Page 35 of Trapped By the Maharaja

The moment Maharani Suchitra Devi made the announcement, the crowd surged forward. One by one, royals approached to offer their congratulations.

Ram stayed at Sanjana’s side, his hand a firm weight at the small of her back.

“She is beautiful, Maharani Suchitra Devi,” a woman in sapphire silk said, her bangles chiming softly. “And a healer is such a rare blessing for a royal house.”

“A bold choice, Maharaja Ram,” remarked a silver-haired gentleman. “One your father would have admired.”

Sanjana smiled when required, murmured polite thanks, though inside she felt the walls close tighter. Each time she shifted a fraction too far, Ram’s palm pressed more firmly into her back, reminding her she wasn’t going anywhere.

After what felt like hours, the line of royals offering their wishes finally thinned. The music began again, along with conversations.

Before she could be drawn towards a group, she turned to Ram.

“I need to freshen up,” she said.

His gaze slid to hers, but the firm touch at her back didn’t vanish.

“I’ll be right back,” she added, managing a polite smile for the benefit of those nearby.

After a heartbeat’s pause, his hand eased away.

She didn’t wait for him to change his mind. With a nod, she slipped from his side, walking through clusters of glittering silks and tailored coats until the music and chatter began to fade behind her.

Her pace quickened. Only when she was in the shadows of the garden, away from the eyes, did she stop to catch her breath.

It was done. The announcement had sealed her fate. By morning, everyone would know. At the hospital, she would no longer be just Dr. Sanjana Shetty. She would be Maharaja Ram Devara’s wife.

Anger burned low in her chest. Her once peaceful, self-contained life would be irrevocably changed.

All because of Ram’s arrogance and his quest for revenge for the past.

She closed her eyes, trying to compose herself. Just as she tried to think of a way to minimize the damage the announcement would cause to her life and heart, she heard a voice.

“Sanjana.”

She froze before turning.

Rishan.

He stood only a few paces away. The resemblance to Ram was undeniable—the same Devara jawline, the same piercing eyes—but like a copy that could never measure up to the original.

Rishan was a little shorter, his build less commanding, his aura dimmer.

While Ram’s presence demanded attention, Rishan’s constantly sought it.

She sucked in a breath as memories from the past flooded her mind.

Rishan stepped closer, voice lowering, an almost sincere expression settling over his face. “I am shocked seeing you here as Ram’s wife, Sanjana,” he said.

She didn’t say anything.

And then, without warning, he reached for her hand. “Sanjana,” Rishan said urgently. “There are a lot of things you don’t know. Ram didn’t marry you for love. He married you for an important reason—”

Before she could yank her hand away, a deep, low growl cut through the air.

“Don’t. Touch. My wife.”

The voice was unmistakable.

Ram.