Page 1 of A Royal Deception

CHAPTER 1

RANVIJAY

It was a sad day when a man wasn’t safe in his own palace. The last time the Dodiyas of Sajjangarh had invaded Mirpur Palace, my ancestors had blown the bastards to bits. It was a pity I couldn’t do the same to this lot. I had to grit my teeth and smile in welcome because I was marrying their daughter.

I must have done something really bad in some past life to deserve this fate. Not once. But twice.

My best friends and fellow royals, Randheer and Ranveer, were poster boys for a happy marriage. That was because they had the good fortune to marry two amazing women. Not that those idiots had any hand in it. The only reason they were happily married was because my mother, Her Highness Nandini Devi, had deemed it wise to stick her nose where it didn’t belong and find wonderful brides for two of the biggest morons this side of the Aravalli. Meanwhile, what did she do to her only son?

She found me a woman I could never love because she was practically a photocopy of my first wife, Devika. Blue-blooded and cold-hearted. I knew I should thank Ma for choosing Kavya to be my bride because there was no place in my life for love. I was marrying her purely out of duty. To make sure my palace didn’t fall into the wrong hands.

Speaking of which, why was my fool of a cousin, Sangram, following the bridal party around like a lamb?

I put out a hand and grabbed his arm as he walked past me.

“Eeeee,” he squealed. “Why are you hiding behind the palm tree, Bhai Sa? You gave me such a shock!”

I shook my head in disgust. This was the man who was eyeing my gaddi in the throne room. He didn’t even deserve to be around it, let alone on it.

“I’m not hiding. I’m observing the proceedings from a vantage point. Like our ancestors did,” I said grandly. “Now, spit it out. What are you up to?”

“I’m not up to anything,” he said defensively. “I’m just helping to welcome the bride’s side.”

“Don’t get too comfortable in my home,” I growled, and Sangram quailed visibly.

Before I could grill him some more, his mother called him over, and he scurried away in relief. I resolved to keep an eye on him because he had that same squirrely look that he used to get when he used to try and steal my good whiskey during our Diwali parties. The one I kept hidden in a vault in my study.

“Why are you hiding, RV? It’s your own fucking engagement party!” exclaimed Ranveer, coming up behind me.

“I’m not hiding,” I said for the second time in as many minutes. “Rajputs don’t hide from the enemy. They attack!”

“But the Dodiyas aren’t your enemies. They are your in-laws,” he pointed out.

“Even worse,” I muttered, taking a swig of my twenty-four-year-old single malt. I relished the burn as it slid down my throat. “What’s happening on the politics front, Ranveer? Do you want me to call Chandel and grovel on your behalf?”

“Do you even know how to grovel?” he asked drily, leaning against the parapet.

My engagement party was being held on the massive terrace that connected all the wings of my palace. I had to hand it to my mother. She had organised a wonderful party practically overnight. I didn’t know if the Dodiyas thought I was a flight risk for some reason, but our wedding was chat-mangni, pat-byah on steroids.

Ma and I visited them last week, and they found an appropriate muhurat as soon as we agreed to the marriage. It was as if even the fates were conspiring to get me hitched as soon as possible. One look at Ranveer’s face told me that it might actually be a good thing. He didn’t look like a man who was willing to grovel until he got his political career back on track. He looked like a man who had just blown his career to bits and didn’t give a fuck because he was going to war.

“I’ll learn, man,” I said gruffly. “For your sake, I’ll even learn to grovel. Because I don’t want to see that big head getting blown off just as you found your happy ever after.”

Veer clapped me on the back and let out a bleak laugh.

“There’s no going back, dude. At least not for Dheer and me. Ayush Goel is baying for our blood. Meanwhile, I’ve sworn to clean up my lands just like Dheer cleaned up Trikhera. I will not allow the mafia to terrorise my people anymore,” he swore. “But you have nothing to do with any of this. I think it’s best you stay out of this. Don’t put your career and life at risk over our dreams.”

“You need me to bail you and Dheer out of jail, asshole,” I replied. “You need a shark of a lawyer on your side if you’replanning to take on the mafia. Especially if you’re getting down and dirty and fighting at their level. Besides, I kind of liked how we got rid of the cocaine lab in Trikhera. It was exhilarating to fight for what we believed right.”

“Damn! Maybe Kirori Ji was right after all. War-mongering does run in our blood. But this isn’t just your decision, Ranvijay. You need to find out if your bride is okay with you running around blowing up drug labs in the desert. She might feel differently, and rightfully so,” he reasoned.

I stroked my chin thoughtfully as I pondered this extraordinary point.

“I haven’t given any thought to her reaction,” I admitted. “Although I did tell her that I’d appreciate it if she didn’t interfere in my life beyond a point. She might be my wife, but my personal life is out of bounds to her.”

“Ranvijay,” exclaimed someone wrathfully from behind Veer.

I peered around him to find his pint-sized wife, Isha, glaring up at me.

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