CHAPTER 57
The next few days brought more media coverage and press releases.
Yamini accompanied Bharat to several events as both a member of the PR team and the Jogra maharani.
The conference hall at the Jogra city office was overflowing with journalists. Reporters stood along the back wall, and cameras filled the rear of the room. Banners with the Jogra Steel emblem stood beside the podium, along with the state government seal.
The chief minister's office had insisted on sharing the stage, eager to claim some credit now that the protests had ended.
Yamini stood near the side of the stage, close enough to be photographed beside Bharat but away from the podium itself. It was the final event of her PR project. Months of work had come down to one room filled with cameras and prepared speeches.
Chief Minister Mehta spoke first. He praised cooperation between industry and the government and highlighted his office's role in the outcome.
When it was Bharat's turn, he answered questions about plant safety and expansion plans. As always, his replies were calm, brief, and precise.
“Your Highness,” a familiar woman’s voice greeted behind her.
Yamini turned slightly. It was Tina Mehta, the chief minister’s daughter.
Yamini hadn’t seen her or heard from her after the formal announcement event, where Rani Suchitra had introduced Yamini as the Jogra maharani.
Tina offered one of her polished smiles. “I wanted to congratulate you personally. The photographs were extraordinary. My father hasn't stopped talking about them. He says they've done more for investment confidence than months of official outreach.”
“Thank you,” Yamini said.
“It must be such a relief,” Tina continued, “after everything. The protests. The—” she let the sentence trail, delicate, leaving the gap exactly where she wanted it.
“—rumors. I heard there was a… difficult phase until recently. A friend mentioned that the Jogra security was seen outside a pharmacy building for almost three weeks. People talk, you know how it is.”
“Not really.”
Something tightened around Tina's mouth before her polished smile returned.
“I'm glad everything seems to have settled down.” Tina's eyes didn't match her mouth. “Anyway, congratulations again.”
Tina hurried away towards the front row, where her father had just finished his remarks.
The moderator opened the floor for questions. Hands went up. A reporter near the front asked about the new plant Jogra Steel was acquiring. Another asked about the number of workers expected to be employed there. Bharat answered both with facts and figures, his tone calm and precise.
“I have a question,” a man said loudly, cutting through the room. “For the maharaja. About his wife.”
Yamini froze.
She looked toward the voice.
Her breath caught.
Rahul.
He looked thinner than she remembered. But it was him.
He held up what appeared to be a press badge. She knew immediately it had to be fake.
Bharat seemed to recognize him too because he became still.
Rahul laughed bitterly.
“Tell me, Your Highness. Does it feel honorable, stealing another man's wife?”
The room fell silent.
Cameras turned.
Yamini felt her stomach drop. Several reporters exchanged shocked looks.
“That's enough,” the moderator said sharply, but nobody was listening anymore
Security had already started moving. But it would take a few seconds to reach Rahul.
“A man like you could have had anyone,” Rahul said in a challenging tone. “Why settle for my leftovers?”
Yamini never saw Bharat move.
One moment, he stood behind the podium, his hands resting lightly against its edge.
Next, Rahul was flat on the floor, clutching his nose with a loud cry. Yamini saw that there was blood dripping from Rahul’s nose.
Yamini was shocked.
The room went completely silent.
“Get him out,” Bharat commanded to the security who had now reached Rahul.
But before security took Rahul away, Bharat leaned down slightly and said something to Rahul in a voice too low for anyone else to hear.
Yamini couldn't make out the words. But she saw the change.
Rahul's face lost what little color remained. The bitterness vanished. For the first time since barging into the room, he looked terrified.
Security had Rahul by both arms and dragged him out of the hall. But just as Rahul was being dragged out, Yamini saw his eyes falling on someone in the front row.
Yamini turned to see Tina, who sat frozen and deathly pale. Her carefully composed expression had vanished. The confidence Yamini had always associated with her was gone.
Tina caught Yamini's eye for exactly one second. Then she stood abruptly, murmured something to her father, and left through the side entrance.
Bharat returned to the podium. He flexed his right hand once, testing it, the same clinical assessment he gave everything.
Several journalists were still staring at him in stunned silence while cameras continued to roll.
Bharat adjusted his cufflinks. “The briefing is concluded,” he said.
His tone was calm and absolute.
No one argued.
The moderator blinked, then hurried to end the session while security moved through the room with renewed urgency.
Bharat’s gaze then fell on her as he came to her.
“Let’s go,” he said.
His hand settled firmly at her waist as he guided her toward the private exit.
Several members of his security detail fell into step immediately.
As they reached the corridor, his voice turned cold. “I want to know how he entered this building.”
No one answered.
“I want every person involved identified.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“And I want a complete review of every individual who had access to today's event.”
His tone remained even, which was far more unsettling than anger.
They reached the helicopter.
Bharat helped Yamini inside before turning back to Mr. Tikku.
“He got close enough to speak to my wife.” The mountain air seemed to turn colder. “That will not happen again.”
“Understood, Your Highness.”
Only then did Bharat step into the helicopter and shut the door.
Inside the helicopter, Bharat sat across from her, jaw tight, a muscle working faintly along the jawline. It was the only visible crack in the composure he had already reassembled for the cameras outside.
“That will be in tomorrow's news,” Yamini said.
“I know.” He didn't look away from the window.
“Bharat. You should go back and issue some kind of statement, explain—”
“No.”
His golden-brown eyes came to hers.
“The media will sort itself.”
His voice remained even. But she knew him well enough now to hear what lay beneath that calm.
He wasn't thinking about headlines.
He was thinking about how Rahul had entered the room. And how close he had gotten to her.
By the time they reached the palace, the video was already everywhere on the news, all carrying some version of the same moments. Yamini checked her phone and saw that the coverage wasn't what she had expected.
The Maharaja Who Doesn't Tolerate His Maharani’s Disrespect, one headline read.
Protector, Not Just Royal. Bharat Jogra's Real Response to Public Provocation, read another.
A smaller, more speculative piece asked outright whether the Jogra-Gaur marriage had ever been the alliance everyone assumed, or something else entirely.
Her phone buzzed. It was Pooja.
Pooja: OMG. That was so hot!!
Yamini laughed out loud, the sound escaping before she could stop it.
She found him later in the bedroom.
His jacket had been discarded, his sleeves were pushed up, and his right hand rested under the lamp.
The knuckles had swollen slightly. Purple bruises were already forming.
She crossed the room without a word and took his hand in both of hers.
He let her.
“Does it hurt?” she asked softly.
His gaze settled on her.
“No.”
She exhaled in relief and then brought his bruised hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles.
He went completely still.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then his free hand came to the back of her neck, and he pulled her closer before his mouth covered hers with an urgency that removed all thoughts from her mind.