Redemption of Royals (Royal #1: Book 3) | ✔

24

Surprise ✨

-• I can't trust you •-

Rudra

Is it me?
Or is it love?
Who failed to understand whom?

Taranya adamantly continues with her silent treatment. I'm wired to think it's my fault. Maybe I did something. But I fail to figure out what. I understand this marriage hadn't taken her consent into consideration, but she didn't look so aversed to the idea of marrying me than she's looking now just at the prospect of standing next to me in front of the world.

Hesitantly, I reach out to hold her hand. The tip of my fingers brush the side of her palm. She instinctively brings it to her chest, holding it there, her eyes fixed ahead firmly.

"Speak to me," I request in a whisper. "Did I do something?"

A deep furrow appears in her forehead until she frantically irons it away as a guest couple walks up to us. The poker look on her face is replaced by a gorgeous smile. She thanks the woman, taking the bouquet and handing it to the butler behind.

"Shourya, congratulations, Beta." The woman's husband says.

I can't remember his name, so I settle on smiling, "Thank you, Sir. Did you have dinner yet?"

"We're about to," his wife answers.

"You should hurry up. It's already late." Taranya politely sends them off. "Thank you for coming," she adds as they walk down the stage.

"Taranya-"

"Shourya, please don't." She cuts me off sternly.

I frown.

If I hate something, then it's being clueless about my own situation. I need to know everything so I can control things before they go out hands. If she could tell me what's wrong, I'll work something out. But she won't. She's stubborn like that. I need to find out. Something has to happen between the time I was with Niharika in the room and she was with her family.

Wait.

Did she see me with Niharika in our bedroom?

"Excuse me," I say to her and hurriedly descend the stage. A few guests try to stop and talk to me, but I politely slip out. A minute later, I'm closing the door of my room and walking up to my desk. Yara has to have seen something. His lens are facing the door. If she was there, he must have recorded her real-time. Unfolding the delicate hinges, I put them on and sit down at my desk. He automatically connects to the desktop. "Show me the video recording of 7:30 PM to 7:45 PM." The video starts.

I lean back in my chair. The lens captured the video from a low perspective. But at least I can see the door. Five minutes into the video and I see the door frame form a slit. She might not be visible in the video, but her saree is hard to ignore. I pause the video. "Fuck!" Bracing the table using my elbows, I hang my head low in my hands.

She saw us. She heard us.

Did she misunderstand us?

"Shit."

Getting off the chair, I rip open the door, about to rush out so I can explain her, but startle back as she stands right at the doorstep. At my reaction, she flinches too. I blink. "Sorry, I was coming to you-"