After high school, when he said he wanted to take a gap year and travel the world, his family had nothing but encouragement for him. After the gap year, when he decided not to go home but to join the Peace Corps, everyone acted like it was the most brilliant idea ever. After that he decided to go to Sripore and work with his aunt on her foundation for a while, and everyone acted like it was the most selfless and admirable thing to do. He never brought college up again and no one else did either. There was just never any time as he raced from cause to cause, project to project.

For the first time in his life, the need to run seemed to have exhausted itself out of him. It was strange to have this realization hit him here, outside these glass-paned doors. He liked who he was. It no longer felt like that wasn’t enough. Now that he’d helped Yash achieve something amazing here, his parents’ home no longer felt like the place he had to leave to prove things. This corner of the world had always felt different from everywhere else. Now it felt less complicated, safe. Vansh wanted to follow the urge to see how long it lasted.

As for Naina Kohli’s vision of him not matching his own, it was just a matter of plucking out the nail she’d hammered into his self-esteem. Good thing pulling nails from his self-esteem was one of his many talents.

“What are you mumbling to yourself about?” J-Auntie asked as Vansh made his way into the kitchen, which was the size of the last apartment he’d shared with two people.

She was arranging cucumber sandwiches on a platter. A steaming teapot of chai and teacups sat neatly on a service trolley.

Vansh picked up a sandwich and popped it whole into his mouth. If J-Auntie’s cooking could be counted as evidence, then his parents’ home was definitely the best place on earth. Picking up two more sandwiches, one in each hand, he proceeded to stuff his face.

“Delicious, Auntie! How do you make cucumber taste like this?” Paper-thin slices of cucumber, delicately spiced Greek yogurt spread, and pillowy whole-grain bread. This was the life.

“His Highness was looking for you earlier,” she said instead of acknowledging his praise, expression flat and respectful, the way it always was when she brought up his father. When anyone brought up the venerable HRH. That’s what Vansh and his siblings called their father, His Royal Highness Shree Hari Raje. Behind his back, of course. He was a prince, and nothing fit him better than HRH.

Vansh finished the rest of his sandwich in one bite. It was not usual for HRH to ever be looking for him.

“But then he had to leave,” J-Auntie said.

Vansh tried not to heave a sigh of relief and threw another hungry look at the sandwiches.