“That’s right. Now watch and let me know if you have any comments.”
I glanced at Arjun, but he was at as much of a loss as I was. What did he expect from me? Comments about what? His performance? The writing? The play began, but as the night progressed, nothing came to mind. Midway through the performance, when Adesh was no longer needed on stage, he sat down next to me. He smelled heavily of perfume and something else. Wine?
“Have you heard anything about a playwright named Vishnudas Bhave?” he whispered.
Because I didn’t know whether the rani would want me to lie, I told him the truth. “Yes.”
“Is he really coming to Jhansi?”
“There’s talk that the raja is inviting him—”
“It’s absolutely unnecessary!” Adesh exclaimed. The raja looked down at us from the stage, and we both smiled quickly, so he wouldn’t know we were talking about him. Immediately, Adesh lowered his voice. “Does the rani know how much a playwright like him will cost?”
“I can’t say—”
“Well, there’s no reason for it! I’m a playwright, but the raja won’t even take a look at my plays.”
This surprised me. I had thought Adesh was the raja’s favorite. I was about to respond when Kahini rose from her cushion and came over to join us.
“And what are the two of you whispering about?”
“How beautiful your cousin looks tonight,” Adesh said. “I can’t think there’s ever been a lovelier Ratnavali.”
Kahini looked from Adesh to me, then back again. “I can keep a secret—”
“Honestly,” I said, “we weren’t—”
“I didn’t ask you.”
“What’s happening here?” the raja demanded. He strode to the edge of the stage and put his hands on his hips, so that he looked exactly like a pouting woman in his long wig and sari.
“Sita here was discussing your performance with Adesh,” Kahini said. “I was just asking her to share her comments with the rest of us.”
I glanced at Arjun, hoping he might devise some way of saving me, but he remained silent.
“Well, what is it, Sita?”
I felt my breath catch in my throat. “I . . . it’s nothing.”
“You have nothing to say? That’s disappointing. I brought you here because the rani said you were clever.”
“Perhaps it’s past her bedtime,” Kahini said.
Several of the actors laughed.
“If you’re tired and have nothing of value to add, you had might as well go. Next time, come rested.”
When the raja resumed acting, I turned to Arjun. “You might have helped me.”
“How? You were whispering with Adesh. Did you think the raja wasn’t going to notice?”
Tears of shame burned in my eyes, but I willed them not to fall. It was unlikely the raja would call for me again after this. I had failed the rani.
W hen I returned that night, Jhalkari was still awake. She waited until I had changed into my kurta and slipped beneath my covers before she whispered, “It was the rani who wanted you to go, wasn’t it?”
I didn’t lie to Jhalkari. “Yes.”
“Is she afraid of what the raja is spending?”
I pushed myself up on one elbow. “How did you—”
“It’s an easy guess. I’ll bet the British rub their hands together every time he throws a party for his actors or hires one from Sangli or Bombay.”
“She wanted me to find out how much he’s spending, but I can’t see how that will change anything. He’s the raja—”
“And he listens to her. Why do you think she presides over the Durbar Hall? He treats her like a mother. And no son wants to disappoint his mother.”
“But she’s fifteen years younger than him.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’m sure you’ve heard people say she’s old beyond her years. Our rani was born to rule.”
I wondered if, in the history of India, there had ever been such a raja as ours. “He was performing another woman’s role tonight.”
In the flickering light, I saw Jhalkari shrug. The other Durgavasi may have accepted that this was how things were in Jhansi, but I still had trouble understanding it. From the moment I’d left the baradari to the moment that the rani’s guards had brought me back to the Panch Mahal, I couldn’t stop thinking about the raja in his long, black wig, as convincing as any woman who might have been playing his role. I’m sure I should have let the matter go, but I couldn’t stop wondering what might have happened if the rani hadn’t gone to her husband’s chamber dressed as a man.
“I just don’t understand it,” I whispered. “How can a raja not want any children?”
Jhalkari frowned. Now that the rani had lost the weight of her pregnancy, they once again looked like sisters, and it felt a little strange talking about the rani with someone who looked so similar to her. “Who said he doesn’t want any children?”
“Well, if he has no desire to visit the rani’s chamber—”
“Some men simply have no interest in women.”