“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.
