Page 34 of Trapped By the Maharaja
Sanjana stirred awake, sunlight warming her face through the sheer curtains.
She opened her eyes, only to realize she was alone in the massive bed.
She let out a relieved sigh that she didn’t wake up with her head on top of Ram’s chest, but then memory teased her.
A vague recollection of the mattress dipping sometime in the night.
The brush of warmth, and then a muscled arm sliding across her waist and pulling her against a broad, bare chest. The faint scent of sandalwood and citrus in her dreams had felt too real.
Her cheeks burned. She had been too sleepy to pull away. And now the memory lingered, making her angry and aroused all at once.
No. She couldn’t let herself think about that.
She sat up hurriedly, throwing off the sheets. She needed to find Suchitra Devi alone. If there was ever a chance to end this contract before the world saw her paraded as the Devara bride, it was in the next few hours.
She dressed quickly, slipping into a pale green silk dress that felt simple yet elegant. She left her hair loose because of the faint bruise on her neck. Her cheeks burned because Ram continued leaving marks with his passionate bites.
You didn’t mind or stop him then.
Pushing away her unruly thoughts, she stepped out of the suite.
The corridors of the palace already pulsed with life. Maids hurried with silver trays. Men carried garlands of marigold and jasmine. Voices echoed from the far end, speaking in brisk, efficient tones. Every corner of the palace was preparing for the grand event that night.
Her sandals clicked softly on the marble as she entered the dining hall.
Suchitra Devi sat at the head of the long teak table, regal in a gold-bordered cream sari, sipping her tea.
A diamond at her wrist caught the light each time she lifted her teacup.
Around her, staff moved efficiently, arranging fresh jasmine in the vases, refilling the silver teapot, placing dishes of steaming breakfast items, and pouring juice into crystal glasses.
Sanjana’s pulse raced, noticing the absence of Ram once again.
“Good morning, Your Highness,” she greeted, inclining her head.
Suchitra Devi acknowledged her with a graceful tilt of the chin, her eyes cool and unreadable.
Sanjana sat opposite her in the same spot as the previous night. She waited until the staff left, and the heavy doors shut with a muted thud.
Finally.
Sanjana turned slightly toward the Queen, gathering her courage. “Your Highness, I need your help. This marriage needs to—”
The doors opened again.
Her words froze on her tongue as four men strode in.
Ram. And his brothers.
The atmosphere shifted instantly. The four brothers walked in a line of quiet authority, each with distinct features but carrying the unmistakable stamp of the royal bloodline. They were tall, broad-shouldered, and with a presence that commanded attention without effort.
She recalled their names. Bharat, Samar and Viraj.
She had met them on her wedding day at the Rewa palace, but she had been too shocked and in a daze to notice them much.
But now, they were in the Devara Palace to attend the event where Ram’s marriage and his wife would be formally announced to the world.
Sanjana’s heart raced in panic.
They bowed their heads toward Suchitra Devi with perfect synchronicity.
“Amma,” Ram said, his deep voice even. “Mouj,” Bharat followed. “Ma,” Samar’s baritone rumbled. “Mei,” Viraj added, quieter, but with the same gravity.
Suchitra Devi inclined her head in a regal gesture, but her eyes softened as she nodded at her sons.
Then, almost as one, the brothers turned to Sanjana.
“Bajen.” “Bhabhi.” “Bhau.”
The words were a recognition of her place as their brother’s wife.
Sanjana sucked in a breath. “Good morning,” she murmured back a greeting
The staff came in, serving breakfast with efficiency. Rukmini-amma came in and personally served them all with an affectionate smile.
Sanjana returned the elderly housekeeper’s greeting and smile. Feeling Ram’s eyes, and unable to resist, she turned.
Her breath caught when their gazes met. The memory of the previous night slammed into her. The feel of his mouth, his touch, and the heat consuming her body. Her cheeks warmed before she could stop herself. His gaze was steady, dark, unreadable, but she felt it sweep through her like a touch.
She quickly lowered her gaze, gripping her spoon too tightly.
Sanjana tried to steady her pulse, but her mind whirled in panic. The chance she had with Suchitra Devi only moments ago slipped through her fingers once again.
She had only a few hours before the world knew her as Ram Devara's bride.
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