Kaikeyi

At this Dasharath’s expression relaxed. “Well, that is of course his job, to explain such values. Even you agree that impropriety is a danger. So long as he did not insult you.”

I tried again, sending the smallest of nudges in the Binding Plane. “I am sure there is another who can teach Rama and the others just as well.”

Dasharath gave a small laugh. “Kaikeyi, we cannot dismiss a venerable man for such a small matter.”

There was only warmth in Dasharath’s voice and so I forced myself to accept his rebuke. After all, I too was imperfect—I still could not quite forgive myself for slapping Rama, no matter what everyone else thought.

Besides, I had other matters to discuss with Dasharath. “I was talking with Kaushalya afterward, and she mentioned something about Rama taking the throne. She seemed to believe that he would be your heir.”

“Did she?” Dasharath had busied himself with unwinding my elaborate bun as I spoke, and I could tell that he was not really paying attention to my words.

I twisted slightly to face him. “I thought, perhaps, you might have told them about our arrangement already. The promise you made to me and to my father before we were wed.”

Understanding dawned on his face. “No, no I have not. But rest assured, Kaikeyi, our promise still stands. Bharata is yuvraja of Kosala.” Tension bled from my shoulders as he called Bharata the crown prince, and I fully relaxed against him. He brushed some hair from my face. “Would you like for me to tell them now? I did not wish to make things strange between all of you.”

I thought about how much I valued their friendship, Kaushalya’s steadiness and Sumitra’s optimism. I did not believe this revelation would damage our relationship, but I could not take the risk. If they liked me less, or even began to dislike me… They were the sisters I hadn’t realized I needed—my family. I could not lose them.

“It is all right,” I murmured. “I would not want to cause them any pain. When they are older, and Bharata can prove himself…”

Dasharath smiled and embraced me again. “You may be the strictest of my radnyis, but you are still too kind,” he murmured. “The way you hold your court, always speaking for the lowest of our citizens, and even now thinking of Kaushalya’s and Sumitra’s happiness. You have a bleeding heart.”

“Do you mind it?” I asked him, genuinely curious.

“No.” He lifted me onto his bed. “It’s an attractive quality, in a woman.”

“And in a man,” I said.

“I should hope so,” he replied. “Or else there is really no point in how much of my treasury I’ve set aside for my radnyis’ projects, is there?”

I laughed at that, then quieted as he began removing my blouse. “It helps your people, that should be reason enough. Not seduction.”

“Yes, yes,” he grumbled, and when I looked to the Plane for sincerity, our thick, gold-plated bond stayed still and clear.





CHAPTER NINETEEN





ON A SEEMINGLY RANDOM session of the Women’s Council, just after midday break as the sun began its slow descent, Sumitra leaned in and whispered to me, “Is that the royal procession?”

Sure enough, over the amassed crowd, I spied several guards on horseback, and then the top of the royal palanquin only used when Dasharath wished to make an entrance.

“It is. But why is he here?” I whispered back.

“If anyone knows, it would be you,” Sumitra said, no trace of malice in her voice.

I gave my head a small shake and tried to pay attention to the woman speaking to Kaushalya while keeping one eye on my husband as he drew closer. Kaushalya’s patient questioning uncovered that the young mother was a widow with a mind for sums, and so we provided her a reference for the treasury. After several tearful expressions of gratitude, the woman turned around to leave, then froze, nearly stumbling on the edge of the steps.

The rest of the crowd followed her gaze. Like tall grasses under a strong wind, they all sank into low bows.

“So much for subtlety,” I muttered. Sumitra laughed, but Kaushalya did not say anything at all.

“Did he tell you about this?” I asked her. “You seem unsurprised.”

Kaushalya only smiled enigmatically. “It will all be clear in a moment.” I found the cord between us but decided at the last minute not to use it. She would have cautioned me if I needed more preparation.

Dasharath dismounted and came toward us. He was dressed in an ornate kurta with glinting gold embroidery, and his ceremonial khanda was strapped to his waist. He reached the steps to the dais where we sat, then ascended to stand in the place of our usual petitioners. “I have a matter for the Women’s Council,” he declared, his voice echoing over the hush.

Sumitra and I blinked in bewilderment. It was Kaushalya who spoke. “State your case, Raja.”

“I come seeking advice.”

“Tell us of the matter, and perhaps we may be able to help you.”

Dasharath knelt, one knee on the ground, and looked up at us. “I am searching for a way to reward a member of my Mantri Parishad.”

“What have they done to earn such a reward?” Kaushalya asked immediately, and I realized: They had rehearsed this little performance. But why?

“This person has made themselves an asset to the kingdom of Kosala. I trust their advice above that of almost anybody else. They are kind, hardworking, and beloved by all of Ayodhya.”

“And you need help in determining a reward?” Kaushalya asked. “Land and jewels, perhaps.”

Dasharath shook his head. “They have no need of that.”

“Fine clothes or servants?” Kaushalya suggested.

“They have no need of that.”

Kaushalya smiled. “Are they your most trusted minister?”

“They are not a minister.” A minister was the highest position one could obtain—either a member of Dasharath’s inner council or a governor of a piece of Dasharath’s vast territory. They had the ears of the raja, their counsel trusted above all. It was certainly strange for Dasharath to so revere someone who did not already hold such a title.

“Then make them a minister,” Kaushalya said simply. “That is an excellent reward.”

Dasharath smiled at me again. “I would have to create a new position for them.”

“I see.” Kaushalya paused, seeming to ponder for a moment. “If they are your most trusted councillor, then make them saciva.” Saciva was an old title, out of use in most kingdoms. It referred to a king’s chief advisor. They used to be members of every raja’s inner council, perhaps the most powerful member, but over the years too many of them had attempted coups or other forms of dissent, and so the position had fallen out of favor.

“You have excellent judgment, Radnyi,” Dasharath said, bowing his head and rising to his feet. He turned to face the crowd, now grown several times larger as word had spread of the king’s arrival. “Today I create a new minister for my council—Saciva Kaikeyi!”

It was lucky that I was seated, for even as it was, I almost fell over. Lucky too that he stood between me and the citizens of Ayodhya, so most could not see the dumb expression on my face. He spoke words I knew, and yet their meaning was incomprehensible.

“Get up,” Kaushalya hissed at me. “Go stand beside him.”

“What?” I asked stupidly.

“Kaikeyi, he’s naming you saciva!” she said. “Get up!”

“But… I’m a woman,” I said.

Kaushalya rose from her chair, took my hand, and pulled me to my feet. “And you are always the one claiming that women can provide value to their kingdoms beyond bearing children, are you not?” She smiled, nudging me, and I stumbled forward a few steps to stand by Dasharath. The crowd cheered as Dasharath presented me to them.

“Congratulations, my saciva.” His voice was too soft for anyone else to hear.

“I don’t understand,” I said, equally softly.

He raised my hand and pressed a kiss to it. “You have already been my saciva for a long time. And after what you told me about the boys, I had to make sure they understood that their mother—all of their mothers—are strong and valuable women.”

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