As I had with Dasharath, I decided to answer her honestly. “I would like to rest. It is a hot day, and I have been wrapped in these stifling layers of silk for hours. You are the one who came to my room. I think the question is: What is it that you want?”
Kaushalya smirked. “I wanted to speak to you. I wish to know your plans, to know why you have suddenly decided to act the part of a radnyi. And I want to know what you hope to gain from Sumitra. She is a sweet woman, kind, unassuming. I won’t have you using her for your own ends.”
“You—” I spluttered. “You—you should speak to your husband.”
“What does our raja have to do with this?” Kaushalya asked.
“He requested I take up my duties with the court. No—as a matter of fact, he ordered me to take up my duties with the court.” The words poured out of me in indignation. “He brought it to my attention that I am a radnyi and should act like one. You are correct, I have neglected my responsibilities for months. I have been remiss, uncertain in this new environment. And yet you too have neglected your duties. I did not ask for this marriage. Whatever resentment you have because of it should not fall on my shoulders. I am eighteen years old; you are nine and twenty. You are Dasharath’s first wife. You should have helped me.”
By the end of this speech, I was breathing heavily and had advanced several steps, forcing Kaushalya back. But improbably, in the face of this onslaught, Kaushalya laughed.
“Why are you laughing?” I demanded, unsure whether to be mortified or livid.
“Of course this was Dasharath’s idea,” Kaushalya gasped out. Her lovely features had transformed with the laughter, smoothing her furrowed brow and opening up her expression so that it appeared nearly inviting. “I should not be surprised. And you are quite young. It did not occur to me. I married Dasharath at your age, but he was younger then, still yuvraja. And I had no other wives to contend with.”
I could tell this was the closest I would get to an apology. “Sumitra and I walk in the gardens almost every morning,” Kaushalya continued. “From now on, you may join us. But do not be late.” And she swept past me and out of the room, leaving me gaping.
My tirade had pushed me out of the Plane, and I forced myself back into it. Our bond had thickened in a matter of minutes, vibrant and polished as the jet-black rocks on the banks of the Sarasvati River. Had my anger somehow endeared me to her? I prodded it with my mind, and it rippled lightly, cool water flowing over a stone.
I thought over the conversation, hardly able to understand what had happened. Why had Kaushalya’s suspicions been so easily allayed? Had her defense of Sumitra been genuine?
I removed my other earring and my silk shawl and lay on top of my covers, the questions circling about in my mind.
A knock on the door startled me awake. Drowsily, I wondered if Kaushalya had come back to further interrogate me. But when I opened the door, I found Asha, fidgeting in the hallway.
“Radnyi!” Asha said, brightening. “Radnyi Kaushalya sent me to you. She thought you might appreciate having another lady-in-waiting.”
My mind immediately provided every possible negative interpretation. Asha might be a spy, beholden to report back to Kaushalya. Or Kaushalya might have used this as an opportunity to be rid of Asha for some imagined fault.
As if sensing my hesitance, Asha added, “She wanted me to tell you this is a gift, and that if you do not want my service, she would gladly have me back. She said that everything is shared between sisters.”
Between sisters. I could not push aside the warmth that radiated through me at her words. “She said that?” I asked, unable to believe it.
“Yes, my lady.”
I smiled even as my body sagged in relief. My prospects in Ayodhya were rapidly brightening. “Please, come inside.”
The next morning, I stood at the entrance to the gardens at sunrise. I filled my lungs with the crisp morning air, delighting in the slight chill that reminded me of home.
When would Sumitra and Kaushalya come down? I had not asked what time they usually met.
As the minutes went by, I began to wonder again whether this had been a ruse on Kaushalya’s part to humiliate me, to prove my powerlessness. The confidence I’d felt upon finding Asha at my door yesterday quickly dissipated.
I checked the Binding Plane several times as I waited, for once glad that I had so few true bonds with people here. It made my search for Kaushalya’s easy. Our thread remained the same, black and shining. I picked out my bonds with Dasharath, with Manthara and Asha, grounding me in Ayodhya from all directions. I did not often go into the Binding Plane without a particular person nearby to focus on, so I spent some time making a game of determining who the thinner tangle of threads might represent.