Page 30 of A Royal Deception

Their new Maharani was supposed to be a princess, not a servant. Many of the people here had seen me in my previous role as a staff of the Dodiya family. Obviously, they couldn’t even begin to reconcile to this new change.

Especially his mother, the Rani Ma.

She stared at her son in horror until the woman standing next to her gasped again. That one was a regular drama queen, I realised. And she revelled in making people squirm.

“Where have I seen this girl before?” she asked loudly. “Haye! She’s that girl who came with the Dodiyas for the engagement, Didi Sa. She’s a servant. Ranvijay beta, I understand you’re upset with the Dodiyas, but that doesn’t mean you bring home their servant and expect us to accept her as the Maharani of Mirpur.”

“I don’t want to hear that disgusting word again, Kaki Sa! Not about my wife or about anyone who works for me. We don’t live in medieval times anymore. In my house, anyone who works for a living deserves respect. As opposed to certain parasites who live off their family’s wealth and have an eye on what will never be theirs,” His Highness replied, with a meaningful glance at Sangram Singh, who turned an ugly shade of red at the insult.

His Highness’s mother closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths before she turned to his aunt.

“Kumudini, my son has made his choice, and it’s not your place to question it. Can we get on with the aarti? You can’t keep the Maharani waiting outside her new home,” she said calmly.

I felt a wave of respect for this woman who had just had the nastiest shock of her life and yet was on her best behaviour. Behind her, I spotted Sannata Mausi smiling at me warmly. God! I felt like such a fraud. As for my new husband, who the fuck did he think he was to make such grandiose statements about me? I was not now and would never be the new Maharani of Mirpur. And he knew it as well as I did.

So why did we have to go through all these rituals? With every step, they bound me into a relationship that was as fake as Kavya Baisa’s nails. And just as disposable.

“Rani Ma, please end this farce now,” I begged. “I’m not your son’s wife, and I certainly shouldn’t be performing any of these rituals.”

Rani Ma stared at me thoughtfully for a few seconds.

“Did you go to the mandap willingly, or were you dragged there against your will, Shivina?” she asked.

I didn’t know what to say. I mean, it was a bit of both. I did it against my will, but I did it for the money. Although I couldn’t say that to her face.

“There was no gun to my head, if that’s what you mean,” I said carefully.

“That doesn’t sound very willing to me. Ranvijay, you cannot force this woman to be your bride against her wishes,” she said sternly. “Take her back to Sajjangarh with all the respect that’s due to her. I will not condone a kidnapping.”

Oh, thank God! Finally, here was someone who could knock some sense into his hard head. But His Highness shook said hard head stubbornly.

“I’m not letting her go. She’s my wife, and she stays here.”

For fuck’s sake!

“You can’t keep me here against my will,” I hissed.

“Fine! Then I’ll call the police and have you jailed for fraud,” he shot back.

Oy!

“It’s your choice,” he taunted. “Do you think the Dodiyas will come to bail you out?”

They wouldn’t. And he knew that as much as I did. They would find some way to blame me for this disaster, and they’d leave me to rot in prison. And God knows what they’d do to Zarna. Kavya Baisa and her mother were cold-hearted enough to throw her out. If they hadn’t already done that.

A cold wave of fear ran through my body. I had to get to a phone and call Zarna right away. But first, I had to go along with whatever this madman said because I didn’t think I’d be allowed to make any calls from jail. This wasn’t America. This was Mirpur. And the local police here had clear loyalties. They were loyal to whoever paid them the most. And in this case, His Highness had infinitely deep pockets.

If I wanted to see my sister again, I had to agree to become the new Maharani of Mirpur. At least temporarily. Until my new husband had satisfied his need to punish me. Or until he got tired of this game.

With a deep, unhappy sigh, I turned to face His Highness. He read the defeat on my face and smiled with satisfaction.

“Kaki Sa, if you please,” he said, gesturing to the thaali in her hands.

She stared at us dubiously but complied and did the ceremonial aarti. This time, there weren’t any cheers from the crowd or rose petals. Even the nagada and tutari players were shocked into silence. That same ominous silence followed me into the palace as I tipped the kalash over with my right foot and dipped my feet in kumkum water before I stepped into the house.

“What do we do with her now, Didi Sa?” asked His Highness’s aunt in a sibilant whisper.

“Take her to my room,” ordered His Highness.

---