"Are you sure? It's no trouble—"
"I'm sure."
She closed her laptop and stood, moving toward the kitchen with measured steps. This wasn't the first time. It wouldn't be the last.
In the grand scheme of humiliations she endured in this house, being ignored by the servants barely registered anymore.
The kitchen was bustling with staff preparing lunch. Nimisha navigated to the tea station, finding a clean cup and starting the kettle herself.
The cook, Lakshmi, glanced over. "Mrs. Ranawat? Do you need something?"
"Just making tea."
"I can do that for you—"
"I've got it. Thank you."
Lakshmi nodded and returned to chopping vegetables, but Nimisha caught the exchanged looks between the staff. The unspoken question: Why is the mistress of the house making her own tea?
Because asking for it apparently didn't work.
She finished preparing her tea and returned to the sitting room, only to find it now occupied by not just Kritika, but Saroj as well.
"There you are," Saroj said. "We were just discussing the gala seating arrangements. Since you'll be handling those, we should go over the guest list."
Nimisha set her tea on the side table and took her seat. "Of course."
"The Mehras need to be near the front, obviously," Saroj began. "And the Kapoors—they're major donors. The Sinhas should be at table one with us..."
The list went on. Nimisha made notes, nodded in the right places, and watched as Saroj and Kritika essentially planned the entire seating chart without her input.
She was a secretary, not a planner.
"Oh, and make sure Kabir is at our table," Saroj added. "Since he's practically family now."
"Of course."
"He seems like a nice young man," Kritika said. "Very successful for his age."
"Tanisha has excellent taste," Saroj agreed. "Not like—" she caught herself, but the implication hung in the air.
Not like Samarth, who'd been forced to marry someone unsuitable.
"I should get back to my writing," Nimisha said, gathering her things.
"Of course, beta. Your little stories." Saroj's tone was dismissive. "Though do try to finish the seating arrangements by tomorrow. We're running behind schedule."
"I will."
Nimisha retreated to her study, closing the door firmly behind her. She set down her laptop and tea, then crossed to the window, needing to see something other than these walls.
A dark shape in the garden caught her eye.
Bruno.
The dog was sprawled in a patch of sunlight near the fountain, looking utterly relaxed in a way he never did around others.
She smiled despite her foul mood.
