead of Dubai.

He would book his travel with at least a day’s layover in Paris, sometimes longer if his schedule permitted.

They took two more tiny holidays together when he was around.

One to the French Alps for a weekend of skiing where they went all competitive and raced till they dropped.

And the other to Lyon at the peak of winter.

Core memories were adding to the trips they had taken as kids. From Badrinath to those weekends spent on the slopes and markets of Doon, they had come a long way. And had a longer way to go.

“…and I have a game in Argentina this February. I’ve scheduled a meeting to discuss my citizenship.”

“Will they expect something out of you?” She wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder as she walked down Rue St. Dominique on this cold, windy evening.

“I don’t think so. They didn’t expect me to consider in the first place. The fact that I am open to taking a meeting is a plus for them.”

“Why do they want you to live there?”

“Polo is big in Argentina. Off-season, when international polo tournaments are quiet, they have a ton of domestic tournaments.”

“But you won’t leave your team.”

“I can still play domestic leagues. Like your IPL.”

“Aaahh…” she pushed her muffler closer up to her mouth to keep the cold wind at bay. And stopped short. At this hour of dusk, the Eiffel Tower lights blinked on in the distance. It was magical. “Samarth?”

“Yes, Ava?”

“Do you realise that we have lived in Paris for six months and never once come to the Eiffel Tower.”

“It’s a tourist trap.”

“Still…” she pulled her phone off her ear, raised it, balanced the brightness, and snapped a photograph. She pulled up his chat and hit send.

“What will I do with this tower’s photo?” His voice blared and she plastered her phone back to her ear. “Send me the girl’s.”

She blushed openly, because he wasn’t here to gloat over it. Then held her phone out again, turned and snapped a selfie.

“Happy?”

“Very… hey, Ava, Gopi just sent a message.”

“I know. His bachelor and Kresha’s bachelorette clubbed weekend. At our winter palace in Gwalior.”

“Won’t it be weird?”

“Why?”

“Your sister thinks I broke up with you and made you cry.”

“That was just one day when she was angry after I cried the day we broke up.”

“Still.”

“Don’t worry. She and Gopi asked me if I was ok. Gopi wanted to invite all his school friends and you both were pretty close because of all the horse.”

Samarth snorted — “What did you say?”

“I said it’s all ancient history. Call whoever.”

“Whoever, huh? I am whoever now?”

“Think about it! It will be so much fun to have our sordid affair behind their backs, meeting in secret alleys and behind the bougainvillaea garden. Oh my gawwd! I have so many ideas! Sneaking off to…”

“They will hang me if I am caught violating their Kumari’s reputation.”

“That’s toh even better! They will then make you forcefully marry me. Bridgeton-style. Our problem solved!”

Silence. And then the howling sounds of his laughter.

“My father would go gaga over your skewed logic,” Samarth wheezed. “Thank god he doesn’t get all these mad ideas.”

“Want me to get in touch with him?”

“Don’t even think about it. Alright, listen, I won’t be able to come this weekend.”

“Why? You had planned to get away…”

“I know. I had lied that I had a friend’s birthday to attend. But… that didn’t seem too important in front of Sankranti havan. Like a fool I picked the 14th January weekend.”

She snickered, inwardly crying because he wasn’t going to be there.

“Go fly kites then, we’ll meet the weekend after at my palace. Come sneak into my room again,” she whisper-shouted.

“You are a nutcase. I am not sneaking into your room or anything. Do not speak to me there. Behave like I broke your heart ten years ago.”

“I told them all that I broke yours.”

“Fine, then I’ll stay away from you.”

“Give me those tough man looks also… the ones you have mastered now.”

“What tough man looks?”

“The ones you gave that opponent in Spain Open when he tried to swing his mallet too close to your pony's leg? That hot, angry, ‘I’ll bury you right here’ look.”

“I am doing none of that, and neither are you. Let’s just get the weekend over with and then I will come to Paris the week after. I have that meeting in Argentina, but I have booked my tickets for an extended weekend in Paris. Kresha’s actual wedding is in March, right?”

“Right.”

“Then are you going back to Paris after her bachelorette? Or are you staying in India to help with the prep?”

“No way! I haven’t had a full day with you in a month. I am going back to Paris if only for the weekend with you.”

“Good. Alright then, I’ll see you next weekend, Kumari.”

“Call me Avantika there, it’ll sound even more intense!”

“Bye, Ava.”