She stood and walked to the window. The gardens lay still under the evening light.
“Bharat is proud,” she said. “His silence is deliberate. His reasons are his own.”
Mira nodded.
“Do you plan to tell the Jogra maharani the truth?” Mira asked.
“No.” Suchitra's voice was firm. She returned to her desk. “My son will tell her himself, when he is ready.”
She opened a drawer and took out an ivory invitation embossed in gold, setting it down on the desk.
“But I will not allow matters to prolong further when they should be spoken.”
Mira understood. “You intend to intervene,” she said softly.
“I intend,” Suchitra said, “to create an opportunity.”
She sat down, her posture straight, her gaze steady.
“My son has asked me for one thing in his life.”
Her voice caught, just slightly.
“And this time, I will not fail him.”
The room went quiet again.
Outside, the gardens stayed still.
Inside, Rani Suchitra Devi had already begun to plan.
CHAPTER 50
Jogra Palace
It was midnight.
The corridor outside the studio was silent.
Bharat stood at the easel while the brush moved slowly across the canvas.
On the canvas, Yamini looked angry.
Her hair was slightly disordered from fury. Her eyes were bright with humiliation. And her jaw lifted in defiance even as grief trembled beneath it.
It was the moment before she had stormed out of his life.
He had memorized that look.
He paused, studying the sharp line of her cheekbone he had just rendered.
The light in the painting caught her eye not with warmth, but with something closer to fire.
He adjusted the shadow beneath them.
Her eyes had always been the same. Right from the day he had first seen her.
He set the canvas against the wall to dry.
