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.
CHAPTER 20
Yamini had not seen the Gaur Palace in five years.
From the helicopter window, it looked smaller than she remembered, though not physically.
Amidst the mustard fields, the palace still stood with pale stone walls weathered by heat and time, its domes rising above dry gardens and courtyards. The carved balconies were still there. The old mango trees still leaned over the east wall. The narrow terrace where she had hidden from tutors and relatives still ran along the second floor.
But something had changed. Or maybe she had.
The helicopter descended toward the slightly overgrown yet flat land in front of the palace. Yamini’s fingers tightened around the edge of her dress.
Across from her, Bharat sat in complete silence, dressed in a dark charcoal suit with his sunglasses in place.
Yamini tried not to look at him. It was difficult not to.
He looked as though he were arriving for a business meeting rather than walking into the home of the woman who had once abandoned him before their wedding.
She still couldn’t believe that he had agreed to come with her so easily.
And now, he looked as though this was simply one more task arranged into his day.
The helicopter landed smoothly. Security moved first, then Bharat stepped out. Yamini followed, her heart pounding harder with every second.
There were no guards at the Gaur palace to receive them. Yamini knew there would only be a meager staff inside. But the helicopter's noise would have alerted her family and the staff inside.
She had told herself she would walk in calmly. Composed. Like a maharani next to Bharat Jogra. But halfway through the overgrown grass, her eager restlessness grew. Yamini couldn’t wait to see her family. She lifted her lehenga slightly and ran. She then hurried up the stone steps and pushed open the main door.
The palace was familiar and strange at once. The marble floor still had the faint crack near the center pillar. The blue glass lamps her mother loved still hung from the ceiling. The portrait of her grandmother still watched over the room with cold eyes.
The first person she saw was her mother, who was just coming down the stairs.
Rani Maheeta Gaur looked thinner than Yamini remembered. Her hair had more silver in it, and the lines around her mouth were deeper. For a brief moment, she simply stood there, one hand pressed to her chest, staring. “Yamini?”
The sound of her mother’s voice nearly broke something inside her.
“Ma,” Yamini whispered.
Her mother came down the steps faster than a royal woman should. She reached Yamini and pulled her into a tight embrace, trembling arms closing around her as though she feared Yamini might vanish again.
Yamini hugged her back, tears prickling her eyes.
The familiar scent of sandalwood and jasmine clung to her mother’s sari. It was the same. Exactly the same. Five years, a marriage, a divorce, a continent away, and her mother still smelled like sandalwood and jasmine.
“Oh, my child,” her mother whispered, voice breaking. “You are here.”
Yamini shut her eyes. She had thought she was prepared for the reunion. But she didn’t realize how much she missed her mother.
“I’m sorry, Ma,” she whispered.
Her mother only held her tighter.
For one brief moment, the past five years collapsed. The shame, the blocked calls, the silence, the divorce, the lonely apartments, the pride she had wrapped around herself like armor. Beneath all of it, she was still a daughter who had wanted her mother to answer the phone.
“Maheeta, who is it?” a familiar voice asked.
