Page 38 of Trapped By the Maharaja

Just as the helicopter dipped lower, Sanjana looked toward the window, expecting the familiar sprawl of the Devara Palace grounds. Instead, her breath caught.

Below, a village stretched out with hundreds of people filling the open square. As the chopper descended, dust rose in the air.

Her heart thudded. Why are we here?

Before she could ask, Ram was already on his feet. He reached for her hand, steadying her as they stepped out into the swirl of dust and sound of drumbeats and trumpets.

Almost at once, a wave of villagers surged toward them. She stiffened instinctively, nerves coiling tight due to the recent attack. But Ram’s hand on her lower back remained firm and steady. His touch told her there wasn’t any danger .

“Welcome! Maharaja! Maharani!” the voices rose as flower petals rained down on them.

Village elders stepped forward, their palms pressed together in respect. Two of them lifted garlands of fresh flowers and carefully placed them over Ram’s broad shoulders, then over hers.

She forced a smile and bowed her head with palms pressed together in acknowledgment, even as her heart pounded with the sheer intensity of it all.

Ram and she were led through the crowd toward a raised dais. Suchitra Devi and Ram’s brothers were already seated there. But at the center of the dais, two large carved seats had been left empty.

Ram led her up the dais and greeted his mother and nodded at his brothers before sitting in the center seat. Sanjana forced a small smile at Suchitra Devi and Ram’s brothers and sat in the second chair, feeling like an imposter under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes.

Suchitra Devi rose. As soon as her gaze swept the crowd, the drums and the chatter quietened.

She gave a regal nod. “Maharaja, Ram Devara and Maharani Sanjana Devara.”

As soon as the announcement was made, the crowd erupted in loud cheers while the air filled with the sounds of drums and trumpets.

Hundreds of voices shouted Maharani Sanjana, but she felt like an imposter.

I am not a Maharani, and I don’t belong here.

Even as her mind screamed those words, her heart raced when she felt Ram’s hand gripping hers on the armrest. The possessive hold reminded her she was bound to him, whether or not she belonged in his royal world.