“Yes,” I whispered, embarrassment making me curt. She lifted a single eyebrow, and I added, “You honor me with your presence. Won’t you come inside?”
She stepped into the main room, the scent of sandalwood sweeping in with her, and glanced around.
Kaushalya was Dasharath’s first radnyi. She stood a head above me, but her graceful neck and perfect posture made her seem even taller. The drape of her rich orange sari suggested soft, womanly curves, at odds with her sharp bun and cutting cheekbones. Garnets glinted at her throat, setting off her luminous skin. The effect was so lovely that I wished to hide myself behind a curtain to avoid any attempt at comparison between us.
“It’s quite bare,” she said.
“No different than my rooms back home,” I said immediately. Before I could give offense, I hastily added, “But these are much bigger.”
Kaushalya turned to look at me, brow furrowed. Somehow even that was elegant. “This is your home now.” She sounded kind, but I sensed an undercurrent of disapproval. I bit my tongue, annoyed that somehow every word I had said so far had come out completely wrong. “Do you need assistance?”
Perhaps her offer was genuine, but in that moment, it seemed like a challenge. She believed me a simpleton, a bumbling fool. “No, I am perfectly fine on my own.” I straightened my shoulders and met her eyes.
“I see,” she said. She glanced me up and down, then gave a little half shrug, casting me back into my girlhood and all of my early interactions with the Kekayan court. My cheeks burned. “I suppose you have no need of me, then.” She turned neatly on her heel and departed, leaving me bewildered at the exchange. I entered the Binding Plane and found only a slim wisp of black between us. I grasped it, hoping to leave her with the impression that this conversation had not been a complete disaster, but even the slight brush of my mind against the cord caused it to tremble, and so I withdrew.
I had never been in this position before, where my bonds were so tremulous that I could not even attempt my usual methods of influencing people. I felt small, useless, as though I was twelve years old and without my mother for the first time, unable to comprehend the palace without her.
I soon discovered the same was true for Radnyi Sumitra, who invited me to take my afternoon refreshment in her rooms. I assumed this would be much the same as the gatherings I had attended in Kekaya, with several noblewomen and much gossip. Instead, it was just Sumitra and I perched on delicate chairs, her watching me as I tried not to marvel at her rooms. They were laid out in a similar fashion to mine, but bursting with colorful ornaments, beautifully painted clay lamps, and divans adorned with emerald-colored cushions, all giving the place a full and joyful feeling.
“How have you been settling in?” she asked me. Unlike Kaushalya, Sumitra smelled of rosewater, and her clothing was always in light, pastel shades—today she wore blush. She was a much less intimidating figure, but her easy cheer still set me off-balance.
I gave her a small smile. “Well, and you?”
“I am glad to have you here,” she said. She was only a few years older than I was but seemed to know so much more. “Do you need anything? I know all of this can be overwhelming at first. Especially for one as young as you.”
I had been with her for all of three minutes and already it felt like she was poking fun at me. Had Kaushalya told her about our first meeting? Did she too think I was some naive yuvradnyi? “I assure you, I am fine.”
“I am happy to introduce you to people, if you would like,” she pressed on.
It would have been so nice to have someone guide me, to tell me who and what I needed to know. And yet, would she not think me weak for admitting so? “Perhaps,” I said, hoping not to seem too eager. I was desperate for her to think of me as independent.
But instead, Sumitra’s brow furrowed briefly before her expression smoothed over. “At your convenience, then.” Her voice had taken on a distance. In the Binding Plane, our silver bond was as wispy as cotton.
It was no better with the other courtiers. I wondered if Kaushalya had spread rumors about me, or if the same things that had made me so off-putting to her were apparent to the rest of the court. I could barely touch any of my new Ayodhyan connections with my mind for fear of accidentally snapping them—they could not be of any real use to me. After a few awkward failed attempts at conversation with even lower nobility, I resigned myself to loneliness. Everyone remained polite, of course, greeting me at court or if they passed me in the corridors, but they did not seek me out or try to gain my favor. Word spread, I am sure, of the strangeness of Dasharath’s new radnyi.