Chapter 2
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Yamini didn’t speak until she was out of the ministry building and back on the street.
She flagged a cab and slid into the back seat, giving the driver directions.
Her fingers trembled slightly.
A few minutes later, the cab stopped at the café where she was meeting Pooja for lunch.
Pooja was already seated inside. As soon as she saw Yamini, she waved, her face lit with excitement.
But something on Yamini’s face must have shown because Pooja’s smile dimmed.
“Okay, what happened?” Pooja asked as soon as Yamini sat across her. “You look like you are about to faint or throw up. And you aren’t the kind to do both.”
Pooja was right. She rarely got shaken.
Yamini exhaled slowly. “Bharat Jogra attended the meeting at the chief minister’s office.”
Pooja blinked, then leaned forward. “Oh wow. That’s… interesting. Maybe the rumors about him and Tina Mehta are true. But why do you look shaken?”
“Because I might get fired from the project.”
Pooja was shocked. “What? Why would you get fired?”
Yamini met her eyes. “He saw me.”
Pooja looked confused. “Okay… so?”
Yamini took a deep breath. “Bharat Jogra was the man I ran away from before the wedding.”
Silence fell between them.
Pooja blinked once. Twice. She seemed too stunned to speak.
Yamini didn’t look away. “Five years ago. I told you that my parents disowned me for running away from my wedding. It was with Bharat Jogra.”
Pooja stared as though Yamini had just confessed she’d once robbed a bank.
“Oh my God.”
Yamini understood her friend’s shock.
“You told me you ditched an arranged marriage,” Pooja said slowly. “I assumed… I don’t know.” She waved a hand. “Some short man with a grey moustache and a potbelly who constantly burps.”
“That sounds like my uncle,” Yamini muttered.
Pooja’s eyes widened further. “But Maharaja Bharat Singh Jogra?” She said it like she was saying the name of a myth. “That man is handsome in a way that should be illegal. And powerful. And—” She frowned, processing. “You were engaged to him, and you ran away?”
“Yes.”
“On purpose?”
“Yes.”
Pooja still appeared shocked and confused. “But how did you get engaged to him? Rani Suchitra Devi’s family is allowed to marry only royals.”
Yamini hesitated for a moment. “I’m a royal too,” she muttered. “Princess Yamini Gaur.”
Pooja leaned back, stunned. “Okay, I need something stronger than coffee.”
Yamini exhaled. The confession had been sitting in her chest like a stone. Saying it out loud didn’t make it lighter, but it made it real.
Except for her ex-husband and her immediate family, no one knew Yamini Dhar was Princess Yamini Gaur from the Gaur royal family.
She had used a different professional name because of her father.
During her childhood, her father called photography a frivolous pursuit and made his disapproval clearly known. So, she had used a different last name to submit her photographs for various competitions in which she won several awards.
And even after she had eloped and built a new life in another country, she continued to use the same name for her professional career.
Pooja stared at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because my family disowned me after I married Rahul.” Yamini’s chest tightened. “I’m not exactly a princess anymore.”
Pooja’s expression softened. “That doesn’t stop you from being their daughter.”
Yamini looked away.
“Tell me what happened,” Pooja said, her voice gentling.
Yamini stared at her hands. “The alliance was arranged because our mothers were friends.”
Pooja let out a faint gasp. “As in Rani Suchitra Devi?”
Yamini nodded.
“Okay,” Pooja muttered. “I’m definitely fainting in this café.”
“Don’t,” Yamini said dryly. “I’m not carrying you home.”
Pooja gave a weak laugh, then sobered. “So your mother and Rani Suchitra Devi were friends. And that’s how your marriage was arranged?”
“Yes.”
“So, you knew Maharaja Bharat for many years?” Pooja asked.
“Not really,” Yamini replied. “We only met during the engagement ceremony.” Yamini’s chest tightened at the memory. “He never once spoke to me or even looked at me on that occasion.”
Pooja’s face did that complicated expression people made when they were trying to connect a fantasy man they’d built in their head to a real one. “Not even once?”
“No,” Yamini said. “It was obvious he was going to marry me out of royal duty.”
Pooja watched her carefully. “You’re saying he didn’t like you.”
Yamini let out a soft, bitter laugh. “He didn’t care enough to even notice me.”
Yamini recalled her anger, hurt, and embarrassment.
She remembered sitting beside him in that engagement ceremony. She’d been dressed in deep blue and silver, diamonds heavy at her throat, and she’d felt like a doll placed beside a marble statue.
Bharat had worn a black sherwani and the royal insignia ring. He’d looked stunningly handsome and perfect. Untouchable.
And he’d barely looked at her.
“I tried to talk to him,” Yamini said. “But he didn’t even look at me once or smile because he didn’t think I was interesting enough or worthy of his attention.”
Pooja didn’t smile now. “Your parents didn’t care?”
“They told me to adjust,” Yamini said. “Apparently, loneliness was easier to accept than losing access to power. They wanted me to become… a maharani. Something most young, eligible girls in our circles dreamed of becoming.”
She recalled how she had begged and pleaded with her parents to break off the engagement. But her father got angry and told her to stop throwing a tantrum.
She inhaled deeply. “And then, I made it worse.”
“Rahul,” Pooja said.
Yamini’s fingers curled slightly. “Rahul was… easy,” she said. “He was charming. He flattered and flirted with me. He even said he loved me.”
Yamini’s mouth tightened.
For a second, she saw Rahul as he’d been back then. Always smiling, confident, promising her a life full of laughter and freedom. He’d made her feel free.
And then she saw him as what he truly was. A lying, cheating scum who stole from her. He made her feel stupid for believing him.
Her fingers curled into her palm. “I didn’t want to be trapped,” she continued. “Not in a marriage where I didn’t matter. Not in a life where I had to become someone else.”
Pooja’s eyes softened. “So, you ran away.”
“Yes.”
“And now you’re back,” Pooja said.
Yamini nodded. “I want to rebuild. Start the studio. But I don’t think it will happen the way I want it to.
I will be taken off the PR project and most likely not be allowed to work in those circles again.
” She looked up at Pooja. “I just hope I don’t drag down your reputation and opportunities along with mine. ”
Pooja shifted closer. “You won’t. And even if something happens, we’ll deal with it.”
Yamini badly hoped that was the case.
Pooja looked at her. “What did Maharaja Bharat do when he saw you? Was he angry?”
Yamini’s pulse spiked again at the memory. “No. He simply looked at me… and then he walked away.”
Pooja frowned. “That’s strange. Maybe he didn’t recognize you. You said he barely noticed you back then.”
Hope stirred, hesitant.
Five years ago, she had been draped in blue silk and gold, weighed down by royal jewelry, makeup, and an elaborate hairstyle.
She looked at her now plain clothing with no jewelry or makeup.
Pooja might be right that Bharat Jogra didn’t recognize her.
“But if I keep working on this project,” Yamini said, “he will eventually.”
Pooja nodded slowly. “Maybe. But you are a part of an externally hired PR team. His company team will handle things. Not him.”
Yamini bit her lip. She knew Pooja was right.
And what little Yamini saw or knew of Bharat Singh Jogra, he didn’t seem the kind to sit around and plot revenge for what happened five years ago. He was probably relieved at that time that he didn’t have to marry his mother’s friend’s daughter as a duty.
“You may be right,” she said, steadying herself. “There are chances that he might not recognize me or care enough to take action. But we need to prepare for the worst-case scenario.”
“Don’t worry,” Pooja said. “I’ll handle it if something happens.”
Yamini saw a calculating look on her friend’s face. “How?”
Pooja smiled with confidence. “I have connections to media houses and publications. They would love a story of a beautiful, misunderstood princess who spurned Rani Suchitra Devi’s handsome maharaja son. You will make enough money to open ten photography studios.”
Yamini stared. “You want me to sell that as a gossip story?”
Pooja nodded. “Only as a backup if the handsome but cold maharaja decides to fire you and plot your downfall.”
Yamini groaned and dropped her face into her hands for a second. “Oh God. This is going to be a disaster.”