Page 31 of Trapped By the Maharaja
“She’s a doctor,” Ram said, calm but firm.
“Education or a profession does not make lineage!” she cut in, striking her cane once on the floor. “This marriage isinvalid. You’ve broken royal protocol. There is an established vetting process, one that was approved by the Royal Trust. You are expected to choose a bride with a bloodline and a title befitting our royal lineage.”
“I have already chosen,” Ram replied. “The wedding took place in the Devara ancestral temple with rituals performed bythe royal priests, and was done according to Devara customs. There is also a registered certificate signed and filed with the registrar, making the marriage valid in every way.”
“You have broken the rules,” Ram’s grandmother hissed. “You are not allowed to make a spectacle of us. Of our family lineage.”
“I am the maharaja,” Ram said, his tone suddenly steel. “I get to make the rules or change them. And I get to decide who is worthy of being my wife.”
Sanjana froze.
Suchitra Devi said nothing. She stood beside her son, calm and silent. But Sanjana saw the tension in her jaw and the flash in her eyes.
Rani Vasundara Devi leaned forward, her voice now a low growl. “You may be a maharaja, Ram Krishna Devara. But even maharajas fall if they forget their duty.”
“Maybe so,” Ram replied. “But until that happens, Sanjana is my wife, whether everyone accepts it or not.”
Ram bent to touch his grandmother’s feet. Sanjana did the same, knowing Ram’s grandmother wouldn’t give her blessings to the marriage.
As soon as they straightened, Ram placed his arm around Sanjana’s waist and led her out of the large yet oppressive chamber.
Suchitra Devi followed behind them.
Outside the chamber, she spoke to Ram. “Before you return to Devara Palace, join us for lunch. The cooks are preparing a celebratory meal.”
Ram nodded.
Sanjana’s heart thumped hard.
She wasn’t usually the kind who backed away from a confrontation or a difficult situation. But at that moment, she wanted to get far away from Ram’s family.
She hated Ram for putting her in the current situation. But what she hated even more was the way her pulse leapt at his nearness and his possessive grip that declared her as his, no matter who opposed it. Including her.
CHAPTER 13
Sanjana nearly gasped when she caught her first sight of the Devara palace from the helicopter.
Unlike the Rewa palace, which resembled a storybook palace by a river, the Devara palace was perched high on top of a hill. Bathed in the hues of sunset in orange, red, and gold, the stone and marble fortress-like structure looked both stunning and intimidating, reminding her of the man seated next to her, whose presence filled the small cabin inside the helicopter.
Taking a deep breath, she turned towards him.
The evening light caught on the sharp angles of his face, making him look regal, unreadable, and untouchable. Despite her anger, she was acutely aware of him and their upcoming night.
“Does any of your family live with you in the Devara palace?” she asked.
“No.”
Her fists clenched against her lap while her stomach fluttered hard with nervousness.
By the time the helicopter descended onto the Devara Palace grounds, the sun was beginning to set. Another round of rituals awaited them, priests chanting and attendants scattering petals as she and Ram crossed the threshold of yet another palace.
Sanjana went through the motions while her mind filled with anger and nervousness. She took in the grand staircase, high-ceilinged marble halls, the walls lined with oil paintings of grim-faced ancestors, the antique rugs and the carved wooden furniture polished to perfection.
This will be my home for the next three years.
She was both terrified and furious at the thought.
Later, she was led to a long dining table that could have seated at least forty people, though only she and Ram occupied it currently. Silver platters and crystal bowls covered the length of the table, each filled with elaborate dishes prepared by the palace cook.
