Harsh's heart hammered as he stepped inside Agney's study, hesitating at the threshold. He risked to peek at him. 

"About time you've arrived after last night fiasco's," Agney tossed, not looking up.

He gulped and stepped forward, his left cheek throbbing with phantom pain. "Fine, sorry," he mumbled, dryly.

Agney exhaled and looked up. "A seven hundred year old dynasty. Do you think it works on your simple apology?"

Shrugging, he looked away. "Who asked to be a part of it..." he muttered under his breath.

"Don't slur like some drunken fool."

He winced, standing up straighter as he pocketed his hands in his trousers. Fuck. Agney was in a foul mood already. It wasn't even five minutes into the conversation yet.

"How about you just dish out the punishment already?" He asked wearily. "Look, I get it. Trying to get into panties that don't suit the status quo was risky. It won't happen again."

Agney glared, his jaw ticking as he narrowed his eyes. "Is that all you have concluded with Prithvi?"

He blinked in stupor before he scoffed. That was what he thought? "No. Bless that guy since he told—"

"Call him bhai."

He ignored him. "-told me that sex at my age is wrong. That's his only concern. You on the hand Maharaj..." He eyed Agney with a pointed look. "You're more fixated on maintaining reputation. I get it. Nobody wants to put up with filth after all," he spat back the word with bitterness.

A ghost of guilt flickered in Agney's eyes almost imperceptibly, before it vanished in just milliseconds.

He was probably misreading it. There was no way this man could be apologetic for calling him filth when he believed it with everything in his heart. He had seen it in Agney's eyes, condescension for his entire existence. Harsh was a sin. A mistake. And thought last night conversation cleared some of his own misunderstandings, he knew these people would never accept an illegitimate brother born from a prostitute.

His eyes hardened. He had enough with these games now. He wanted the truth.

"Just tell me one thing. If you don't want the filth, the world doesn't want the filth, why am I here? Why am I being forced to all these restrictions when all I am is just one big, pity-party for you. I'm just a charity thing, right? Pity me, snap photos and just throw me out of your life. Why are you choking me with your... God complex," he spat.

Agney's steely eyes raged with unknown emotions, before his lips pursed. "Do you know your mother's last wish?"

He recoiled back as the question slammed into him.

His mother had a last wish?

Any other time, he would have laughed at Tina and purposefully ruined her wish just to annoy her. But something about her last wish was final and irreversible as he felt it sink in his bones. If anyone ever fought for him, even reluctantly or stupidly, it was her. She might not have been the ideal mother, but her last words deserved to be respected when she had fought death to keep him alive many years ago. That blood-drenched memory still haunted him to this day. It clawed up his throat, uninvited, bringing a tremble to his fingers. He gripped them tighter in his pockets.

Ageny frowned, watching the turbulent emotions on the boy's face, ranging from confusion, fear... to pain.

"Didn't you know?"

He snapped back to reality, eyes wide and searching Agney's face as he breathed quickly. "No."

His eyes watched Agney with a mix of confusion and hope.

What was her last wish?

He breathed deeply to calm his pounding heart. "What did she want? Ashes to Varanasi or some grand funeral?" He snorted to mask his pain. 

Agney's gaze became heavy and solemn. "She wanted me to give you a chance to become someone you were born to be. That was what she asked from me when she ended the call."

"You could have been a prince. A real prince."

Harsh's eyes teared, even without wanting to. It was something she always complained whenever she was drunk or angry, believing he was born for better, unlike her.

Did she ask something for him in her last moment?

His shoulders slumped. "Is that why-" he sniffed and swallowed. "You are pitying me?"

Ageny's face became steeled with anger. He never pitied the boy. He was family, not a stray to be pitied on.

"I'm not pitying you. I don't pity. I'm only giving you the opportunity she wanted me to give you, the one you deserve. This is my duty as my father's second eldest, and the Maharaj of Ajmerganj to give you a rightful chance. You were born to be a prince. That's what you can be."

Sorrow filled him, his lip curling into a faint, broken smile.

Didn't Ageny get it?

"I'm already a prince. The moment you accepted me, I became one." 

Agney's eyes softened at the boy's broken words. But the look vanished instantly. 

"Maybe by blood," he said sternly, "but not by your worth. You are yet to earn it."

Harsh exhaled, the smile twisting into something sad and better. He glanced down, jaw clenched. "Life isn't fair, Maharaj Agney. Blood is everything. If you have accepted that I'm a prince, it's the end of story. No one in the world can dare to look in my eyes and call me a bastard when you have accepted otherwise. That's the harsh reality of this world. It fears power. And you? You gave me that power. I'll feared and treated as a prince, even if the other half of my mother's lineage corrupts my veins. In fact, the truth is, her last wish demands from you, not me." 

Ageny stared at him, stunned.

The kind of depth from someone who usually lived in defiance and raucousness caught him off-guard. Especially considering how young he was. Beneath that youthful appearance, was a hardened soul he didn't expect to find.

"I've never favored anyone for the entitlement they have received more than their worth," Agney confessed truly. He didn't want the boy to think they were like the rest of the world. Yes, the world could be merciless. But they weren't powerful just for the sake of survival. They were powerful because every one of them they had something to prove in their own eyes.

That was how his family was. How his mother first raised her eldest- their bhaiya, who passed down the tradition to all of them.

"Maybe you never needed to. But the world does."

"I don't need world's validation to work. My rules are my world."

His lips thinned as he wrung his fingers in the pockets. The need to prove himself ached inside him, bone-deep. Something which surprised him. Tossed into shadows all his life, he yearned to be alive and his name shone in the world. He didn't want to die like a mistake, just like his mother and the countless ancestors who brought his existence into being. His mother, her father, his mother.... a whole chain from his maternal side.

Besides, wasn't that what his mother wanted too?

He really wanted to prove himself to Ageny's world. The need became a passion, a passion no one could douse, not even his own hatred. 

The fact that his own father kept him a secret from his other brothers alleviated some of his resentment. Though, not enough to risk himself. He wasn't going to mindlessly accept whatever was tossed to him just because he agreed to become a part of their world for a short while.

He needed control. 

"Fine," he said at last, voice steady. "I will try to be a prince for my mother. I want a chance to prove myself. But if this... if being a prince means living solely living under your rules and losing myself, I won't play it. The moment I turn eighteen, I'll leave."

Ageny's brows barrly twitched at the blunt detachment of the boy. He studied him for a long moment while internally, his chest tightened. But what could he possibly do? He couldn't force someone to stay when they didn't want to. Legally, his obligations ended the moment Harsh turned eighteen. The boy had to be set free if he wanted to be. 

He masked his hurt, and nodded once. "Agreed. I'll give you the settlement amount of your inheritance then. You'll be free to live your life as however you deem fit. However, till then, you live by our rules. Can you promise me that?"

He nodded. "Yeah. But I don't need your charity, okay? I'll repay every penny. I want nothing to do with this place if this... princey stuff doesn't work out. But, do you promise to never track me down afterwards? I really want nothing to do with your family if I decide to leave."

Agney held his gaze, his heart heavy. "I promise."

A strange relief uncoiled in his chest. But it came with a hollow ache when he realized Agney showed no desperation for holding him back.

Was he that easy to let go?

He wasn't wanted after all.

His face fell, before he forced himself to act. "So, what do I have to do to prove you that I'm a prince?" His head tilted, faking a smirk. 

"First, we need to go over your last night's actions."

He groaned, arms flopping in exasperation. Hadn't he let it go? "What now?"

"You're grounded for the next four months. No leaving the palace unless it's for school. Or, one of us accompanies you. Your privileges are stripped down. No phone, no TV or anything entertaining. Don't even try reading books, unless they're non-fiction or academic. You will learn two different languages of your choice in addition to your home classes and schoolwork."

His mind went blank at the 'two languages'. "What? What do languages have to do with anything?"

Agney ignored him, glancing at his wristwatch. He exhaled sharply and leaned back in the chair, slowly playing with his signature ring. "As for what we discussed earlier, I'm willing to give you a shot. Let's try this. Two months. That's all you have to prepare for overseeing the youth seminar on behalf of me. That's your test. Successfully pass it and I'll consider granting you anything you want."

"Anything?" He asked hopefully.

Now, now, he knew not to ask for a hot chic, but maybe he could ask for a club party or something else? That would be his better escape. Because his chances of getting laid in their surveillance was next to impossible. 

Last night was a proof enough. 

He wouldn't risk his neck. 

Agney's expression hardened at his over-enthusiasm. "No funny business."

He grinned sheepishly, only for it to fall. His brain caught up with the rest of the sentence.

"Wait... two months? How do you expect me to learn to handle such a big responsibility in such a short time? I don't know public speaking!"

"That's not my concern," Agney replied unapologetically.

Just as he was about to argue and negotiate a better test, the door swung open.

Harsh glanced over his shoulder. His heart dropped as Chirag trudged in, head low.

"Good morning, your Majesty," he greeted, voice brittle.

Agney watched him sharply. "Chirag Jaiswal. I hope you know the reason you're summoned for."

Chirag nodded, still not lifting his gaze. "Yes, your Majesty."

Agney's gaze flicked to Harsh, who shifted guiltily. He turned back to Chirag. 

"As a result of your wavering ethics, you're demoted to the post of junior receptionist at our hotel. Since you're clearly unfit to cope with royal impulses."

Chirag's shoulders sagged. "I understand, your Majesty. I'm deeply ashamed of my actions. They...they won't repeat," he accepted heavily.

Harsh looked away, jaw clenched. Guilt coiled in his gut, but his heart didn't soften. It wasn't his fault entirely. Sure, he had forced and blackmailed Chirag but he chose to succumb to his pressure.

He could have betrayed Harsh earlier and saved himself from Agney's wrath without risking his own head. He didn't. Instead, he chose to hide it under the rug and let Ageny's rage pent-up until it blasted.

Since Harsh was betrayed now, his heart wasn't going to melt.

"Dismissed."

Chirag turned and left soundlessly. 

He turned back to Agney whose gaze pinned him at his place. 

"These are the consequences of your actions."

His head dropped slightly as he exhaled. He knew Agney was hinting at Isha too. 

"Whatever," he brushed it off to feel better. 

A knock sounded right outside the door.

He looked up just as Agney allowed the visitor to enter.

Bull.

As soon as their glares collided, his spine locked, lips pressing into a thin line.

He hated that guy. He was so annoying.

"Welcome, prince Kshitij. What a pleasant surprise." Agney smiled.

He smiled.

Harsh shivered involuntarily. 

Was he planning a murder?

Kshitij shifted and clasped his hands behind his back, chin raised. "Just cut to the chase, bhai. I'm about to leave for college."

"Nothing much. I was testing the last time we'll be addressing you as Prince for the next two months."

Kshitij frowned. "Pardon?"

"Pardoned." Agney tipped his head forward. "Now, coming to the point. Your title is stripped for the next two months. Rats don't deserve titles. You ratted out Harsh when you could have intervened as an older brother. Instead, you snitched like some lowly rat." Agney glared.

Kshitij's face twisted with anger and disbelief.

Harsh's lips twitched.

All of a sudden, he stilled. Wait. Kshitij ratted him out?

It wasn't Ageny who dug out the information himself?

The fuck!

He scowled at the gym freak. That was an awful move on his part. He would lose his everything precious to him, making an enemy out of Harsh. 

He would make sure of that.

"Since you're such a great observer, I have also decided to hand over Harsh's wellbeing under your in-charge. For the next two months, you're responsible for Harsh. If he fails, it's on you. If he doesn't, congrats. You can finally be prince Kshitij again."

He choked on a breath, staring at Agney like he had lost his mind. "Under the bull's charge?" 

The words tumbled out of his words before he could stop himself. 

Kshitij's eyes snapped to him, a flicker of something feral crossing his face before it was gone. He said nothing, just rolled his jaw once and looked away. 

"Babysitting a whore's son is not my princely duty," Kshitij snapped.

The temperature in the room dropped. 

His glare turned lethal, eyes narrowing with mutual hatred.

"No one's dying to be babysat by your only brain cell."

Agney stared at Kshitij calmly.  "Do you want to scrub toilets?"

That silenced Kshitij for good. 

"Figured," Agney added dryly.

Harsh huffed, furious. Of all the brothers, it had to be him? The smug arrogant bastard who walked like he owned the air around him. Who insulted him at dinner. Who looked at him like a virus contaminating the air he breathed. 

Why couldn't it be Prithvi instead? Atleast, he wasn't smug.

His mouth opened to protest, suggest Prithvi instead, but Agney ignored them as the door swung open. Again.

This time, without knocking. 

"Your Majesty," Neelakshi announced, slightly breathless, tablet in hand, "Your uncle has arrived at the hotel. Prince Yuvaan wants your help ASAP."

Prince Yuvaan.

His stomach twisted.

Even though Agney had said Kshitij had snitched, his gut told him otherwise.

Yuvaan. He was the only one who saw him last time with Isha.

Sure, Kshitij's twin could have seen him and reported him too, but he didn't strike him as someone who would risk his own peace for someone else. He was calm. Like... Zen kinda calm. Atleast, that were the impressions till now.

But Yuvaan?

His Killer eyes screamed psychopath. After all, psychopaths were super attractive.

"Right away," Agney replied after her.

A figure slipped in as Neelakshi moved aside. Kshitij's leaner twin walked with a casual lilt in his step, backpack slung over one shoulder. He acknowledged Neelakshi briefly, before turning to Agney with a lopsided grin.

"Morning, Bhai," he greeted.

Agney's eyes softened for a fraction as his body eased. He stretched his right arm and they shared a quick, half-hug.

"I'm going to college. Guess, I have to join the lab class today."

Agney gently leaned in. "Study well, hm? Text me once you reach. Stay in the security's range. And don't let your brother drag you into any nonsense."

Harsh's mouth hung open as he stared. Shocked.

Could Agney Rajvansh even do that? Be... loving?

"I'll try," Kshitish nodded, lips twitching as he pulled away. He turned to Kshitij, expression back to his signature unreadable face. "Are you coming or not?"

Kshitij rolled his eyes. "I'll be down in five."

Kshitish nodded again at Agney, a respectful tilt of his head, and turned toward the door. His eyes briefly flicked to Harsh's stunned expression, unreadable.

He immediately composed his face.

Kshitish ignored him and left.

Agney watched him go, his eyes lingering on the door even after he had disappeared down the corridor. Silence filled the space.

Then, he turned back to them.

Harsh felt the comparison without it being said aloud. 

So Kshitish was the perfect little brother. While they— the bull included, were a bunch of clowns. 

In Agney's eyes obviously.

Agney stood, straightening his cuffs. "By the way, Jay," he added, turned to Kshitij. "Ms Sneha won't be attending to you. From now onwards, she's only Shay's PA." He smirked and strode out, Neelakshi following him as soon as he stepped out of the door.

The tip of Harsh's nose crinkled in confusion, knitting his brows.

Jay? Shay?

His eyes widened. Oh.

Kshitij and Kshitish.

Jay scoffed under his breath. "Who cares?" he muttered after him.

Silence.

Kshitij turned slowly towards Harsh. His expressions hardened, face taut as he stepped into his space.

Harsh stood his ground, eyes narrowing. "What?"

"Listen to me, brat," Kshitij hissed, low and dangerous, his breath warm against Harsh's face. "If you mess up at any point, even once, I won't leave you in a condition to speak. Get it?"

Harsh's smirked. "It just gives me all the more reason to mess up."

Kshitij's eyes narrowed. "And I'll be the reason you regret it."

Harsh clicked his tongue. "Heard that one before. Be original, princey."

Kshitij stepped back, jaw tight. "Keep your ego ready, whore's son. I'll crush it soon."

Harsh tilted his head. "Try me, Jay."

Kshitij's eyes flashed. His nostrils flared, but he didn't speak. He pointed at his own eyes and then at Harsh. "My eyes are on you," he warned, menacingly pulling away.

With a final glare, he turned on his heel and strode out, slamming the door behind him.

Harsh smirk slowly faltered with irritation. 

This day couldn't be worse.