Page 54 of A Royal Deception

A shiver went up my spine at the thought of such a storied heritage. I didn’t even know the names of my great-grandparents, let alone where they’d come from and what they’d done. How the hell was I going to integrate into such a family?

Rani Ma showed us the long picture gallery, and while the women were all beautiful, the men were practically identical. They were just fiercer-looking versions of His Highness with huge moustaches.

“Whose sword is that?” I gasped, running over to admire a massive sword displayed in a glass case in the centre of the picture gallery. It was double-edged and inlaid with rubies and diamonds, and the gleaming steel reflected my awestruck face clearly.

“That sword belonged to the first Maharaja of Mirpur, Raj Rajeshwar Saramad-i-Rajah-i-Hindustan Maharajidhraj Fateh Singh Ji,” explained Rani Ma.

“Wow! How tall was the first Maharaja?” asked Zarna, comparing her height to that of the sword. She was just slightly taller than it was.

“He was said to be almost seven feet tall. His clothes are displayed in the next room, and they certainly wouldn’t fit any man today. And that sword was built for a man of his size. I doubt anyone can swing it around today with as much ease as he did.”

“Has anyone even lifted it lately?”

“Ranvijay lifts it every year when he places it on the gaddi for the weapons puja. Only the Maharaja is allowed to touch it. And trust me, it takes him the better part of an hour to clean it properly,” Rani Ma said with a laugh.

I gave a sigh of pleasure at the idea of His Highness wielding that mighty sword.

“How many weapons do you have?” I asked with wide-eyed wonder.

“You’ll see,” said Rani Ma. “The armoury is the next spot on the tour after the clothes.”

Zarna cooed over the gorgeous clothes worn by ancient Mirpur royals, but I couldn’t care less about that. I was dyingto see the armoury. I had always wanted to learn fencing and sharpshooting, and Baba had arranged for lessons from the palace instructor when we moved to Sajjangarh. I had worked very hard to learn both, but I’d had to stop my lessons after he died. We bumped into His Highness on the way to the armoury, and Zarna begged him to join us after a sly, knowing glance at me.

“Di is simply mad about weapons, RV. You should totally show her your armoury,” she said with a wink.

I loved my sister. I truly did. But there were times when I could have cheerfully strangled her, I thought viciously.

“How about this? You take Shivina to the armoury, and I’ll take Zarna to the stables,” suggested Rani Ma.

“But I want to see the other swords too,” complained Zarna.

“No, you don’t,” said Rani Ma meaningfully, and my sister was nothing if not quick on the uptake.

She blew us kisses and gleefully left us alone to stew in our shared embarrassment.

“I’m sorry. My mother has the tact of a ten-year-old,” muttered His Highness. “I’m sure you don’t want to see a bunch of rusty old swords. What would you rather do instead?”

“If you don’t mind, I really do want to see the weapons,” I replied.

He arched a disbelieving brow but led me to the armoury willingly.

I exhaled happily at the smell of metal and gun oil that filled the air. It was the best smell in the world, I thought, hugging myself at the sight of so many gorgeous weapons.

“Zarna was serious. You do like weapons,” said His Highness in surprise.

“Is that so strange?” I asked uncomfortably.

Kavya Baisa had always mocked me for it and called me unfeminine.

“Well, itisunusual, but I wouldn’t call it strange. Do you know how to use any weapons?”

There was a strange note in his voice.

“I fence and shoot. But what would you call it, if not strange?” I persisted, wanting to know exactly what he thought of my hobbies.

He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and one ankle crossed over the other as he studied me.

“I think I’d call it sexy,” he murmured, and ohmigod! I felt a gush of wetness flood me.

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