Page 32 of Trapped By the Maharaja
Ram ate with practiced calm, his movements at ease, as though nothing about this day was unusual. She, however, could barely force down a few bites. The thought of the upcoming night made every swallow heavy.
When the palace staff urged her to try more dishes, she murmured an excuse, saying she was full from the meal at the Rewa palace, even though she had barely eaten there due to nervousness as well.
Finally, after several moments, she placed her fork down. “I’m done,” she murmured.
Ram’s dark gaze flicked to hers, unreadable.
“Show Maharani to her room,” he commanded softly.
Instantly, four young women stepped forward.
Sanjana rose to her feet, her legs feeling unsteady. The women led her away, but with every step she took, she could feel Ram’s gaze lingering on her back, heavy and unshakable, even though he hadn’t followed her.
The women guided her up the grand staircase and then through long, winding corridors. The rugs muted their footsteps, but Sanjana’s pulse thundered in her ears.
When the carved doors of the master bedroom suite opened, her breath caught.
The master bedroom was larger than her entire apartment. It was lit by golden lamps that cast shadows across velvet drapes and polished furniture. The massive four-poster bed at the center was covered in red and gold silk with rose petals and jasmine buds strewn on top. The fragrance of the flowers made her stomach flutter with nerves.
The women moved quickly around her, loosening her veil and helping her remove her jewelry. Her heavy saree followed next after removing the pins holding it together with careful hands. Her skin felt sore where the waistband had dug in.
But just as they held a cream-colored silk nightgown, and told her they would assist her for a bath, she shook her head.
“Thank you for your help, but I will get ready on my own,” she said.
The women looked at each other with uncertain looks. “But the Maharaja instructed us—”
“I’ll let him know I insisted,” she said.
The women seemed reluctant, but thankfully, they nodded and left, their anklets chiming softly before they shut the door with a soft click.
Exhaling a deep breath, she walked through another archway that led to a massive bathroom.
Marble floors veined with gold stretched into a sunken bathtub. The tub was already filled with warm, scented water. One side of the wall was covered with a mirror and massive dual sinks.
Ignoring the bathtub, she stepped into the massive stone cubicle and took a quick shower.
When she stepped out and wrapped herself in a towel, she realized she didn’t have clothes, except for the cream-colored silk gown.
With her cheeks burning in anger, she slipped it on and stepped out of the bathroom.
Her heart jerked violently when she saw Ram inside the bedroom. For a moment, she wanted to run back into the bathroom and lock herself inside. But she controlled herself. She didn’t want him to think she feared him. Powerful men like him relished their prey’s fear.
Taking a deep breath, she went into the bedroom.
Ram stood near a window, tall and composed, his ceremonial jacket discarded, his shirt half undone. The lamplight caught on the sharp lines of his face and the broad width of his frame.
His eyes fell on her, dark and unreadable.
The silk gown clung to her damp skin, its thin straps making her feel far too exposed under his gaze.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. For a moment, she held her breath, her heart pounding, but then his expression shifted. He appeared cold and dismissive as he crossed the room, not toward her, but toward the bathroom.
As soon as the bathroom door shut, she went and climbed onto the massive bed. She was physically exhausted from the long, eventful day, and the silk sheets and rose petals felt soft against her skin. But she couldn’t fall asleep because her mind alternated between anger and fear.
He will claim his rights tonight.
She knew he hated her. But he would claim his rights because he needed an heir
