A knock sounded on Mriganayani’s door half an hour later, sharp enough to echo in the quiet of the room. Her stomach fluttered as if a trapped bird had suddenly taken flight. She wiped her clammy palms against the soft folds of her skirt, the fabric already damp from her nervous sweat, and hastily walked to the door.

Two female guards stood there, rigid and expressionless, with Vadya bound between them. The sight of him hit Mriganayani like a rush of heat. That smirk, that wicked, knowing smile curled Vadya’s gagged lips, as if he could read every thought running wild in Mriganayani’s head. Mriganayani felt the blush threatening to rise and fought to keep it at bay, refusing to give the man that satisfaction.