CHAPTER 19
The commercial studio smelled faintly of fresh paint and chai.
Yamini stood near the eastern windows. Below the building, the Dalview lake caught the winter sun and threw it back in fragments of silver and gold. The city spread out beyond it, unhurried at this hour, the kind of view that made her want to stop working and simply look.
Workers moved around carrying light fixtures and unpacking the new equipment.
“He let you keep the kitten,” Pooja announced from somewhere behind her, her voice carrying the particular tone of someone presenting evidence in a court case.
“He didn’t let me keep the kitten in my room,” Yamini corrected, turning to see Pooja’s shocked and excited face. “He sent the kitten downstairs to a designated space. Away from the main corridors.”
Yamini was still annoyed by the fact.
But Pooja didn’t seem to think sending the kitten away from her room was cruel.
“The Jogra maharaja allowed a stray kitten into his palace for you!”
Yamini’s heart skipped a beat when it was presented that way. But Yamini knew the truth.
“He’s probably scheming something,” she muttered.
Pooja stared. “What?”
“He probably allowed it because he’s planning something bigger. Like letting me bond with Sheru and then making it disappear suddenly.”
Pooja exhaled dramatically. “How can you not see it?”
“See what?”
“Your husband gives you the most premium studio space in the country. He offers unlimited access to his money. And he lets you keep a stray kitten in a palace! He is practically wooing you!”
Yamini shook her head. Bharat Jogra didn’t woo. He only issued commands.
“Ours is a contract marriage,” Yamini muttered. “He isn’t required to woo.”
Pooja didn’t look convinced. “Oh please. The Jogra maharaja is definitely wooing his wife.”
Yamini opened her mouth to retort, but her phone rang.
It was an unknown number. She answered it, wondering if it was someone from the PR company. She was waiting for instructions to begin working on the next Jogra steel plant.
“Hello?”
“Yamini.”
One word was all it took for her to recognize the voice and the authority it carried.
“Rani Ma,” Yamini said, automatically using the term of endearment she had used since her childhood.
Pooja’s eyes widened as she realized who was on the call.
“I am calling to speak with you about the formal announcement,” Rani Suchitra said. Her tone was even. Composed and regal. But it was different from how Yamini remembered it.
The warmth Yamini had grown up knowing was completely missing.
Her chest tightened.
“The announcement event,” Rani Suchitra continued, “will formally introduce you as the Jogra Maharani to the royal community, the press, and associated dignitaries. I am calling to inform you that preparations are underway and your presence will be required.”
“I understand,” Yamini said, trying to keep her voice steady. “But I… I haven’t informed my family yet.”
There was silence.
“You have had sufficient time,” Rani Suchitra said at last.
Yamini knew she was right. Nearly two weeks had passed since the wedding, but Yamini had yet to inform her parents.
She hadn't told them because telling them would make it real. Undeniable. And some stubborn, self-protective part of her had been waiting. For what exactly she still didn’t know. But she expected Bharat Jogra to do something that would publicly humiliate her or destroy her.
“Things have been… strained with my family. But I will let them know.”
There was another pause. Longer this time.
“I see,” Rani Suchitra replied. Yamini wasn’t sure whether she imagined a slight softening in tone.
“But do not take too long,” Rani Suchitra added. “The announcement cannot be delayed beyond what is necessary. The longer it is withheld, the more it becomes a problem.”
“I understand,” Yamini said again. “I'll speak to them soon.”
“See that you do,” Rani Suchitra said. And then, there was a small pause before she added, “Take care of yourself, Yamini.”
The line disconnected.
Yamini stood holding the phone for a moment longer than necessary.
Take care of yourself.
It wasn't warmth. But it wasn't coldness either.
She lowered the phone slowly.
Pooja nearly exploded. “Oh my god. Rani Suchitra Devi called you!”
Yamini nodded. “She wants to make a formal announcement of the marriage.”
“Of course! The world should know you are the Jogra maharani!”
Yamini wasn’t too sure about that. “I don’t know about the world. But I have to tell my parents for sure.”
Pooja waved her hand. “Your parents will be happy and excited. Who wouldn’t want the Jogra maharaja as their son-in-law!”
Yamini knew that was true.
“Call your parents and tell them right away. I’m leaving now.” Pooja picked up her handbag. Then she looked at Yamini with a mischievous grin. “I can’t wait for the announcement. The world should know. And more importantly… Tina Mehta should know.”
Despite herself, Yamini laughed.
As soon as Pooja left, Yamini went to the editing room and shut the door.
It was silent inside.
She then pulled up her mother's contact number and dialed it.
It didn’t ring the first time.
She tried it a couple more times, and the same strange sound persisted.
Her heart twisted painfully when she realized her number was blocked.
Yamini’s father must have ordered it.
She had known it would happen. She had even prepared herself for it during the last heated call.
And yet, it still felt like a door shutting in her face.
She sat with that for a moment, in the quiet of the editing room with its smell of fresh paint and the muffled sounds of workers outside.
Pushing the hurt away, she began to think practically.
I have to inform them.
She realized the only way to inform them of her marriage was to go personally.
But she doubted if her father would allow her anywhere near the Gaur palace.
Unless Bharat Jogra goes with me.
Her heart jerked at the thought. She knew her parents would not only welcome her but also believe she was married to Bharat Jogra if he accompanied her.
Will he agree?
She wasn’t too sure. But she had to convince him.
She pulled up her phone, only to realize with embarrassment and disbelief that she didn’t have Bharat Jogra’s number.
They had been married for nearly two weeks. She let him into her bed each night. But she still didn’t have his phone number.
Her cheeks warmed at the absurdity of it.
After a moment’s hesitation, she scrolled and tapped the security contact saved in her phone.
“Good afternoon, Your Highness,” the security head said promptly when he answered.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Tikku,” Yamini replied. She cleared her throat. “I… I need Bharat’s number.”
There was only a short pause on the other end.
“Yes, Your Highness,” he said smoothly. “I’ll send it to you right away.”
She murmured a thank-you and ended the call, mortified by how strange the request must have sounded.
Less than ten seconds later, a message came through with a single number and no commentary.
She stared at it.
This is ridiculous, she thought. I’m married to him.
Still, her thumb hesitated before she tapped call.
She stood up from the chair without meaning to, the way she always did when she was nervous about something.
It was the middle of the day. He would be in meetings. Or at the steel plant. Or doing a hundred things that didn’t include answering calls from a wife he barely spoke to.
The phone rang.
She wanted to end the call at the third ring when it was answered.
“Yes?”
His voice was low with a hint of curtness.
Her heart jumped.
“I—hi,” she said, suddenly aware of how unprepared she sounded. “It’s… It’s me. Yamini… your… uh… wife.”
“I know,” he replied.
Her cheeks burned.
She felt ridiculous. “Are you busy?”
“No,” he said.
She took a breath, steadying herself. “Your mother called me today. She wants to announce our marriage publicly.”
There was a brief pause.
“Yes,” he said. “That was expected.”
“I told her I needed time,” Yamini continued. “I haven’t told my parents yet.”
There was another pause. “I see.”
“I’d like you to come with me,” she said. “To my parents’ home so I can tell them.”
Silence stretched across the line.
Her pulse quickened. She braced herself for refusal, for cool logic, for some explanation about why it wasn’t necessary.
“I’m free tomorrow,” he said. His tone was curt, matter-of-fact. “We’ll leave at 10, after breakfast.”
She blinked. “You… you’re agreeing?”
“Yes.”
Just that single word, and relief washed through her.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“There’s no need to thank me,” he replied. “Your parents need to be informed.”
Of course. It was a royal duty for him. Nothing more.
“I’ll arrange the details,” he added. “Someone will inform you of the time.”
The call ended without goodbyes.
She lowered the phone, feeling both annoyed and grateful.
It might be a royal duty for him. But for her, his presence would make her parents accept her back into the family.
Tomorrow, she would face her parents.
She closed her eyes, imagining it.
Her parents would be stunned. Then proud and excited. The irony of it all made her chest ache. Their unruly daughter, the one who had humiliated them by running from a royal wedding, had somehow married the same man she had once ditched.