“What is it now?” the woman asked with a sigh.
“No complaints,” I said quickly. “I wanted to tell you that if you receive any further complaints about her, you may direct them to me. Unless you believe their grievances are legitimate, of course.”
The head cook squinted at me through the smoke, as if trying to determine whether I was serious. I held still, waiting, until she relaxed and gave me a small smile. “That is a most generous offer, Radnyi, although I doubt when they hear you have favored her, there will be any further complaints. The girl is smart and skilled. I would not have wanted her to leave.”
I had not meant to go so far as to favor her, but by protecting her I supposed I had indeed done just that. Instead, I gave the woman a nod.
“Riddhi!” she called.
Riddhi emerged from the back, bearing a plate of saffron-hued sweets arranged in a many-petaled flower. “It is ready, I am sorry for the delay—oh, Radnyi Kaikeyi.” She bowed, balancing the plate aloft to preserve the design.
“I do not wish to disturb you,” I said. “Only to tell you that you need not worry any longer.”
Her face flitted through emotions quickly—confusion, shock, then happiness. “Truly?” I nodded. After a moment, she smiled broadly, bouncing slightly on her toes as if unable to contain herself. “Thank you, Radnyi.”
“It was my pleasure,” I said.
“I don’t know how I can ever repay you—” She looked around frantically, then said, “Wait one moment. Please.” She walked quickly to one of the storerooms.
“You have not shown interest in the kitchens before,” the head cook said to me. “Although we appreciate your attentions.”
I knew that she was really asking why. “She did not deserve to suffer.”
The head cook studied me, hands on her hips, a twinkle in her eye. In the Binding Plane, a rose-hued thread unspooled between us. I knew from my time in Kekaya how useful it was to have the goodwill of the kitchen staff, and now with one act of kindness I seemed to have accomplished that here.
In helping another woman, I had in fact helped myself. The head cook’s favor would increase my own power in court.
At that moment, Riddhi emerged again with a smaller dish of the same saffron-hued sweets and offered the plate to me. “I think you will like these,” she said.
As I lifted one, I caught the faint scent of mango. I took a bite, and a delicious burst of flavor danced across my tongue, the rich sweetness of sugar, the tart vibrance of mango, and the creamy undertones of milk. I had eaten such boiled sweets before and enjoyed them, but here there was an extra hint of nuttiness that made them divine. With a noise of pleasure, I put the whole thing in my mouth.
“That was extraordinary, Riddhi, thank you.”
The young woman grinned again, and I quickly took two more before departing, delighted with my success.
I entirely forgot the festival of the full moon, until Asha approached me to show me what she had chosen for me to wear that evening.
The sari was a diaphanous white, for the full moon, heavily embroidered with exquisite silver branches that danced like shadows on water when I moved. The necklace she had laid out held three obsidian stones nestled among intricately woven webs of gold. Her taste was excellent—the delicate necklace and embroidery would suit me well.
Because all other happenings had been canceled for the day, I decided to take a stroll in the gardens and enjoy a moment of solitude. There would be a great feast tonight, to celebrate the end of the fasting period for the sages, all of whom would be in attendance. Their day would be occupied in ceremonies for Shiva, but women were not permitted to attend those, for fear it may anger him and lead to a poor monsoon season. It seemed absurd to me that such a great god would care about such a small thing. Still, we had all heard of Videha, the kingdom to our west, where an entire harvest had been lost when they failed to properly observe the same rites. They were much closer to the mountains, and catastrophic mudslides from the slopes had killed many. It was not worth the risk.
But for the moment, I was content to wander in the breeze and enjoy the beauty of my surroundings. Lost in thought, I rounded the corner of a hedge and promptly collided with what felt like a stone pillar and fell with a thump. Have they added a new statue? I blinked up at the object. After a moment, I realize that it was in fact a very tall man who was staring down at me in concern.
“I am so sorry, Devi. May I assist you?” I took the proffered hand, strangely delicate compared to his size, and he hoisted me to my feet.
“Thank you. I apologize for my clumsiness. I thought myself alone here.” I did not recognize him, but he was finely dressed. Most likely he was a noble visiting for the feast.
“There is no need for an apology—I thought the same. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, Arya. I’m Kaikeyi.” I deliberately omitted my title. Knocking over royalty could be a criminal offense, and I did not want to scare him—though on second glance, he did not look like an easily intimidated man.
In fact… he looked like he might not be fully a man at all.
His deep brown skin seemed to have the faintest glow—or was that the light of the waning sun? His hair was curled so tightly it may have had muscles of its own, styled in a manner unfamiliar to me. And his eyes shone like gemstones, a brilliant deep orange flecked with red. Inhuman eyes. I had seen those eyes once before, deep in a forest near the banks of the Sarasvati River. My heart beat quicker, and I took a small step back without thinking.
But the recognition that flared in his expression was quite human, halting my panicked response. “Radnyi Kaikeyi!” he exclaimed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Ravana, of Lanka.”
This surprised me. I had known Ravana would be our guest for the evening, but I had not expected to find him wandering the gardens. Immediately, I swept into a bow. “Raja. A pleasure to meet you.”
Ravana’s territory existed on an island at the very southern tip of the known world. His kingdom had long been plagued by the disapproval and punishments of the gods, and he was making pilgrimage to the high mountains in order to seek Lord Shiva’s grace. It was a long, fraught journey, and everyone knew he hoped it would bring his people better fortune.
When Dasharath had told me of his coming, I had wondered why such a seemingly devout leader would have the need for such a pilgrimage. But looking at him now, I knew. He had rakshasa blood in his veins.
“I am not sure how pleasant being knocked over was for you,” he said, and I found myself laughing. The disconcerting color of his eyes was softened by the kindness held within them.
I shook my head. “It was my fault. As I said, I should have paid more attention to where I was going.”
“I understand. Sometimes I find myself lost in thought for hours on end.” He sat down on a nearby bench, and drawn in by his easy manner, I sat down next to him.
“Lost in thought about what?” I asked.
He raised his eyebrows as though surprised to be asked. “Flight, for one thing,” he said.
“Flight? Like birds?” I was intrigued.
“Yes. I am trying to find a way to make it possible for us intelligent creatures to take to the sky,” he explained, his eyes taking on a distant look. “If birds, with no language or tools, can fly, then why shouldn’t we?”
“Birds can speak,” I said immediately. “You and I cannot understand them, but that does not mean they don’t communicate.”
He looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. “And how would you know such a thing?”
My cheeks reddened. “I have read of it,” I mumbled. I would not reveal my father’s boon, especially not to a stranger.