Anson had never truly belonged to this town, not in the way the others had, with their shared childhood memories and unspoken familiarity with every street and corner. He had arrived years ago, still young enough to adapt but old enough to remember that this place was not where his story had begun. His parents carried that difference more visibly, their Italian accents wrapping around their words with a warmth and weight that set them apart immediately, while Ansonâs own voice had softened into something less distinct, though every now and then a word would slip out with a sharper vowel or a lingering cadence that made people pause and glance at him twice. âI said sheâs okay. I prefer her to a lot of your other friends,â he said matter-of-factly, as if the statement required no further elaboration. When she told him it was the nicest thing he had ever said to her, he responded with a playful grin. Glancing down at the address, he climbed into the driverâs seat and adjusted himself comfortably, pulling the seatbelt across his chest with an easy, practiced motion. âJust because itâs a weeknight, it doesnât mean people wonât go out. Lots of bad events happen on weekdays,â he confessed, his tone steady but edged with quiet awareness. âIâll be there the whole time. Your friends will just need to be okay with me lurking in the background.â
anika had never really gone through anything she had to worry about; if she was honest, sometimes she felt like having a bodyguard was a bit too much. as she sat in the car, she sighed, setting her bag down beside her. she handed him her phone and watched him get ready. she wasnât shyâshe was proud of who she was. maybe a little loud sometimes, but she liked herself that way. she wasnât crazy, she just liked having fun. âbut it would be worse if it was a weekend night, and you know it,â she sighed, glancing out the window. âi know,â she nodded, âiâm not new to having you around, anson,â anika chuckled. she leaned across the car slightly so she could look at him more closely. âyouâve been around for a long time and i know nothing about you, but you probably know everything about me,â she mused. âyou probably even know when i go to the bathroom⌠maybe you could track my period too,â she teased. she didnât pause long enough for him to interrupt, just kept going. âiâm guessing youâre not dating anyone since you spend all your time with meâŚâ she trailed off, tilting her head slightly, âare you married?â
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His focus always anchored on one thing: making sure Anika was safe no matter where she went or who she was with. He didnât sugar-coat his opinions either, not when it came to the people around her. âI donât mind Delilah. Sheâs a little more careful,â he admitted quietly, as if granting rare approval. âThese friends do whatever they want. They donât think about you and keeping you out of harmâs way.â His tone wasnât harsh for the sake of it, it was matter-of-fact, like he was assessing risk rather than gossiping. When Anika moved toward the door, he followed immediately, the brunette falling into step behind her without hesitation, already scanning their surroundings as if danger could appear at any moment. He grabbed his jacket on the way, slipping it on while making sure everything he needed was in place, checking pockets, adjusting his stance, mentally accounting for exits and angles the way he always did. He didnât think like a normal person anymore; he thought like someone responsible for preventing worst-case scenarios. âI put up with you,â he said bluntly when the conversation circled back to his patience with her social circle, though there was no real malice in it. âI get paid to take care of you and thatâs what I do,â he added, deliberately sidestepping anything more personal. After a pause, he exhaled lightly, glancing at her through the mirror as he adjusted himself one last time. âIâve dealt with worse people. Your tolerable,â he confessed, as if that was the closest thing to praise he was willing to give. Then, with quiet efficiency, Anson looked himself over in the mirror, confirming his readiness, and stepped forward to hold the door open for her. âYou ready?â he asked, his voice steady, already half a step into protector mode.
anikah hadnât known a bodyguard that was nice, if she was completely honest, sometimes she forgot what his job actually wasâkeeping her safe. "sheâs the most careful person on earth, you should be more careful about how you talk about the future queen," she pointed out, no bite behind her words. as he commented on how her other friends didnât care about keeping her safe, she shrugged slightly; if she was honest, they didnât have to think about it, it wasnât like they had a bodyguard or knew what that meant. "people donât care about othersâ lives in that way, they care, but itâs not like they have to worry about something happening to them," she explained, not holding it against her friends. she walked toward the door and he followed, putting on his jacket as she placed hers over her shoulders. as she tried to get him to smile, he stayed serious, unmoved, he didnât bend to her will, she knew he never would. when he told her she was tolerable, she placed a hand on her chest. "thatâs the nicest thing youâve ever said to me," she rolled her eyes. as he opened the door for her, she nodded. "yes," she said, stepping inside the car and placing her bag and jacket next to her. she took her phone and shared the address with anson. "i texted you the address," anika told him, "if it makes it easier, itâs a weeknight, not many people will be there," she added.
Anson never liked Anikaâs friends, not one of them. From the very beginning, they irritated him in ways he couldnât ignore. To Anson, unpredictability wasnât just annoying, it was dangerous. Still, he had been raised to carry himself with discipline and professionalism, so he never openly voiced his disdain. He tolerated them, standing on the edges of their gatherings like a shadow, offering nothing more than a brief, polite âhelloâ if he was forced to acknowledge them. He didnât joke, didnât relax, didnât participate. He simply watched, always alert, always assessing. âI donât trust your friends,â he said, his voice calm but unyielding. âThose people like making last minute plans. You know Iâm here to try and plan ahead and avoid any trouble you might run into.â He stepped closer to her then, the brunette lowering his gaze as he moved into her space, his presence steady and immovable. There was no warmth in his expression, only quiet determination shaped by duty rather than emotion. âI donât get paid to smile,â he added, his tone low and even. âI get paid to make sure no harm comes your way.â And that was all there was to it. Anson would endure their presence without complaint, because his focus would always remain exactly where it belonged: on her safety.
it was clear the dream of any bodyguard would be her staying at home, going to elite gatherings, but anika desired going out, she liked eurovilleâs nightlife. "you donât trust these friends," she corrected, "iâm pretty sure when we go to the palace so i can hang around with delilah, you donât hate her so much," she pointed out. after all, the palace was a safe space. as he complained about how her friends liked making last-minute plans, she rolled her eyes. "iâm not even sure if you like me either," she mused. "i know what your job is, but sometimes things canât be planned," she added, raising her eyebrows as if that was enough to make her point. he stepped closer; she didnât move, and he didnât even react to her joke. "i could give you extra money for you to smile," she teased, "what thenâŚ?" anika smirked. she sighed. "letâs go," she said, walking past him. "theyâre obviously driving us there," she nodded, "i donât want to make them wait," she explained. she slipped her shoes on and made her way to the main door. as she opened it, she turned to look at him. "tell me, do you like me?" she asked, her eyes not leaving his, "and be honest, a raise might come your way if you smile after answering."
Anson had been hired not long after graduating early, his credentials impressive enough to land him a position that most people his age wouldnât even be considered for, and yet there he was, only a year or two older than Anika, standing across from her with a quiet, watchful presence that made the small age gap feel irrelevant; his arms were crossed firmly over his chest, posture straight and composed, as if he had already settled into the weight of responsibility that came with the job, his gaze drifting toward her every couple of minutes in a practiced rhythm, never intrusive but never careless either, the kind of attention that made it clear he wasnât there to socialize but to observe, to ensure, to protect, because that was what he was being paid for, to make sure she was okay, to anticipate trouble before it ever reached her, to step in before danger had the chance to take shape; when their eyes finally met, he didnât look away, holding her gaze with a calm steadiness that bordered on detached professionalism, and after a brief pause he spoke, his voice even and uninflected, giving nothing away, âWhat are your plans tonight?â he asked, as if it were a routine question on a checklist rather than curiosity, and then, without shifting his stance or softening his expression, he followed it up, âHeading anywhere with anyone?â his tone remaining flat, controlled, and entirely focused on the task at hand. Anson had to anticipate who she was around, if it was a good idea. In that way, he got to make the rules.
going out happened from time to time. she liked it, walking around with sunglasses on, part of the novelty but still able to blend in at times. she liked the freedom, something her best friend wouldnât be able to experience. she was in the living room, the spacious place only filled by the two of them, reading and mindlessly waiting for time to pass. a new restaurant had opened in town and she was ready to go there with a couple of friends, it was supposed to be a nice night. she was ready, makeup done and dressed, only missing her shoes. she raised her eyes from the book, meeting ansonâs. "our plan tonight is to go out to a restaurant," there was that undeniable playfulness in her voice. "and weâre going there with three friends, youâll love them for sure," she rolled her eyes at him, knowing he wasnât there for that, nor would he be interested in it. "itâs supposed to be a chill night," she nodded, "no party tonight, that i know of, i know how much you love those," she winked at him. she stood up, straightening her dress, and walked toward him. she smiled, then her eyebrows furrowed as she looked down at his shirt. "you have a stain, right here," she joked. "smile a little, anson," she teased.
lady anika iyer has spent her entire life orbiting power â but never letting it define her.
as the daughter of eurovilleâs high commissioner and cultural minister, anika was raised in a world where influence was quiet, calculated, and constant. her childhood unfolded in grand halls and private meetings, in conversations that shaped alliances and decisions that carried weight far beyond what most people ever see. she learned early how to read a room, how to speak with intention, how to exist gracefully in spaces where every word mattered.
and yet, anika never became rigid.
she learned the rules â and then decided they didnât have to own her.
she can be poised when necessary, effortlessly polished when standing beside dignitaries or attending state functions, her presence calm and assured in a way that reflects her upbringing. she knows exactly how to behave, exactly what to say, exactly how to carry her name with quiet authority.
but that version of her is only part of the truth.
because away from the public eye, anika is something entirely different.
she is warmth and movement and life. she laughs easily, loudly when she forgets herself. she teases without hesitation, leans into people she trusts, fills silence with something softer, more real. she has a playful edge, a tendency to push boundaries just enough to remind herself she still can. sheâll kick off her heels mid-evening, steal a drink she wasnât technically offered, pull someone into a moment they werenât planning on having.
she is a little wild â but only where itâs safe.
and the safest place sheâs ever had has always been beside princess delilah arabella elisabeth alexandra darlington, heir to the throne of euroville.
their friendship is not something that was arranged or expected â itâs something that chose them.
they met as children, in a setting that was meant to be formal, controlled, forgettable. anika ignored all of that. she spoke to delilah like she was just another girl, not a future queen. no titles, no careful distance, no quiet reverence. and for delilah, who had spent her life being treated like something untouchable, it was unexpected â and unforgettable.
anika never saw the crown first.
she saw her.
and she never stopped.
as they grew older, that difference only deepened. where delilah became more composed, more careful, more shaped by duty, anika remained something freer. she became the one person who could pull her out of that structure, who could make her laugh in ways no one else could, who could remind her that she was allowed to exist beyond expectation.
anika is fiercely loyal to her â not in a distant, polite way, but in something much more real. she watches her closely, notices the things others overlook. the way her shoulders tense after long meetings. the slight shift in her smile when sheâs tired. the moments where the weight of being the crown becomes just a little too heavy.
and unlike everyone else, anika doesnât pretend not to see it.
she challenges her. teases her. protects her in the only way she can â by refusing to let her disappear into the role entirely.
their friendship exists in stolen moments and quiet defiance. late-night conversations, shared glances across crowded rooms, laughter that feels almost out of place in a life so structured. it is the one thing in both their worlds that has never felt political, never felt conditional.
it is real.
and because of that proximity â to power, to the crown, to the future queen â anikaâs life has become increasingly visible.
she is no longer just a diplomatâs daughter. she is a public figure in her own right, whether she wants to be or not. people recognize her. watch her. speculate about her. her presence at royal events is noted, her closeness to delilah observed, her name spoken in circles that extend far beyond her control.
and visibility brings risk.
it started with small things â attention that lingered too long, people stepping closer than they should, conversations that felt just slightly off. then came the realization that being close to the heir meant being exposed in ways that couldnât be ignored.
so the decision was made for her.
anika was assigned a personal protection officer â a bodyguard who exists as a constant, quiet presence in her life. always nearby, always watching, always aware. someone trained to anticipate danger before it fully forms.
at first, she resisted it.
she joked, tested limits, tried to outrun the structure of it â not out of rebellion for rebellionâs sake, but because she needed to know she still could. that she still had control over herself, over her movement, over her life.
eventually, she stopped fighting it.
not because she liked it â but because she understood what it meant.
and because she refused to let it change her.
anika iyer is still soft, still bright, still full of life in ways that feel almost defiant in a world that constantly asks for restraint. she is passionate about the people she loves, about living fully even within limitations, about holding onto the parts of herself that feel real.
she moves between two worlds seamlessly â the polished, careful world of diplomacy and expectation, and the quieter, freer world she builds in private. she knows how to be both without losing herself entirely.
and at the center of it all is her bond with delilah â the one place where titles fall away, where expectations soften, where she doesnât have to perform.
because in a life where everything is watched, measured, and remembered â
anika iyer is the one thing that still feels like freedom.
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