In the southern residence, Khari entered the chambers smiling. She was saddened by the limited visitations and how only one person was allowed to visit Sirene at a time. She missed her sister dearly and was looking forward to hearing about the visit from her mother.
"Did you see Sirene?" she asked eagerly.
Foni turned sharply. Judgement rested in her stare. She had stopped viewing Khari with a motherly tenderness. To her, Khari had become a familiar enemy. "Your sister isn't happy." She announced.
Khari froze. Worried. "What happened?"
"Everyone in the palace is talking about you. You're now more popular than the one marrying the prince. You've managed to steal Sirene's spotlight. Has it been your intention all along?"
Khari was internally wounded by the words escaping Foni's lips. "What?"
Foni's voice rose. "What did you do?"
"I did nothing!"
Foni paced the room angrily. "Your sister has been summoned by the king's concubines. Do you understand what that means?"
Khari shook her head helplessly. Her mother felt like a stranger, no excuse could enter her ear now. So, Khari thought. What had she done wrong ever since she stepped into the palace? Strike wrong. She thought again. What had she done that might have caused a misunderstanding.
Then she found it. The possible clue.
It was logically the one.
"I met the king the other day, by accident," she said quietly.
Foni spun around. "You what?"
"It was at the pond," Khari explained. "We spoke for a while."
"And then?"
Khari hesitated. "He asked for an embrace."
Foni covered her face. "Oh gods."
"I couldn't refuse him! He is the king,"
Foni snapped. "But he is also a married man!"
Khari felt tears sting her eyes. "I never meant—"
"You are bitter," Foni interrupted harshly. "Your sister received a prince, so you aimed higher."
Khari stared at her in shock, "How could you think that?"
Foni's voice trembled with anger, "The story you told at the celebration—about your name—that was your attempt to gain the king's attention. A bringer of joy? You give me no joy, only dejection. I chose you! I took you in-"
Khari's heart shattered. The meaning was almost ambiguous. "You chose me?"
"And I'm starting to regret it"
Khari opened her mouth to speak—
But the door burst open. Maya entered quickly.
"Kharivanpa," she said. "Consort Sirene wishes to see you."
Foni stepped forward. "I'm coming too."
Maya shook her head. "She asked to see her sister alone."
Khari and Maya left together.
Behind them, Foni stood frozen with worry. Anger had caused her to speak words she swore never to utter. But she'd decided to own them. Water had already spilled.
...
The palace paths were already alive with movement when Khari followed Maya through the courtyard.
Servants crossed the stone walkways carrying baskets and folded linens. Guards stood motionless beside archways. Somewhere nearby, a fountain splashed softly against polished marble.
But Khari barely noticed any of it. Maya walked quickly, her pace almost urgent, and Khari had to hurry to keep up.
"What did my sister say?" Khari asked breathlessly.
Maya did not answer.
They reached a junction where several palace corridors met.
A tall figure stood ahead of them. The head priest Tarula. His thin body leaned slightly on a carved walking stick, and his white robes drifted faintly in the mid-day breeze. His eyes looked ancient—like someone who had stared too long at things ordinary people could not see.
Maya immediately bowed her head.
Khari copied the gesture.
As they passed him, Tarula did not move.
His eyes stayed fixated on Khari as though the world had suddenly stopped turning.
Even after she walked by his gaze lingered on her retreating figure.
"It can't be," he whispered under his breath.
***