Before I could answer, Dasharath stirred. “Kaikeyi? Kaushalya? What happened?” He lifted himself up. “Why am I in this bed?”
Seeing Dasharath, I felt within me the throb of emptiness where our bond should have been. “No.” I stepped away, wiped my face dry, and set my shoulders. “No, he will need someone.”
She nodded. “I am furious with you,” she said at a normal volume, and I knew that too was true, even if she spoke for Dasharath’s benefit.
“Furious?” Dasharath echoed weakly. “Why—oh no, no, no.”
“You fainted. We have sent for a healer.” I kept my tone cold and tried to bring some distance back to the proceedings. My aloofness had all but disappeared as I bore witness to his pain, but now it was time to be unyielding. For Kosala’s sake, and my family’s.
“You’re crying,” he said, gaze searching my face. “Please tell me you have changed your mind. You have realized the error of your ways.”
“I have not changed my mind. Please, though, I beg of you, do not tell the rest of the kingdom why you have arrived at such a decision. If they know it came from me, they may not respect it.” He would not do it, and I had no leverage over him, no bond to rely on—but I asked it nonetheless.
His face was pale as he said, “The whole kingdom will know who is responsible for this crime. The whole kingdom will hate you and hate what you have done to them.”
It hurt me more than I wanted to admit. But in the pain of this moment, of the loss of what I had once shared with Dasharath, I could hardly comprehend what loss was to come next. When I tried to think about it, my mind protested, as though it was too much to even contemplate.
“I told you that I acted in the best interests of the kingdom. Even if you disagree with me, you should not wish this fate upon me. I am your wife.”
Dasharath bared his teeth at me. “You are no wife of mine. I will honor the boons I granted you. But you are already dead to me.”
At this, Kaushalya stepped forward, anger clear on her features. I shook my head at her, but she opened her mouth anyway.
“I do not care,” I said, speaking over whatever she intended to say. I would not let Kaushalya lose everything too. “I will leave you with your real wife.” And I swept out of the room before anyone could say another word.
I sat in my room and cried. Asha and Manthara stood watch over me. My stomach heaved with the force of each breath, and I thought my insides might spill out of me. I waited every moment for my heart to fail. They offered me food, water, but I could not bring myself to accept any part of it. Part of me wished for death.
Sometime after my confrontation with Dasharath—I wasn’t sure how many hours had passed—a messenger came and spoke with Manthara. She relayed to me that Dasharath had called a special meeting of court and requested my presence.
He wanted me there when he denounced me.
Asha gave me a cool cloth to press to my red eyes as she wrapped me in a simple silver sari, although in the low light it appeared gray and dull. She applied color to my face, the red powder quite stark, for my skin was pale and drawn. She fastened a simple gold chain around my neck, placed a kiss on my brow, and then left me alone with Manthara.
“You did the right thing,” Manthara told me. “No matter what is said about you, Kaikeyi, remember that you did the right thing. You are not wicked.”
“Then why do I feel wicked?” I whispered.
“Because those who are good question themselves. Because those who are good always wonder if there was a better way, a way that could have helped more and hurt less. That feeling is why you are good.” She too pressed a kiss to my forehead. “This will be terrible, but you are so strong. You can make it through.”
I leaned into her and wrapped my arms around her waist. “I love you,” I said. “I could not do this without you.”
“You silly girl. I love you too. Now you must go.”
With each step I took toward the throne room, my heart steadied. I was strong, and I was in the right. I took measured paces, fortifying myself in icy reserve, and as such was one of the last to reach the throne room.
Dasharath was there on his throne looking old, older than his years. Kaushalya and Sumitra sat stiffly in their formal seats on his left. On his right, all four of my sons appeared equally confused, which meant that I would get the privilege of watching their reactions in person.
When I took my seat, Dasharath stood, and a hush fell over the court. He spoke without preamble. “As some of you may know, long ago, Radnyi Kaikeyi accompanied me to the field of battle and saved my life. In return, I granted her two boons. Generous, to be sure, but I thought her deserving.”