Page 105 of Trapped By the Maharaja
But there was one person who didn’t extend such courtesy to Sanjana.
Sania Kolli stepped forward. “Your Highness,” she gushed, her eyes gleaming as though she finally had his attention. “I’m so glad the hospital’s expansion project is going on smoothly under your guidance.”
Ram’s gaze slid to Sania with cool detachment. “You’re misinformed,” he said. “The hospital expansion is being led by my wife, Maharani Sanjana. If you have questions or admiration to offer, you can direct them to her.”
Sania’s smile faltered. The humiliation was visible in the quick flush creeping up her cheeks. She stepped back, forced to mask her seething with a shallow laugh. “Yes, of course.”
Ram didn’t give Sania another glance. His palm pressed against the small of Sanjana’s back, guiding her forward.
“Maharani Sanjana,” one of the organizers urged gently, smiling as though to soften the weight of expectation. “Perhaps you’d say a few words to open the event?”
Her throat went dry. Words. She hadn’t prepared any words.
Panic flickered through her. She almost turned toward Ram, ready to whisper that she couldn’t. But when she looked at him, her breath caught.
His dark gaze held hers, and something steadied inside her.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and went up on the makeshift dais that was prepared for the event.
“Good afternoon,” she began. “I am Sanjana Shetty. I would like to thank everyone for attending the Devara Trust Foundation event today.”
A ripple of polite nods went through the crowd.
“I’ve spent most of my life in hospitals, surrounded by children. Children who are brave in ways adults often can’t comprehend. Some of them dream of being teachers, doctors, or dancers. Some only dream of waking up tomorrow without pain. And that’s why schools like those supported by the Devara Trust matter. They give children not just an education, but hope.A chance to build futures that illness, poverty, or circumstance might otherwise deny them.”
Her voice steadied further with each word, conviction pouring out of her. “Education is the greatest form of healing. It doesn’t only save lives, it transforms them. And for me, as a doctor, as… as someone who grew up knowing what it felt like not to belong, it is deeply personal to stand here today.”
She hadn’t planned to say that. The admission slipped out before she could stop it, but she saw the ripple it caused. The educators nodded, several socialites looked surprised, and Sania’s lips pressed into a thin line.
Sanjana lifted her chin. “So, I thank you all for being here today, for supporting the Devara Trust schools, for choosing to be part of a child’s tomorrow. Because every rupee raised here is not just money, it is a chance. A second chance for some, a first chance for others. And that is priceless.”
For a moment, there was silence and then it was followed by loud applause that filled the grounds.
She looked at Ram and found his gaze still on her. His dark eyes were unreadable, but she noticed the faintest glint of something.
Her cheeks heated and she turned back to the crowd, smiling, even as her heart raced for reasons that had nothing to do with nerves and all to do with a certain maharaja.
As soon as the applause ended, it was followed by a wave as pledges. Educators, philanthropists, and socialites pressed forward eagerly, their names and contributions recorded by the Devara Trust staff.
Sanjana stood on the dais as the numbers grew. The organizers murmured happily that there was enough to fund new classrooms, libraries, and scholarships for the Devara Trust schools, far more than what they had hoped for.
Sanjana felt happy, excited and nervous all at once. It was her first charity event, and it was a success.
Beside the dais, Ram’s unreadable gaze remained on her.
Her heart thudded, realizing the generous donations were most likely made to impress the powerful Devara Maharaja. Had it been just her, there would have been donations, but not at that scale.
A strange warmth filled her chest.
She hadn’t asked for his support, but still, he had come.
She stepped down the dais and joined next to him.
Just as she thought about how to thank him, a movement caught her eye. A man in a waiter uniform pulled out something from a tray and held it high. The glint of steel in the sunlight.
A knife.
Her pulse stopped.
