Has it ever occurred to you that what you call your home may never protected you? Perhaps you haven't found your home yet. Your Sukhdham waits for you beyond the cliff you are scared to jump from.

****

"Ra...Rama?"

Sita stood with her back against the walls. Moments ago, she was being lectured by Karuna, but now the motherly maid refused to look into her eyes.

"Yes. Rama," Sita repeated. "I saw our names carved on the tree barks."

"There are many Rama and Sita in the world."

"Could be." Sita heaved a sigh. "But tell me, Karuna, a woman in my situation— wouldn't she want to question this extraordinary coincidence?"

She weighed the words on her tongue. It burnt her chest to keep the story about meeting a man, a stranger, a secret from Karuna, but she had to. Otherwise, they wouldn't ever let her escape the palace.

Yes, Sita wished to go to the forest once again. Maybe there wasn't anything to find on the cliff. No, not yet. But there were discoveries to be made in the forest.

Sita followed Karuna around the room as the maid folded her sarees and dusted off her jewels. She still didn't get an answer.

"It's eating me up," Sita whispered, a deluge of tears suddenly barging through her patience. Her voice was choked. "You...you know everything but don't share."

"You have got a new life, Sita. We want to protect you."

"Which means, there were things in the past trying to kill me?"

"They are no more." Karuna's fingers paused in between the pleats of a veil. "And you need no new danger."

With the task at hand done, Karuna left Sita to solitude. The princess wondered if there was no meeting hosted this morning. Usually, she is summoned to every discussion even if just to sit as a silent doll.

There was something very peculiar about this palace. Every corner was spotless, bright, and every object shining so clean Sita could see her reflection in them. The curtains were as soft as a peacock's plumes. She could pass all her years admiring this palace.

Yet, what was it? A golden cage?

It allowed her only the glimpse of glory, of a perfection so unreal it could never be her. Even the mirror ensured her sunken eyes appeared to be plucked out of a painter's portrait of his beloved muse. But this wasn't her.

There was a reason why she went down the cliff. There was a reason why he was calling her.

There was a reason why Rama and Sita were written together.

"I don't know who you are." Sita stared at her palms. All her lines were faint and smudged. "But you seem to be the only person willing to tell me something. Something true. Something hurtful yet true—"

Her rumination was struck by the unwelcoming creaking of the doors. It wasn't Karuna, of course— she was a delicate and graceful maid. This one was younger and clumsier. No manners at all. "You are asked to come to the Raja's chambers immediately."

"Is he alright?"

"Yes." The maid spoke as if she were addressing no royalty. Her hand on her waist, she blew a lock from her face. "There's a guest who wants to see you."

Sita gulped. "Are you always so impolite?"

"I find no reason to pretend in front of you. You are no one. You should be grateful for it."

Surprise after surprise. Here was one claiming her to be blissfully commonplace. Maybe it would have been better for her to be no one. To be no one...

"You have been summoned, my princess," the girl repeated. "Karuna is attending to the guest. He is an important man. So she asks you to dress on your own. But do you need my help?"

"Who is this guest?"

"Some high-born noble. The older maids are all hush-hush about who he is. As if his name is an omen."

Sita scoffed. "Maybe like me then," she told herself. "No, thank you. I will manage."

The girl shrugged and went on her way. Sita envied this sort of freedom, so reckless and spirited. Like Kaa. Like the breeze. Like the arrow that almost killed her.

Almost.

****

Sita sat behind an opaque partition. It was impossible to make out who was who, except by the voices. Until now, it was her father and the ministers speaking. The guest, whom she assumed to be sitting on a velvety cushioned throne— in contrast to her father and the other nobles, all standing— didn't utter a word. Did he breathe?

She craned her neck. There was not one way to see who this noble was. Hopefully, he wouldn't ask her about herself, because that would make her appear so dumb.

"Who is he?" she asked an older maid. "I can't see him. Why is he here?"

"He is the Maharaja. Of us all."

Sita gasped. "You mean...the Maharaja of Aryavarta?"

"Yes."

"But if he asks me anything—"

"Don't worry, my princess. He knows about your condition. He won't poke you. But I can't guarantee— he may do it for entertainment. He is a bit diabolical when it comes to amusement."

Sita's brows furrowed. A shadow flickered on the red barrier. Light seeped through it, making it diaphanous for a flickering second. She noticed glinting metal. This Maharaja came dressed as if he were to war.

"I hear he went hunting?" It was the naive servant from earlier. "Why does he wear a helmet here? Does he have some scar on his face?"

Sita snapped her head. "He went hunting?" The other maids gestured to her to lower her voice. Sita cleared her throat and turned to a colder pitch. "I presume he comes to hunt in the forest at the outskirts of Videha?"

"Yes." The girl nodded. Despite the glares from the other servants, she went on spilling the secrets. "I find this man dubious. He didn't plan to come here— we were suddenly informed about his arrival and then there was chaos. Untamed chaos! Bring this, bring that, and I am not used to being ordered around like that."

"Were your parents not serving royalty?"

"Oh, never. We don't do it. It's my first time being a servant."

"Crazy girl," Karuna came out of the blue and chided. "You will be thrown out if you don't keep your mouth shut. Learn the etiquette of the palace."

"You don't know me witch."

Sita's jaws hung open. A thought flashed in her mind— was this girl really a servant or...a spy?

Karuna stared daggers at the petitie maiden. "I'll catch up with you later. Maybe sew your lips with a needle." She turned to Sita. "My princess, your father asks for you to show yourself. Please, follow me."

Sita got up and followed like a shadow. For once, the roles were reversed. Sita found comfort in the silence, until she was exposed to the cowering bows of the nobles. The Maharaja's men, standing tall with spears, splayed themselves on the ground. Raja Ruru didn't display any shock. They didn't show so much respect to him, but they did to her.

"Get up," the Maharaja said. "It seems the princess is overwhelmed. Raja Ruru's men might not be this generous with their affection and loyalty."

Raja Ruru stepped forward. "Pardon me, but we don't want to make her feel too distant. We want her to feel at...home."

The Maharaja tilted his head. The helmet loosened a little.

"You know everything," Raja Ruru said. His timid gaze roved over the armoured beast. He joined his hands in reverence. "You may speak to her."

"I already have."

Raja Ruru's eyes widened.

The Maharaja took down his helmet. Sita felt the ground beneath her shake. A momentary swirl in her vision put her senses at stake. She held onto the arms of a soldier and balanced herself. Here he was, the man from the forest.

"So you are the Maharaja of Aryavarta."

Now at a hand's distance from her, she could feel his strength disarm the men around. He made the ambience feel so unsettling. He stood and took her palm, placing a kiss on her knuckles. "As the Maharaja, I am bound to know my subjects. So I knew your name."

She pulled back herself from him, keeping her head low. "What do you want?"

"You."

"Excuse me?"

"I have come to take you, my princess." He smiled. It was so calm and...sharp. There was a maddening rage hidden behind his eyelashes. They were not directed at her, but at her father, the way his moustache twitched at his bold declaration. He circled around her and approached Raja Ruru. "I have come to take her back home."

"Aryavarta's richest palace was never her home."

"It will be, from now on. She will be my queen. Your queen."

Raja Ruru's mirthless laugh sent a chill down Sita's spine. "I am no one to stop you. But, ask the princess. If she says no—"

"She won't. Would you, Sita?"

His baritone softened. The princess couldn't discern what he was plotting. "I heard you know about my condition. You know I am amnesiac after what people describe as an accident that changed my life forever. Why do you still want to marry me?"

"My queen."

The imprudent brat of a maid came giggling and stood admiring the couple. The Maharaja spared her a caring glance. He took Sita's hands in his, again, holding them like fragile glass.

"If it pleases you, let me share my name. And if you allow, I shall tell you more. More than any of these men and women have let you see. I am not scared of your wounds. Nor of being vulnerable myself. You are my queen, Sita, and I am your Rama."