Page 78 of Trapped By the Maharaja

The door opened once more. Lalita and Kumari entered, each carrying black velvet cases. They placed them on the table.

“From Suchitra Devi,” Lalita said in excitement. “Rajmata wishes you to wear these tonight.”

The lids lifted to reveal diamonds which were dazzling and flawless. A necklace, earrings, and a bracelet, cool and heavy as it locked around her wrist.

By the time the staff stepped back, the late sun spilled into the room, gilding her reflection in the tall mirror.

Sanjana froze.

A stranger looked back at her. A woman draped in crimson and diamonds, regal and untouchable, a Devara Maharani in every sense.

It wasn’t her, and yet, it was.

Her throat tightened.

No, I can’t be the Devara Maharani.

She couldn’t just give up. She had to find a way to stop the announcement from taking place that night.

“Excuse me, I need to speak with Suchitra Devi,” she said, trying to hide the panic in her voice.

The palace staff and the makeup artists inside the master suite looked surprised. Before anyone could stop her, she headed out.

Her pulse raced as she stepped into the corridor. The palace was quieter on this side, but in the distance, she could hear music, voices, and the faint echo of arriving guests.

She made her way to Suchitra Devi’s suite, the long walk to the other side of the palace. She was nearly out of breath, and her palms were damp.

At the door, taking a deep breath, she knocked softly but firmly.

It opened to reveal Suchitra Devi’s assistant, a middle-aged woman who was named Mira. The woman’s expression remained composed despite seeing Sanjana dressed to the brim for the evening announcement.

“I’d like to speak with Her Majesty,” Sanjana said, keeping her voice steady.

The assistant hesitated, but stepped aside. “Please come in, Maharani.”

I don’t want to be the Maharani!

Sanjana wanted to shout those words, but she kept quiet and followed the assistant into the suite.

She passed the sitting room and was taken further inside to the bedroom. Inside, Suchitra Devi stood near her dressing table, already dressed for the evening in a pale gold silk sari that shimmered with understated elegance. She looked at Sanjana, her gaze sweeping from head to toe, but said nothing.

Sanjana didn’t need words. Even with the expensive silk clinging perfectly to her frame, the diamonds catching the light, and every detail flawless, she knew Suchitra Devi still disapproved of her as Ram’s wife. Only a bride from a royal background would be considered fit to be the Devara Maharani.

“I want to discuss something urgent with you,” Sanjana began, her voice quiet but firm.

The queen waited in silence, her expression unreadable.

Sanjana took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Your Highness… It’s about Ram and me. I need your help to speak to Ram and convince him to—”

The door opened again, and the assistant stepped back inside, her tone brisk. “Maharani, the royal families have arrived.”

Suchitra Devi gave a regal nod. “Tell them I’m coming.”

The assistant disappeared once more.

The queen’s eyes returned to Sanjana, her voice soft but commanding. “Come. Join the event.”

It wasn’t a request.