The enemy of the deer is gone. Now, Nandini has to eliminate the unfaithful man, the seller, and the ungrateful son.

The seer returns home. A fortnight later, the fruit has transformed into his wife, him having tasted it with growing devotion. She too enters the golden cage as his loyal shadow.

And the inhabitants of the cage? Let us know them now, one by one.

First of the holy fifteen (for the rabbit is dead)– Nandini, our goddess of the night. She serves the mysterious Devi.

Third comes the seer, and then his wife. Joins them a helper.

A hag. A virgin. A master. A mistress. The deer too, of course.

A rampant bhogi. A fake priest. A court jester.

A chameleon. And the hermaphrodite.

And who among them will emerge victorious?

****

Hrishav was gone one morning before Maya awoke from sleep. Although they shared a bed in the cottage of their Guru, she still found herself unsure of how much their souls were connected. It surprised her when her hand grabbed a piece of crumpled paper beneath the pillow. It was in Hrishav's handwriting: Come after a fortnight. Yours, Hrishav.

Upon inquiring about this to the Aghori, he told she had some lessons still left to learn. Strangely enough, she thought she would miss Hrishav.

"Has he gone back to the palace?" she asked.

"Yes. And you will go there too, now not as an ordinary human but a secret Bhairavi."

Two weeks passed. It was time for her departure. She touched the feet of the Aghori and Argha, sought their blessings, and offered them two garlands she had sewn herself as a token of gratitude and love.

"With my magic, I have made everyone forget you."

Maya knew it; during her initial time in the forest, she was skeptical of the fact, but later on when she had gone to the market asking about a certain Maya, no one seemed to remember her.

"When you return, they will be fooled to think you were there amidst them all this time, and yet know nothing. You will blend in smoothly. Go to the Mukherjee palace with a bag of vegetables, whatever you can buy. They will think you had gone to the market."

"Understood." Maya nodded. "I have a question."

"Speak."

"I can feel why Hrishav didn't marry all this time," she fidgeted with her aanchal, "but, what about Mamoni, I mean Shalini Mukherjee? If I am not wrong, she is older to Hrishav."

The Aghori grinned, stroking his beard. "Yes. Perhaps by two to three years." He heaved a sigh. "Not all women are fond of marriage, especially in a society where it often translates to bondage. And she is practising celibacy. Her sadhana is complete, yet she chose to keep continuing on that path. Her wish completely."

"A princess like her can afford to have that independence," Argha said. "Unlike poor girls who are married off at three."

Before Maya took her leave, the Aghori tied around her forearm a red thread– a protective amulet.

"The Goddess of the Night has an arch nemesis," the Aghori said. "Beware of them. That being is no easy prey, and never an unskilled predator."

****

Rani pulled her in the house when she came back with brinjals and pumpkins. "How long does it take you to buy a few things?"

"The bag is heavy," she complained. "I don't know why they didn't send Ramu or someone else."

"I never knew you were so forgetful." Rani huffed. "He has fever. The weather is bad, sometimes it rains and sometimes it's scorching hot. Be careful and don't dare sneeze near me. I don't want to catch a cold."

"They could have sent Tirtha," she murmured.

Rani raised her brows. "You have guts, asking the prince to go to the market. He won't do such petty dealings. He buys women, not vegetables."

"I guess being a brinjal is a better option nowadays."

They went to the kitchen and began cooking. Everything seemed normal. She tried to subtly know about what went on in the mansion during her absence, and it wasn't trouble to extract information from the old chatterbox. Apparently, Bonolota had hosted a few events in the mansion, entertaining the Rajon and his son with dancing and singing. Shalini despised it all, but had to go along with the drama.

"Last night Bonolota and Rajon drank a lot. I think she is sleeping late," Rani said. "The Rajon went out with his men after breakfast. It looked like something was off."

Maya narrowed her eyes. "Was Hri–" She pursed her lips. "Was Boro Babu also there?"

"Yes. He too accompanied him, even Tirtha. The three men were in sort of a hurry. I saw the guards carry big sticks with them."

Chills ran down Maya's spine. She almost cut her finger on the edge of the peeler. Taking a deep breath, she stared outside the window, the voice of Rani fading in the background. The milk simmered, and despite the screams of Rani, Maya let it spill.

A smack on her head brought her back to reality. "This is no good! What are you thinking?"

Rani wiped the container and swirled the milk. They had to make use of it in some dish, perhaps use the thick cream. "If the Rajon shouts at me saying why the milk is bad, I will blame you."

"I don't feel good."

"Huh? Are you sick too? Don't tell me you are getting shivers."

"Shivers, yes." Maya wrung her hands. Her heart flapped its wings, restless to go seek the brown-eyed prince. Whether she loved him or not, he was her husband now. They were supposed to take care of each other. "Not due to fever. It's different, Rani. I think something horrible is going to happen."

"Don't tell me..." Rani's eyes widened. "Kali, what misfortune awaits us?"

A mellow ray of sun fell over Maya's face. It illuminated her tearful eyes. Beside her, the brinjal lay uncut, the fire burnt without a goal. Her cheeks were wet and salty. She didn't know what to do.

"I hope Boro Babu is safe," she blurted.

Rani smiled. Maya expected to be mocked and ridiculed, but the old woman ran a hand through her hair, caressing her like a mother. "So you do worry for him."

"No!" Maya wished the sun's heat didn't redden her skin further. "I was just–"

"It's alright, Maya." She gave a short, mirthless laugh. "Women are queer creatures. They fall for these men, these monsters who don't know how to kiss a fragile flower. Their callous hands pluck our hair and scratch our flesh. They make us bleed and cry. What to do? We are told to endure."

Her sobs quietened. She peered into the hazy pupils of Rani.

"You know, I wasn't named Rani at birth. My name was Anamika. Nameless one. I was a daughter, that's why. My father used to beat my mother for not giving him a son."

It was story-time. Maya's ears perked up. "And how did you become Rani?"

In that tiny moment, she saw the vigour of youth flash across those deep wrinkles. Rani's face flushed, eyes glowing akin to a candle's flame. "I became the Rani to a man's heart. A man who wasn't my husband. He gave me this name the night I pleased him."

Maya scooted closer. "Was it...the Rajon's father?"

Rani smirked. "Clever girl."

This was a golden chance to dig out what was under wraps and let the past reveal itself. Maya hugged and rubbed her back. The lady leaned on her, resting her head on her shoulders.

"Rituja wasn't born at that time, so she didn't know. I used to cook here. The Rajon's father was getting bored with his wife, and he began his dalliance with me. I got pregnant, Maya." Her voice cracked. "He didn't want me to keep the baby, but I convinced him to let the child live. The Rajon was a young man of twenty-five back then, and his sister Mamoni was around two. It was so embarrassing... I was carrying their half-sibling."

"And Boro Babu?"

Rani clenched her fists. "He was a newborn. The youngest one."

"What about your own husband?"

"He was a drunkard. I earned for him, so he had nothing to say."

"It is a sour fate we women have."

By now, Maya was a flood of tumultuous emotions.

"Hmph!" Rani scoffed. "Mine feels like an adventure. The baby was born. It was a boy, so my master was happy. He only had one son, so a second one delighted him. Perhaps that saved me and that boy. Later on, his wife got pregnant too. She was jealous of me, but it wasn't my fault. Whether I liked it or not, I had to sleep with her husband; it was a different thing that I did have feelings for him. She gave birth to a second daughter, and her husband, of course, was upset. She died due to the trauma and the child was gone after a few months. A year later he followed them to deathbed."

"The Rajon lost so many in such a small span of time."

"Yes. The Rajon, I mean Vijay, tolerated me, and maybe still has some respect for me, because I reared his siblings. I was their mother, not anybody else. I took care of the household like a mother while dressed like a maid."

"And what about your baby boy?"

Rani grew pale like the potato peels discarded on the floor. Her frayed nerves caused bony fingers to shake. Maya firmly grasped them. "Is he alive?"

"Lalon is a good astrologer. He had told both my children will be fortunate and wealthy." Her eyes sparkled. "I was thirty-four when my boy was born, and over a decade later, I gave birth again– to Rituja. It was an unexpected one, and really hard on my body since my menopause was near. I had hoped for another son, but it was a pretty girl. The shock didn't hurt me so much than it did my stupid husband, who drank himself to death. I was elated, though. One less person to carry the burden of."

She didn't answer me. "But what about your son?"

Rani smiled. "He is absolutely fine. Perfect. But I don't want to talk about him. I hope you will have mercy on me."

Maya gulped. The gossipmonger, often heartless Rani also had a tragic past, a dreary one full of notorious secrets. She was a strong woman, rather she was forced to be one. She could realise why Rani must have not stopped Rituja from having intercourse with whoever that man was. She doubted it was Tirtha, but didn't want to comment. She would investigate on her own and collect proof.

"It might seem odd to you, but there's not much of an age gap between me and the Rajon. He is fifty-five, and I am sixty-four. Yet, he has come to address me as a senior, even though I still hold the status of a servant. But he can never banish me from the house. Even Tirtha knows that, so he will threaten Rituja to work hard but never me. He knows his father would not listen anything against me." She twisted her lips. "The Rajon should bring another child. Or Boro Babu should. Because Tirtha in no way can inherit this vast richness. He is not deserving of being the legacy of Mukherjee."

"You were so desperate to make me sleep with him."

"So that you got a son." Rani groaned. "Although, Boro Babu is a better choice. Tirtha would be a dangerous influence on children."

"You sure hate him. I get it. But you don't show."

"Women are mysterious. You yourself are. But the problem is, you are a maze to yourself. See me– I know my brain and heart too well. I am speaking with my soul at present, but most of the time, it's my head dictating the words."

"What about Boro Babu? Do you hate him too?"

"No," she whispered. "He gives me clothes. To me, to Rituja. You saw during the puja, didn't you? He pays me–" She choked. "He pays me well too. Like he will chide Tirtha and give him money to bed women, he will scold me too and give me money to buy medicines. He does not show that. I bet no one can see it."

"He seems like a contradiction. Equally kind and cruel."

"He needs to keep a reputation. He is the one managing the finances and the actual breadwinner. It's for him the Mukherjee are standing."

"I know. You and Bonolota had said so."

Rani jutted her chin. "He should be the true heir, not Tirtha. That scoundrel is–"

Their conversation was abruptly put at a pause when Hrishav hurled inside the kitchen. His clothes were dirty and covered in blood. Outside, Rajon Vijay and Tirtha could be heard arguing loudly.

"Maya," he froze upon seeing the two women cuddled up and cozy, "I needed help."

"Yes, Boro Babu?" She pointed at his attire. "Are you wounded?"

"Not my blood." He rolled his eyes. "I need to bathe. I must be smelling. Anyways, I have a headache. I will go and freshen up. Please come to my room with a balm. My head is going to burst."

"Is everything fine, Boro Babu?" Rani hopped in. "Should I make some kadha for you?"

"Thank you. Yes, please." He ruffled his hair. "Nothing is fine. There's been more human sacrifices. Two this time."

"Two?" Maya and Rani gasped.

"Yes." Hrishav's feet curled inwards. "A double murder."

****

Word count: 2293 words
Total word count: 46,026 words

A very very important chapter. Like it's the game changer chapter.

I thought of mentioning the ages. If you guys read carefully, you would have seen that Shalini never addresses Hrishav as Dada. She calls him Hrishav only. So he is younger.

It's obvious now. Yeah. I mean whose child he is. Maya missed the detail but will catch up soon when she's thinking.