“But is this only in Jhansi?”
Jhalkari popped herself up on one elbow, and behind her, Moti stirred in her sleep, dreaming, probably of food. “Sita, don’t tell me you think this is unique to Jhansi. This has existed since the beginning of time. The raja was born this way, the same way you were born with an interest in men. And one man, in particular.”
I sat up a little.
“You should be careful,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because the other Durgavasi are talking.”
“There’s nothing indecent about exchanging books!”
“It starts with books. But they know he requested to escort you tonight.”
“How—”
“Kashi was with the rani when he volunteered. And it starts with this. Then suddenly he’s escorting you to the shops, and next he’s trying to touch your hand.”
I could feel my face becoming hot. “He would never try that!”
“He’s a man.”
“He’s the captain of the rani’s guards.”
“And that makes him any less of a man? I should think it makes him much more of one. Be careful of your reputation, Sita. He’s not looking to marry a Durgavasi.”
“How do you know?” Immediately, I felt embarrassed that my daydreams were so transparent.
“Because he was married once before and his wife died in childbirth with the child.” Jhalkari looked very sad for me. “He obviously wanted a family, Sita, and I doubt that anything has changed.”
When we left the Panch Mahal the next morning, Arjun was sitting on the ledge of the fountain, dressed in his white vest and gold churidars. Jhalkari raised her brows at me.
“There he is. Probably looking for you,” she remarked.
But he rose as soon as he saw Sundari, and the two of them began talking in hushed tones. I heard Sundari exclaim loudly, “No!” Then the pair of them hurried into the queen’s room and disappeared down the hall to the rani’s chamber.
“What was that about?” Kashi said.
I wanted to be concerned. The fleeting thought even crossed my mind that perhaps the rani was ill, but I dismissed it. After all, the rani could survive anything. She was like Father’s bamboo, bending, but never breaking. Hadn’t she found a way to conceive a child when the rani before her had failed? And didn’t she rule over Jhansi even while the British were busy hoping for rebellion? But even if I had wanted to focus my thoughts on her, I honestly couldn’t have. At that moment, I was preoccupied with Arjun. How long ago had he been married? What had his wife been like? Was it a son or a daughter who had died?
Then Kahini entered the queen’s room, and her face was pale. “I think something has happened to the rajkumar,” she said.
Chapter Sixteen
You can probably imagine the kind of panic that ensued in the Panch Mahal when word spread that Damodar was suddenly taken ill. At first, it was only that he couldn’t keep anything in his tiny stomach. Then, he began having difficulty breathing. The rani tied a small black string around his wrist to keep away the evil eye, but still he was sick. The curious thing was, his troubles came and went. The doctors gave him an Ayurvedic tea made from raw honey and thyme. He got better, and would sleep and eat contentedly, then the next day he would seem paralyzed again. His feet would stop moving and the stillness would travel slowly up to his arms. Physician after physician was called and all sorts of herbs and teas were tried, but the symptoms persisted. Soon, everyone was banished from the rani’s chamber except family.
Weeks passed like this and the strain was felt by everyone. We all waited and prayed; then in April, on Rama Navami, the start of our festival celebrating the birth of Lord Rama, Kahini returned from the queen’s chamber and immediately we knew.
I thought Kashi would break she cried so hard.
For myself, I felt as if I’d swallowed stones.
On the day of the rajkumar’s funeral, his small body was borne on a litter, and taken to the shores of the lake next to the Mahalakshmi Temple. Fiery orange trees we call Flames of the Forest rose to meet the blue sky and swayed in the wind as a priest worked to build the funeral pyre. When he was finished, he set the pyre alight, and I thought I would choke on my grief.
Hundreds, possibly thousands of people, stood on the banks of the lake while the rani leaned on Sundari for support. Without her, she would have collapsed under the weight of her sadness. As for the raja, he sank to his knees before the funeral pyre and wept into his hands. He remained like this for as long as it took for the flames to devour his son’s tiny body.
No one should have to endure such misery.