Caged by the Crown
The Arrival
I was supposed to be working at a wedding.
Not walking into a royal trap.
When the envelope arrived at my Delhi apartment—no sender, no logo, just a blood-red wax seal—I thought it was a joke.
“You have been selected to plan the royal wedding at Rathore Palace, Rajasthan. All arrangements made. Your presence is expected.”
It was everything I ever wanted. A chance. A breakthrough. An escape.
But now that I’m here, something doesn’t feel right.
Arrival at Rathore Palace
A man in a white uniform bowed stiffly at the gates.
Devraj
I’m Devraj. Head of hospitality. You’ll be escorted to your room.
Behind him, two guards stood silent, armed.
My smile faltered.
Aaliya Khan (FL)
Thank you. Uh… is the bride around?
Devraj’s polite smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Devraj
The royal family will summon you in time. Please wait.🙂
I was shown to a luxurious suite, large enough to house ten of me. Fresh flowers, silk bedding, and a silent maid named Gulnaaz, who wouldn’t meet my eyes.
Aaliya Khan (FL)
Can you tell me where the client is?
Gulnaaz (maid)
No one tells the prince what to do, madam.😓
Aaliya Khan (FL)
The prince?
Aaliya Khan (FL)
I thought I was hired by the wedding planner’s team.
Gulnaaz (maid)
There is no team.🙂
By evening, I was pacing in my room. No emails. No introductions. Just a pile of catering menus and a dummy wedding budget folder someone left at my door.
That’s when I knew—this wasn’t a job. This was something else.
And then… my phone buzzed.
Unknown
📱He handpicked your room.
Unknown
📱Don’t trust the prince
Unknown
📱If he calls you to room 302, don't go.
Aaliya Khan (FL)
📱Who the hell are you?
Unknown
📱The one trying to save you from him.
Corridor near the Courtyard – Same Evening
I needed air. Or answers.
I stepped into the open courtyard where a few guards roamed like shadows. That’s when I saw him.
Aaliya Khan (FL)
Rajveer Singh Rathore. *mumbled*
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
.
Leaning against the balcony ledge, dressed in black, watching the moon as if it owed him something.
When I moved, his eyes snapped to me.
Just intensity—like he already knew me.
She’s still curious. Good.
But that won’t last.
By dawn, she’ll understand she never walked in on her own.
Aaliya’s Room – Later That Night
No one stood outside—only a box on the floor. Inside: a folded note written in elegant, calligraphic handwriting.
Room 302. Midnight. Come alone.
For answers you’re not supposed to find.”
— A Friend
My heart skipped.
A trap?
A warning?
Or finally… someone who could explain what was happening?
I checked the corridor. Empty.
Curiosity whispered louder than caution.
Gulnaaz returned with a tray of sweets.
Gulnaaz (maid)
Your favorite, madam. Jalebi and kesar milk.😊
Aaliya Khan (FL)
How do you know my favorite.🤨
She didn’t answer. Just bowed and walked out quickly.
I stared at the sweets, untouched. My throat suddenly dry.
The palace knew more than it should. And now, a stranger wanted me to meet him in a room I’d never seen.
Corridor to Room 302 – Midnight
The hall was darker than usual. Candles flickered. No servants in sight.
My sandals clicked softly as I reached the third floor.
I paused. My heart pounded.
I lifted my hand to knock—
But the door opened on its own.
And inside stood the man from earlier.
？？？
I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.
Author
What do you think, who the person is in 302 room?
Author
This is my new story. Hope you all will like.
Author
If you have any suggestions for the story, please let me know.
His Game Begins
The door to Room 302 swung open before I even knocked.
Warm air spilled out, scented with musk, oud, and burning cedarwood. The room was dimly lit — only the fire crackling in the hearth, casting shadows on deep red walls. Heavy curtains. Velvet furniture. Silence.
The Crown Prince of Rajasthan.
And the man who had orchestrated every step I’d taken since I arrived.
He stood by the fireplace, holding a glass of dark wine, his shirt half unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up.
He didn’t look surprised to see me.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.❄️
His voice was smooth. Calm. But something in it coiled around me like silk-covered steel.
Aaliya Khan (FL)
What is this place? What’s going on? This is not a wedding planning job—
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
No. It’s not.❄️
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
It never was❄️
He placed the glass on the mantel and walked toward me.
Every movement deliberate. Every inch closer making the air harder to breathe.
I should’ve demanded answers, screamed, anything.
But I stood frozen. Because something about the way he looked at me—
Like he already owned me.
Like he had for years.
He stopped only a foot away from me.
Close enough to feel his heat.
Close enough to make my pulse race.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
You still don’t remember me, do you?
Aaliya Khan (FL)
What are you talking about?
He didn’t answer. Instead, he walked to the table in the center of the room and picked up a dark leather folder.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Read this.
The pages inside were thick, expensive. And typed neatly.
AGREEMENT OF SUBMISSION AND STAY
Clause 1: You will remain at Rathore Palace indefinitely.
Clause 4: You will wear only what is provided to you.
Clause 6: Your schedule, meals, and movements will be managed.
Clause 9: Physical and emotional obedience to the prince is expected.
Final Clause: Consent is assumed upon signature. No termination clause applies.
Aaliya Khan (FL)
You think I’m going to sign this?🤨
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
I don’t think.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
I know you will.
I dropped the folder and turned toward the door—
Aaliya Khan (FL)
You planned this... all of this. Why?
He circled me now, like a panther — slow, sure, calculating.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Because you belong here, Aaliya.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Because you were stolen from me once.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
And I won’t let it happen again.
Aaliya Khan (FL)
I don’t even know you.
He stopped behind me. His breath brushed the back of my neck.
I could feel the heat of him—but he never touched me.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
But your body does.*low*
Something in his words… unlocked something small and buried inside me.
Familiar.
Unsettling.
Like I had seen him before, felt his presence… in another lifetime.
He finally moved in front of me again. Calm. Composed.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Sign it. And I’ll make sure you never have to ask for anything again.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Refuse… and you’ll still be mine. But I’ll be less gentle.
This was insane. I should scream. I should fight.
But his voice…
His eyes…
The way he looked at me like I was the only woman in the world who mattered—
It made me feel things I couldn’t explain.
Not fear.
But something far more dangerous.
He stepped closer again and whispered:
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
I won’t force your hand, Aaliya.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
But if you choose to stay…
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
You’ll learn to kneel.
Author
will Aaliya agree to sign the contract or...
The First Submission
He let me go.
After refusing to sign his twisted contract, I stood my ground — and instead of forcing me, Rajveer walked to the door… and opened it.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
I don’t want you to obey out of fear.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
I want you to crave it.
And with that, he let me leave Room 302.
Was the way I couldn’t stop thinking about his voice.
His words.
His presence.
Aaliya’s Room – Next Evening
The palace had been too quiet all day.
My breakfast tray sat untouched.
The contract he’d offered me the night before? Folded, sitting on the corner of my desk… like it was breathing.
Gulnaaz entered, silent as a shadow. She carried a flat black box.
Gulnaaz (maid)
From the prince.🙂
She lingered. This time her eyes met mine.
Gulnaaz (maid)
He said… it’s not a lesson. Just a conversation.
But the fear in her voice said otherwise.
She left before I could ask anything.
Inside the box: a crimson silk robe — thin, expensive, dangerously soft.
And a single ivory card with ink that looked freshly dried.
Room 302. 9 PM.
Come without questions.
You still have a choice… for now.
I could’ve stayed in this room.
I could’ve ignored him.
But I didn’t.
Instead… I wore the robe.
And walked straight back into the lion’s den.
Corridor to Room 302 – 8:59 PM
The halls were colder tonight.
Or maybe it was my nerves.
As I approached the door, it swung open without a knock.
And he was there.
The room was dimly lit with low golden candlelight. No chandeliers. No harsh shadows. Just warmth and stillness.
Rajveer stood near a velvet chair, arms crossed, watching me.
His gaze slid from my bare feet, up my robe-draped body, and locked onto my face.
A smirk played on his lips.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Still unsigned.
Still in my robe.
Still following my time. 😏
Aaliya Khan (FL)
I didn’t agree to anything.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Didn’t you?🤨
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
You wore what I gave. Came when I asked.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
No paper needed, Aaliya.
You’re obeying me already.
Close enough that his scent—sandalwood, wine, power—wrapped around me.
Between his fingers: a black silk blindfold.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Put this on.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Because the first thing I want is your trust.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Your sight is yours. Surrender it, and I’ll show you who you are underneath the light.🔥
I stared at the silk. At his face. At the stillness in the room.
Then—against every ounce of logic—I took the blindfold and slowly slid it over my eyes.
Darkness.
Everything else vanished.
The candles. The tension. The pressure.
Only my own heartbeat remained.
And then...
His voice. Right behind me.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Good girl.*whispering*
My knees nearly buckled at the sound.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
You think I want to touch you?
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
No.😏
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
I want you to ache for it.
To feel my presence without needing proof.
He walked behind me. Around me. I couldn’t track his steps—only feel the heat that came and went.
I turned my face slightly.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
What do you feel, Aaliya?
Aaliya Khan (FL)
I don’t know…
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
You do.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
You just don’t want to say it out loud. 🔥
The next moment, I felt his breath on the nape of my neck.
Then—
Not a single touch.
Only the feeling of air shifting.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
You came here thinking I’d devour you.😏
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Instead, I’m letting you burn.🔥
He exhaled against my collarbone. My robe fluttered slightly. I gasped.
But still… no hands. No fingers. No lips.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Tell me, Aaliya,
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Which is worse—being taken or being left wanting?
He was right.
This was worse.
Because I was begging inside and I hadn’t even opened my mouth.
And he hadn’t touched me.
Not once.
The blindfold slipped off.
I opened my eyes and he was right there—barely inches away.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
You still think power is in contracts.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
But you tied that silk yourself.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
And gave me everything… with no ink at all.
He stepped back slowly.
Letting the tension hum between us like a live wire.
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
Next time, Aaliya...
Rajveer Singh Rathore (ML)
You’ll ask me to blindfold you.
And then he turned his back on me.
The conversation was over.
But my mind?
Still trapped in that room.
Aaliya’s Room – Later That Night
I stumbled in, legs weak. Hands shaking.
I collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling like it could explain what just happened.
Unknown
📱You let him blindfold you?! 😨
Unknown
📱He doesn’t even need to touch you anymore.
Unknown
📱You’re slipping, Aaliya. And soon you won’t know what’s yours and what’s his.
Aaliya Khan (FL)
📱I tied it myself…
Aaliya Khan (FL)
📱And I don’t know what scares me more…
Aaliya Khan (FL)
📱That I liked it.
Unknown
📱Then he’s already inside you. And he hasn't even begun.
I hadn’t signed.
But something had been surrendered.
And the scariest part?
I didn't regret it.
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