Page 11 of Trapped By the Maharaja

Devara Temple

The heavy red and gold silk saree clung to Sanjana, weighed down with the antique gold jewelry that shimmered in the early morning light.

Sanjana felt trapped as she was led from the helicopter toward an ancient temple on the hilltop.

“Where am I?” she demanded.

But the two burly bodyguards remained silent as ever. They hadn’t said a word since the moment they had escorted her from her apartment at sunrise.

Her eyes felt tired and groggy. After signing away her life in the form of a marriage contract, she had returned home the previous evening. She had lain awake with her eyes open, heart pounding, hoping desperately to find a way to escape the unholy agreement.

She had just closed her eyes in exhaustion when she heard the insistent knocking on her apartment door. She had answered it, thinking it was an emergency from someone in the building. But instead of a worried neighbor, it was a group of well-dressed women.

“Dr. Shetty, we are here to prepare you for the wedding ceremony,” one of them stated.

Before Sanjana could react, they had stepped inside and taken over her space. She tried to protest, but she was told that they were merely following instructions and that they would get into trouble if she didn’t allow them to complete their task before the allotted time.

Not wanting innocent people to get into trouble because of her, and also because she had signed the contract, she followed their instructions.

She was told to take a quick shower, and when she emerged, the living room had transformed into a bridal dressing room with palettes of makeup, velvet-lined jewelry boxes, fragrant flowers, and fabric bundles in hues of crimson and maroon.

They brushed and twisted her hair into a long braid before decorating it with golden accessories and flowers.

Her forehead was marked with an intricate vermillion design in an intricate design.

A stunningly beautiful red and gold bridal saree was wrapped and pleated onto her.

Antique temple jewelry that felt like it weighed as much as her was placed around her neck in layers, on her hands, her waist, and around her ankles.

Finally, a red-and-gold silk veil was pinned to her hair.

When she looked at herself in a long mirror, she felt less like getting married and more like being prepared for sacrifice.

Once she was dressed as a bride fit for a royal, she was escorted out of the apartment.

The bodyguards were already waiting by the time she was led outside.

Wordlessly, they had escorted her into a black SUV, then into a waiting helicopter.

She had sat with her fists clenched in her lap, the folds of her saree gathered in her palms like reins she was trying to control.

And now, almost a couple of hours later, she was walking barefoot up to the stone steps of a breathtakingly beautiful, large mountaintop temple that looked like it had been standing for centuries.

The scent of jasmine, sandalwood, and camphor wafted through the air, accompanied by the low ringing of bells from deep within the temple.

Despite the turmoil in her mind, she couldn’t help but appreciate the ornate stone pillars etched with figures of deity and warriors, the wild jasmine curling through cracks in the ancient stone, and the heady scent of incense filling the crisp morning air.

The sound of the bells grew louder. And then, amidst the mist, she saw him.

Ram stood at the top of the stairs, looking every inch a maharaja.

He was dressed in traditional ivory and gold-colored clothing with heirloom jewels cascading down his chest. A gem-studded turban sat atop his dark hair, and his forehead was marked with vermillion. His presence was commanding, even without the usual entourage of bodyguards surrounding him.

He watched her with unreadable eyes as she climbed toward him, her bangles and anklets echoing faintly on the polished stone steps.

As soon as she reached him, he placed his palm on the small of her back and led her inside the temple. At his touch, she felt her skin breaking out in goosebumps, and she suppressed a shiver of awareness.

Ram led her through the archway, past the ancient carvings of deities and royal seals, into the inner courtyard.

There was a large open space surrounded by stone pillars wrapped in mango leaves and draped in red-and-gold cloth.

At the center of it was the holy fire pit.

As soon as she and Ram sat down, the priests began chanting.

Her heart thudded as she slowly looked around. Apart from the dozen priests, she and Ram, no one else was around in the courtyard.

Ram’s family was missing. She knew Ram had a mother and three brothers.

She turned to look at him. “Where is your family?” she asked.

He turned to look at her. “You’ll meet them after the wedding,” he said.

Her stomach twisted.

After?

She realized he was marrying without his family’s knowledge.

Everything was happening too quickly. She then realized why. Why the legal team rushed her. Why the hospital board had been silenced. Why the contract was pushed through within forty-eight hours.

He didn’t want her to have the chance to back out.

There would be no time for panic. No time for second thoughts. No time to tell anyone . And no time for someone to stop the wedding.

This entire wedding was a trap.

Before she could react, the priests gave her instructions to follow. She automatically followed them in shock.

The sacred fire blazed as the ceremony proceeded.

Towards the end, the priests asked her to touch Ram’s forehead to hers to signify an unbreakable bond. She didn’t move. But soon, Ram’s forehead touched hers.

She shivered at the contact even as panic gripped her.

The priests gestured her to place her hand in Rams. When she didn’t move, Ram lifted her hand and held it in his. His grip was firm and possessive. He then took a ring that held Devara insignia and slipped it on her finger.

The fire crackled, and the chanting rose.

A gold pendant strung on a sacred thread was handed to Ram on a silver plate. He tied it around her neck, making her feel like it was a chain locking her fate into place.

The conch shells blew and the temple bells rang louder. Soon, the priests declared the marriage was complete and blessed the couple. Ram thanked the priests before standing up and extending his hand to her.

Sanjana stared at his hand for a long second before placing her trembling fingers in his.

His grip was firm and possessive as he led her back through the temple corridor.

Right outside, Ram’s assistant waited with a file in his hands. Ram took it and signed on it before passing it to her.

“Sign here,” Ram softly commanded.

When Sanjana read it, she saw that it was a form to register marriage. With slightly trembling fingers, she signed next to Ram’s bold signature.

Ram took the document and handed it to his assistant. “Have the formal procedure completed by the time we return to the Devara palace this evening,” he instructed.

“Yes, sir.”

Ram held her arm and led her out of the temple premises.

The sound of bells faded as they descended the steps and went towards the waiting helicopter.

He helped her get inside first and then climbed in and sat next to her. Inside, the cabin went silent as the doors shut. The rotor blades started, and the temple bells faded into the distance.

She looked down at her hands, trembling under the weight of gold bangles.

When the helicopter lifted into the sky, reality hit her hard. She was married to Ram Devara.