Yamini’s mouth parted slightly before she caught herself.
How did he know so much about photography?
“I reviewed your award submissions,” Bharat continued. “Your preferred focal lengths suggest you need depth. That property provides it.”
She felt suddenly off-balance, like the ground had shifted without warning.
“You… looked at my work?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said simply.
She was speechless.
“There’s also an option,” he added, already moving on, “to set up a secondary studio here.”
Her breath hitched. “Here?”
“In the palace,” he clarified. “The west wing. Third corridor.”
Yamini shook her head. “That’s not needed.”
“That wing receives indirect mountain light in the late afternoon,” he said. “Golden hour lasts longer there due to the valley angle.”
Her heart raced, knowing how ideal that would be to work in.
“And the view,” he continued, “is unobstructed. It would be valuable for natural-light projects.”
She could already imagine how beautiful the view would be.
But she didn’t trust him.
“Why?” she demanded. “Why are you helping me?”
He paused just a fraction of a second.
“Because you need to work,” he replied.
The simplicity of the answer threw her more than anger would have.
She straightened her back. “I didn’t ask for your help.”
“I know.”
“And I don’t want to owe you.”
“You don’t,” he replied. “This isn’t a favor. It’s efficient.”
So it’s efficiency rather than him being considerate.
She exhaled sharply. “Does everything in life have to be efficient?”
“It keeps things functional,” he said.
What about feelings?
She bit her tongue before she could utter those words.
Their contract marriage wasn’t about feelings. He had made it clear.
