“I would not ask you to change things on a whim or without consideration, for I know that you will undertake to do so only when you are satisfied it is truly best for the kingdom. But on your council, I might be able to prove to you that change could benefit us all. So yes.” I kept hold of his gaze.
“Would you ask that of me? As one of your boons?”
“No,” I said at once. I would not use up so precious a gift mere moments after receiving it, and I did not have to. “Now that you know this is my dear wish, I would ask it of you as your wife. If you feel I have proven myself, then it would be in your own interests to trust me, to consult me as an equal, would it not?”
He looked at me, and for once I let him see the true Kaikeyi. No averted, soft eyes, but as much fierce flint as I could muster.
An eternity passed in nervous silence, and then Dasharath closed his eyes. His lips tugged upward into a smile. “Six months we have been married. Six months. And you reside in your rooms, only attend court when summoned, seem a shy recluse. And here you are, a warrior, a woman who wishes to be made an advisor.”
My cheeks burned hot. I did not think he intended to shame me. And yet, like Yudhajit’s accidental barbs that had marked my childhood, his words stung. “I am sorry. I meant no offense.”
“No, I am sorry. I have done little to ease your transition to Ayodhya, preoccupied as I was with Sambarasura and other matters. I will grant your wish, allow you access to my Mantri Parishad. But in return, you must promise me something.”
I took a deep breath before I spoke. It helped, giving me time to bury the urge to agree immediately no matter the terms. “What would you ask of me?”
“That you actually talk to Kaushalya and Sumitra, and that you properly fulfill your duties as my wife. I am granting you an unconventional request, but you must obey convention too.”
The request was reasonable and, perhaps, a way to finally end my seclusion. A seat on the council would be worthless if I remained in hiding the rest of the time. “Yes, Raja. We have an agreement.”
He took my hand in his again even as he closed his eyes, and his thumb moved in slow circles. I covered his hand with my own, stopping the movement so that he knew he could rest. He did not pull away, and neither did I, content to sit in the comfortable silence until his breaths deepened and he slipped into a healing sleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WE RETURNED TO THE palace one week later, when Dasharath was well enough to travel. There was a huge feast in honor of the victory, and I sat at Dasharath’s right hand. It was a joy to have a palace-cooked meal, and even more of a joy to lie on my bed. I slept for half a day and woke feeling ready to start the work Dasharath had set for me.
I approached Radnyi Sumitra first. I still had the memory of her well-wishes fresh in my mind, and she appeared less intimidating, with her pleasantly rounded cheeks and ever-present smile.
Sumitra responded with enthusiasm when invited to my chambers for an afternoon repast. As we ate the colorful milksweets, Sumitra gossiped about a servant who had allegedly been asked to leave Kaushalya’s service. I nodded along, but my attention was in the Binding Plane, trying out the idea that had struck me the evening Dasharath made me his charioteer. I shaped our bond, doing my best to augment it, and I watched as the thin filament thickened into a robust embroidery thread. But by that point, the string was shaking side to side quite dangerously, so I let go of the Plane entirely.
Sumitra was talking about some sewing project she was working on, and so I decided to take a risk. In a drastic maneuver, I dug out my own haphazard work I had occupied myself with in the carriage to the battlegrounds. Sumitra laughed so hard that she cried, and our bond strengthened tenfold to a firm cable that looked like thick wool, more than I could have done with my magic.
Toward the end of our time, the topic turned to a ceremony that was being planned in a few moons’ time. I listened with half an ear, for a radnyi’s job at such events was to observe and look beautiful, until Sumitra said, “Of course, because it is for the goddess, we will take part in the ritual.”
“What?” I asked, bemused. That had certainly not been the custom in Kekaya. The sages performed all rites, with the occasional assistance of the men.
“It will not be much work, don’t worry.” Sumitra patted my hand, as though my concern was with the difficulty of the task. “We will wash the statue and make the offerings. Lakshmi has blessed this kingdom with prosperity.”
I had not given much thought to the rules of public rituals, for I cared little about trying to please the gods. But now Sumitra’s words struck me differently. Here was yet another place where women were largely pushed aside—even the most devout.