The gentle moment between them ended...
But neither heart returned to where it had been before.
Alankrita adjusted Raghuveer against her shoulder.
The little boy, exhausted from playing, buried his face into the familiar warmth of her neck and sighed contentedly.
Within seconds...
He was asleep again.
Damiano watched quietly.
Even sleeping...
The child never let go of his mother.
His tiny fingers had wrapped themselves around the edge of her saree pallu.
As though afraid she might disappear.
A strange warmth settled inside Damiano's chest.
"Lunch is ready!"
One of the house staff announced cheerfully.
The family immediately began walking toward the enormous garden pavilion where a long wooden table had been arranged beneath flowering vines.
The table itself looked magnificent.
Fresh flowers decorated its center.
Crystal glasses sparkled beneath the afternoon sun.
Italian bread baskets sat beside steaming bowls of sambar.
Fresh pasta rested beside lemon rice.
Lasagna shared space with vegetable biryani.
The table reflected the family itself—
Two cultures.
One home.
"Come, Talli."
Sumitra affectionately held Alankrita's hand.
"You'll sit beside me."
"No, Amma..."
Alankrita hesitated.
"I'll sit at the end."
She had never liked being the center of attention.
She preferred quiet corners.
Places where no one noticed her.
Sumitra immediately frowned.
"What nonsense."
"You are our guest."
Before Alankrita could protest again...
Krishnamurthy laughed.
"Our guest?"
He shook his head.
"She stopped being a guest years ago."
"You've forgotten?"
"We adopted her the day she walked into our house."
The entire family laughed warmly.
Alankrita lowered her head shyly.
"Amma..."
She whispered.
"Please don't embarrass me."
"You embarrass yourself enough."
Aravind teased.
"Always trying to carry the entire world on those tiny shoulders."
Everyone smiled.
Damiano watched quietly.
He had never seen her laugh so freely.
Not once.
Not during the interview.
Not in London.
Not even during the conference.
Only here...
Among these people...
Did she become completely herself.
Just as everyone prepared to sit...
A tiny voice protested.
"Mama..."
Raghuveer had woken up again.
Still sleepy, he stretched both arms toward Alankrita.
She smiled immediately.
"My prince is hungry?"
He nodded very seriously.
The family chuckled.
"So lunch cannot begin until His Highness approves."
Vittorio declared dramatically.
Raghuveer blinked.
Then smiled proudly.
The adults laughed even harder.
Alankrita settled into her chair.
Before anyone else began eating...
She focused entirely on Raghuveer.
She mashed soft rice with dal.
Blew gently on every spoonful until it cooled.
Only then did she offer it to him.
"Open..."
"Aa..."
Raghuveer obediently opened his tiny mouth.
Everyone watched the little ritual with affectionate smiles.
One spoon.
Then another.
Occasionally he became distracted by butterflies flying nearby.
Patiently...
She waited.
Never rushing him.
Never scolding him.
Simply smiling until his attention returned.
Damiano couldn't stop watching.
Every movement reflected endless patience.
Endless love.
He had spent years perfecting recipes.
Obsessing over presentation.
Believing food was merely technique.
Watching her now...
He realized food could also be love.
Every spoonful she offered carried care.
Comfort.
Security.
Home.
Halfway through the meal...
Raghuveer suddenly grabbed the spoon himself.
"I..."
he declared proudly.
Everyone immediately understood.
"He wants to eat by himself."
Lavanya laughed.
"Oh?"
"Such a big boy already?"
Alankrita smiled patiently.
"Okay."
"You try."
She carefully placed the tiny spoon into his little hand.
The entire family watched expectantly.
Raghuveer scooped up some rice.
Half of it fell back onto the plate.
The remaining half somehow landed on his own nose.
Silence.
For exactly one second.
Then,
The entire table burst into laughter.
Even Raghuveer looked confused.
Crossing his little eyes, he tried to see whatever everyone was laughing about.
Damiano laughed harder than anyone.
A genuine, carefree laugh.
The kind he hadn't experienced in years.
Raghuveer looked at him.
Then...
Without warning...
He laughed too.
As though laughter itself were contagious.
Alankrita reached forward.
"My little prince..."
She gently wiped the rice from his tiny nose.
"So much confidence..."
"So little aim."
The family laughed again.
Damiano realized something then.
He hadn't thought about London once during the entire meal.
Not once.
For the first time in days...
His guilt had been replaced.
Not erased.
Simply...
Covered.
By something softer.
Hope.
A dangerous emotion.
One he had no right to feel.
After lunch...
The elders remained at the table enjoying coffee.
The younger cousins disappeared toward the gardens.
Children resumed playing.
The afternoon settled into peaceful contentment.
Raghuveer climbed down from his chair.
Determined to continue exploring.
His tiny legs carried him across the lawn once more.
This time...
He walked.
A little unsteady.
A little wobbly.
But determined.
Everyone watched proudly.
"My prince is becoming brave."
Alankrita smiled.
Before she could follow him...
Lavanya gently touched her arm.
"Talli..."
"I've been meaning to ask you something."
Alankrita turned politely.
"Yes, Amma?"
"I'd love to show you my research library."
"I think you'll enjoy it."
Alankrita's eyes brightened instantly.
"I'd love that."
"Come then."
Lavanya smiled.
"It'll only take a few minutes."
Alankrita hesitated.
She looked toward Raghuveer instinctively.
Before she could say anything...
Sumitra followed her gaze.
"He'll be fine."
She smiled knowingly.
"We're all here."
Alankrita finally nodded.
"Okay."
She kissed Raghuveer's forehead.
"Mama will come back soon."
The little boy barely looked up.
Far more interested in chasing a bright yellow butterfly.
Alankrita laughed softly before following Lavanya into the villa.
She glanced back only once.
Just to make sure he was safe.
She had no idea...
That the moment she disappeared inside...
Her adventurous little prince would wander straight toward the one man whose heart had already begun claiming him without permission.