Royal Scandal

Chapter 3: Dean's Office

Siya hated that she had taken it.

Yet as the rain poured down over the open quad, the heavy black jacket blocked the biting wind. The sleeves draped over her hands, swallowing her whole.

Rehansh didn't look at her after she put it on. He simply turned and walked straight into the rain, his black shirt sticking to his back as the water drenched him within seconds.

Mehek jogged alongside Siya, trying to cover them both with a binder.

"Everyone is staring," Mehek whispered under her breath. "Siya, look around."

Siya didn't need to look. She could feel the eyes on her from every sheltered corridor.

"Is that... Raichand's jacket?" a girl nearby whispered, holding up her phone.

"He doesn't share his stuff with anyone," a boy added. "Not even Eisha."

Eisha Singhania was standing near the entrance of the administration building. The moment her eyes landed on Siya wrapped in the black coat, her smile vanished.

She stepped into the center of the hallway.

"Well," Eisha said, her voice clear and sharp. "The scholarship girl moves fast. Day one and you're already walking around in Raichand's clothes? How exactly did you land that?"

A few students paused, watching the scene unfold.

Siya stopped, her cheeks burning hot as she clutched her wet folder against her chest.

"I'm just saying what everyone's thinking," Eisha continued, glancing around to ensure people were paying attention. "Is this how scholarship students secure their spots here?"

Siya's throat tightened. She wanted to throw the jacket off right there, but her own dress was damp and translucent underneath. She felt completely trapped.

"Say that again, Eisha."

The voice was low, cutting right through the quiet hallway.

Rehansh stepped through the entrance doors behind them, rain dripping from his hair and soaking his dark shirt. He walked straight toward Eisha, his eyes cold.

Eisha took a subtle step back.

"Rehansh, I was just—"

"Say it again," he repeated, stopping right in front of her. "Repeat what you just said."

Eisha swallowed, her confidence faltering for a fraction of a second.

"Everyone saw her walk in wearing your jacket—"

"It's my jacket," he cut in smoothly, his tone icy. "I gave it to her. And if I catch one more video, one more picture, or hear another rumor about it, I'll make sure your father gets a personal call regarding your own seat standing here. Do you understand me?"

The hallway fell quiet.

Near the stairwell, Kabir and Advik had just walked up. Kabir stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide.

"Did he just step in for her?"

Advik didn't answer. His gaze was fixed on Mehek, who was standing beside Siya with tight, nervous hands.

The door to the inner office clicked open, and the Dean's secretary stepped out.

"Dean Rathore will see you now. Siya Verma. Rehansh Raichand. Inside."

Siya walked in first, pulling the oversized sleeves over her fingers. Rehansh followed, shutting the door firmly behind them, cutting off the noise outside.

Dean Rathore sat behind a massive mahogany desk. He looked up through his glasses, taking in the scene: Siya submerged in an oversized jacket, and Rehansh dripping water onto the floorboards.

"Sit," the Dean said flatly.

There were two chairs in front of the desk. Rehansh reached out, pulled the dry chair forward slightly, and looked at Siya.

She sat down. He took the remaining chair without a word.

The Dean opened a formal file stamped with the university seal.

"Two updates," Dean Rathore began. "First, Mr. Raichand, your family's paperwork has been cleared. Your donor seat is confirmed."

Rehansh's expression remained completely unreadable.

"Second, Miss Verma, your scholarship status is officially ratified. The board has agreed to maintain both seats this term — one merit, one donor. Neither of you is being removed."

Siya let out a long breath, her shoulders easing slightly.

"Then why are we here?" Rehansh asked.

"Because I do not tolerate public spectacles in my corridors," Dean Rathore said, turning his laptop screen toward them.

On the display was Eisha's video clip, posted under twenty minutes ago. The thumbnail showed Siya standing in the rain, wearing the black jacket. The view counter was already climbing past eight hundred.

The Dean closed the screen with a sharp snap.

"Royal Imperial does not run on internet drama. If the two of you turn this institution into a social media circus, it reflects on all of us."

He pulled out two assignment forms and stamped them heavily.

"You are being assigned a mandatory joint academic project. One week. Old Library, Table 1, from ten to twelve daily. Topic: _Pride and Prejudice_. You work together, you submit together. If one of you fails to show up, both of you lose your standing. If another video surfaces regarding this conflict, both your seats are revoked permanently."

"What?" Siya said, her voice dropping.

"Advik and Mehek are paired. Kabir and Eisha are paired. The assignments are fixed," the Dean said firmly. He then glanced at Siya's shoulders. "And Miss Verma, return the jacket. We run a university, not a fashion statement."

Siya felt her face turn red again.

When they stepped back out into the main hall, the crowd had thinned, but Eisha was still standing near the fountain with her friends.

"What happened inside?" Kabir asked, walking up to them quickly.

"We both keep our seats," Siya said, looking down at the assignment sheet in her hand. "And we've been assigned a seven-day joint project. Old library. Table 1."

Mehek gasped softly.

"Seven days? Just the two of you?"

Advik glanced at Rehansh, then at Siya, a faint smile touching his lips.

"The Dean assigned Darcy and Elizabeth to work on _Pride and Prejudice_ together for a week. He has no idea what he just set up."

Eisha crossed her arms, annoyed.

"Who?"

"Never mind," Kabir said, turning to her. "Delete the post, Eisha. Now."

Eisha scoffed, but Rehansh didn't stay to listen. He pushed open the heavy glass doors and walked straight out into the rain again.

Siya felt her phone vibrate inside the deep jacket pocket.

*Keep the jacket on for now. You're still cold. - R*

She looked through the glass doors. He was standing near the edge of the fountain, rain soaking his hair, watching her through the glass.

A second text arrived right after.

"Return it tomorrow at 10 AM. Table 1. Old library. Don't be late, Scholarship."

Then a third text lit up the screen.

"And read the Dean's handwritten note at the bottom of your project sheet properly. - R"

Siya lifted the paper, her eyes dropping to the bottom margin where Dean Rathore had scribbled in quick, sharp ink:

_Note: The librarian locks the Old Library exterior doors from the outside at 12:05 PM sharp. No re-entry until 2:00 PM. Cellular service is blocked inside the reading room. If you do not leave by 12:05, you will remain inside until the afternoon shift. No exceptions._

Tomorrow at 10:00 AM, she had to meet him in an isolated reading room.

A room that locked from the outside at 12:05 PM sharp.

No signal. No interruption. Just the two of them.