Page 129 of Claimed By the Maharaja
How dare he assume I wait for him each night?
And how dare he decide when he would or wouldn’t visit her room as if she were an appointment in his calendar?
Trying not to look too annoyed, she walked out of the hall, bidding the staff good night before walking toward her room.
When she reached her bedroom, she shut the door harder than necessary.
The large windows framed the dark outline of the mountains, the snow faintly luminous under moonlight.
She removed her jewelry with clipped movements, placing the fish pendant carefully on the nightstand despite her anger.
Her reflection in the mirror looked flushed. Embarrassed and furious.
“As if I would care if he doesn’t come,” she muttered to herself. “Good riddance.”
She changed into her nightclothes and slipped into the enormous bed.
It felt too wide. And it smelled faintly of his cologne and something metallic, which she knew was only in her imagination as he didn’t even stay in the same room as her.
She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling.
The connecting door between her suite and his loomed in her peripheral vision.
“I never wait,” she muttered under her breath.
The silence felt louder than usual.
She turned onto her side. Then onto her back. And then onto the other side.
The mattress was comfortable. The room was warm. And the view beyond the drawn curtains was serene.
But her mind refused to quiet.
She had to wake up early the next day for the temple rituals. And then the Jogra valley gathering.
But she couldn’t fall asleep.
Finally, the grandfather clock in the palace began to chime. By the time the twelfth chime echoed faintly through the walls, her jaw was tight with irritation.
She glared at the connecting door.
“Arrogant controlling jerk,” she whispered. “As if I would ever miss you.”
The connecting door remained closed.
Somehow, that irritated her even more.
CHAPTER 29
Yamini woke up to light.
Not the soft, grey early-morning light she was supposed to see when her alarm rang at 6:30 am. This was brighter.
She blinked at the carved ceiling above her bed, and then her eyes moved toward the clock.
The clock on the bedside table read 6:52.
Her heart stopped, and she bolted upright.
