Kama: Liberation (Vol-I)

Chapter 25: Siblings of Unlike Blood

Please the pretty princess, earn the king's respect.

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Days were all sunshine and sweet, a gala time being spent in the palace. Ishvara swore she could remain here forever. Maybe as a servant girl, or a warrior. If luck was on her side, then as a grand princess.

She sniffed the sunflowers kept on the window sill, bathing in daylight. They were fresh. The pale green curtains swayed with the leafy little wilderness rooted in each vase. From the window one could see the vast royal viridescence of the garden. Each stone there was perfect and square, as if built from perfection.

The yellow walls and divine carvings made her gape in awe. She often found herself standing and just admiring the walls, reading the stories it had to narrate. The laughter of the servants, their gossips and greetings dampened. It was Ishvara and the palace, a rediscovery of what already existed.

The palace stood with glory as if conjured from the bedtime stories of a child. The portrayals of the kings and queens fascinated her the most. There was this story– well, she thought that was what the story was– where the king pushed his beloved, the woman he was courting, into a pond full of lotus. The flowers stuck to her hair and in the next scene, as depicted on the walls, she was furious. Whoever drew the woman perfectly captured the emotions of her face. She was irked, but the king was grinning. Then, she pulled him into the waters along with her, or maybe he himself jumped, because the next picture showed them embracing in the pond, a glowing light surrounding them, like a halo.

"I wish these fairytales were true," Ishvara mused with a longing in her gaze. "I wish my past was like this. I don't remember anything, so maybe I can wish things were nice?"

At least some things ought to be nice.

Ishvara walked through the lit passages, tracing her hands over the crinkle painted walls, splashes of brown and golden giving it an ancient effect. The pillars stood tall and strong, just like the Rajan. She reached the women's quarters– Abode of Grace. Instead of going to the Hall of Intellect, she decided to go leftwards, deeper into the most important part of the palace. This region was spectacularly well-illuminated with candles and made soothing with incense and sage. She could smell rosemary and lilies. And then, she stood in front of a room, bolted heavily and protected from human interference. Garlands hung outside the room.

She walked up to the door and touched it, her hand gliding down. It made her feel aloof. Why was this room situated far away, into the innermost part of the Abode of Grace? Was this so special that only a few could come here?

If so, who used to live here?

Probably someone very important. That was why this place was still kept neat and clean. Ishvara smiled, twirling the garland in her grip. The flowers– blood red, dazzling yellow, infinite blue... A myriad of colours and so many smells...

She inadvertently closed her eyes. Her hands were being dyed red. Girls flocked around her, painting her palms and feet. She flipped her hair and stared at the mirror. Her reflection was oozing confidence. "Look at the most gorgeous woman of this world," she boasted arrogantly. Her cheeks were not as full as now. She had a hawk-like gaze that could pierce the hearts of common men.

"The Rajan is after you, my princess. What are you going to do?"

She lifted up her skirts, flaunting her legs and with brisk steps went and sat near the glaring sunshine to dry her feet. "What should I do?" she asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible. "You tell me."

The servant girls exchanged glances. "Why, he snatched the throne of your father which rightfully belonged to you. You were supposed to be the eternal favourite. Not some street urchin."