Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Battle He Chose to Fight

The return to the palace was quieter than expected.

Not tense.

Not uncomfortable.

But filled with something new—

A fragile understanding.

When they stepped inside, the familiar warmth of the Rathore home wrapped around them.

His parents were already waiting, their eyes immediately searching for Poornima.

The moment they saw her—

Relief washed over their faces.

“Beta…” his mother stepped forward, her voice soft, emotional.

Poornima bent slightly, taking their blessings, her eyes lowering with respect, but there was a calmness in her now that hadn’t been there before.

“I’m fine, masa…” she said gently.

His father placed a reassuring hand on her head.

“Bas, that’s enough… you’re home.”

That word—

Home.

It stayed with her.

Veeresh watched quietly, his expression unreadable, but his eyes softer than before.

“Mom… Dad…” he spoke calmly. “Let her rest.”

There was a firmness in his tone—not harsh, but protective.

“I need to talk to you.”

His parents exchanged a glance, understanding immediately.

Poornima didn’t question.

Didn’t interrupt.

She simply nodded and walked toward their room.

This time—

Not as someone uncertain of her place.

But as someone who was slowly beginning to feel it again.

The moment she disappeared upstairs, Veeresh turned back to his parents.

The calm in his face shifted.

Now—

It was serious.

He didn’t sit.

Didn’t delay.

He told them everything.

Not hiding anything.

Not softening it.

Ridhima’s threats.

The whispers in the palace.

Her father’s constant pressure.

The way Poornima had been breaking silently while standing beside him.

Every word.

His mother’s expression changed as she listened—

From concern…

To anger.

Controlled.

But sharp.

“Change the workers,” she said immediately, her voice firm. “Anyone who spoke like that… they don’t belong in this house.”

There was no hesitation in her decision.

“This is our home… and she is our daughter now. No one gets to make her feel otherwise.”

His father nodded in agreement, his face stern.

“Respect is not optional here.”

Veeresh listened, but his gaze was distant for a moment—

Thinking beyond just the palace.

“Workers can be changed,” he said slowly.

“But that’s not the only problem.”

His tone lowered.

“Her father…”

A pause.

“He’s becoming too much.”

The words weren’t loud.

But they carried weight.

“He’s not just interfering… he’s targeting her peace, her work… her life.”

His jaw tightened slightly.

“I let it go earlier.”

A mistake he now acknowledged silently.

“But not anymore.”

His father looked at him carefully.

“What are you planning?”

Veeresh exhaled slowly, his expression turning colder—not out of anger, but control.

“I’m going to handle him.”

No impulsiveness.

No rage.

A decision.

“Legally. Properly.”

His mother watched him closely, noticing the shift in him.

This wasn’t the Veeresh who reacted instantly.

This was someone who had learned—

Through loss.

“Make sure you don’t lose yourself in it,” she said softly.

He looked at her.

“I won’t.”

A pause.

“Because this time… I know what I’m protecting.”

Not his ego.

Not his reputation.

Her.

Her peace.

Her dignity.

Her place in his life.

Upstairs, Poornima sat quietly on the edge of the bed, her fingers lightly touching the sindoor still resting in her maang—

Unaware that for the first time, someone wasn’t just standing beside her, but was ready to stand in front of every storm she had faced alone, not to fight for control, but to ensure she never had to fight by herself again.