Chapter 18
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For a second, Yamini’s mind refused to process what she was seeing.
Bharat Jogra stood at the temple entrance.
He wore an ivory silk sherwani, embroidered with fine gold thread that matched her heavy lehenga.
A deep maroon shawl with its borders woven in intricate patterns was draped over one broad shoulder.
A traditional turban with an antique gold sarpech sat perfectly on his head.
Despite the wind, she could see the single strand of diamonds and emeralds that lay at his collar, and also the ceremonial sword that rested at his side.
He looked every inch a maharaja.
Had he not worn his usual sunglasses, she would have thought she was imagining his presence.
But it was him. Standing regally, seemingly untouched by the cold wind.
A sharp, unexpected jolt ran through her.
This wasn’t how she had imagined it. He was supposed to leave her here.
Make her stand in the cold, dressed as a bride, exposed and humiliated.
A punishment for what she had done five years ago.
Bharat Jogra is here.
The words settled into her mind, shocking her further.
She took a step back instinctively.
Behind her, she felt the subtle shift of security, blocking her exit.
She wasn’t entirely sure if they were instructed to protect her or ensure she didn’t run or leave.
Not that she could run anywhere from the top of a mountain.
She stared at Bharat with her heart racing in shock.
Why is he here?
Does he really want to marry me?
Is the contract real?
Her mind raced with questions, but she couldn’t find any answers.
The only person who could answer was the man standing in front of her.
With her heart thudding, she started walking toward him. Each step was steady, even if her thoughts weren’t.
He watched her with an unnerving stillness as she closed the distance between them.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
She felt his heavy gaze on her. “To get married,” he said.
The tone was even in a way that suggested it was an obvious reason.
“Why?” she asked, still unable to believe his words. “Why would you marry me?”
“Because you proposed and I agreed.”
The words were simple, but they still didn’t make sense to her.
“You are the Jogra maharaja! You know very well you have plenty of eligible women who want to marry you. Why marry a divorced, disgraced woman who humiliated you in the past?”
His face remained the same. “No one proposed to me. You did. And I agreed.”
A short laugh burst out of her in disbelief. “That’s a ridiculous reason.”
Of course, no one would dare to walk up to him and simply blurt out a proposal. They would approach through families, connections, and other formal means. He was a powerful maharaja and the son of Rani Suchitra Devi. She had proposed only to provoke a reaction.
She stared at him, her mind unable to believe he really wanted to marry her.
She couldn’t think of what he would gain by it. But there was plenty she would gain from marrying him.
She recalled Pooja’s words.
“Marrying him solves everything. Your inheritance. Your social position. Your family drama.”
If she did marry him, she would no longer be the disgraced princess. Her parents would accept her back. She would also get her grandmother’s inheritance. She would have children that she wanted.
But you won’t have love.
The words crept into her mind. She knew with certainty Bharat Jogra would never love her.
But did love really matter in a marriage?
She was no longer foolish to believe in such things. Practicalities mattered more in a marriage than foolish dreams. She had learned that lesson the hard way.
The Jogra maharaja was wealthy, duty-bound, and stable.
She knew she hadn’t thought through entirely what marriage to him would mean. But right then, she saw him as an opportunity she couldn’t afford to let go.
“Fine,” she said. “Let’s get married.”
He remained still for a moment. Then without a word, he turned and walked toward the temple entrance.
He didn’t look back or offer his hand. He simply walked as though he knew she would follow.
Inhaling a deep breath, she followed him.