Because try as I might, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way the raja had touched Adesh’s arm, and how Adesh had been happy to let him. There are some men for whom female company is not enough, so they seek out close friendships with men who have similar interests and tastes. This was what the raja was doing.
But even after I had puzzled out most of what Kahini had been referring to, instead of making me feel better, it only made me feel lonely. I was coming to know more about the royal family than I did about my own. Anu wrote letters back every week, but it wasn’t enough. I had no idea whether she was happy or sad, since it was impossible to write the truth while Grandmother was in the house. It had been more than a month since I had last seen her, and Jhalkari said there wouldn’t be an opportunity to see our families until we celebrated Durga Puja in October.
That was three months from now.
I thought of everything that had changed in just a month, and tried to imagine what would be different in three. I would have more money by then, possibly enough for Father to begin the search for a husband for Anu. And if I was careful, I might even be able to bring home a few sweets and some clothing. But what if life in Barwa Sagar had changed? What if Anu was different? I thought of all the times she had wanted to be in the courtyard with me while I trained, and how I’d told her to watch from the window. Why hadn’t I simply risked Grandmother’s anger and let her stay?
I opened the chest near my bed and searched for the latest letter Anu had sent me. Then I reread it, smiling over each of her words.
Sita, you won’t believe what’s happened. Avani convinced Father to adopt the little kitten that’s been mewling outside my window at night. She told him how badly I wanted to keep it, and even though Grandmother said she’d rather adopt the demon Ravana, Avani convinced him, because the next day I woke up and he was sitting in my bedroom. A real kitten! With orange fur and a completely white nose. Avani thinks I should name him Mooli, like my wooden cat, but I think he looks more like a lion, so I’m going to name him Sher. Then we’ll both have a Sher to take care of.
I grinned, imagining her joy and the tender way she’d take care of her little pet. But then I wondered who I would be in three months and whether Anu would even be able to recognize me.
Chapter Eleven
As the rani’s belly grew larger and we made fewer trips outside the Panch Mahal, I had more time to socialize with the other Durgavasi. I spent as little time as possible with Kahini and Rajasi. And since Heera and Priyala were nearly ten years older than I was, I didn’t have much in common with them. But Moti became a good friend, and Kashi and Mandar, who were always with each other, were entertaining as well. In fact, just to see Kashi and Mandar together could make me laugh, since Kashi was unbelievably petite, and Mandar could not have been larger unless she’d been born a man.
Their personalities were extremely different as well. All Kashi ever talked about were children, while the only thing Mandar appeared interested in was training. I have no idea how they came to be such close friends, but to see them, you would have thought they had known each other all of their lives.
“Be honest,” Kashi said to me one day while the five of us were sitting in the courtyard—myself, Jhalkari, Moti, Kashi, and Mandar. “If you could marry and have children tomorrow, would you do it?”
I looked up at the clouds, which were threatening to rain at any minute, and shrugged. “I don’t think about it,” I said.
“But if you had to think about it,” Kashi pressed. “Would you give up your freedom as a Durgavasi to marry?”
“Not me,” Mandar said, and Kashi shushed her.
“I already know what you would do. Moti, what would you do?”
Moti put down the laddu that was about to make its way into her mouth. “Me?”
“Yes, if you can stop eating for long enough to answer.”
She giggled. “I would marry, and spend all of my time in the kitchen.”
Kashi rolled her eyes playfully. “I guess we don’t have to ask Jhalkari.”
“Yes, she’s the only lucky one,” Moti said.
But Kashi hesitated. “Still . . . no children.”
The five of us settled into an uneasy silence.
“What if you could give up your life in the Durgavas?” Kashi asked.
“I’m like Sita,” Jhalkari told her. “I never think about it.”
“On purpose?”
“Of course on purpose,” Jhalkari told her. “What’s the point?”
Mandar nodded. “We’re all allowed to go home to see our families. That’s more than many of the raja’s soldiers get.”
“Only ten days now,” Kashi said. “What are you going to do when you get home?”
“Eat my fill of kheer,” Moti said.
“I want to see my niece,” Kashi replied. “She’ll be two years old the day I visit.”
I pictured a miniature version of Kashi, with soft brown curls and big eyes.
“And what are you going to do?” Mandar asked me.
I pictured my house in Barwa Sagar and my eyes instantly welled with tears. “Wake up next to my sister,” I said, “and hear about everything I’ve missed these four months. See Father’s new carvings.”