The Far Pavilions - Mary Margaret Kaye [48]
5
Ash enjoyed the wedding festivities as much as anyone, and for the first time in her short life, the four-year-old Kairi was ordered to take part, as a Princess of Gulkote, in an official ceremony.
As the sister of the Yuveraj, it was her privilege to present the first gifts to the bride; and she had done so dressed in unfamiliar finery and decked with resplendent jewels that had at first delighted her by their colour and glitter, and then tired her by their weight and the way their sharp edges scratched. But as her sole ornament hitherto had been a small mother-of-pearl fish that she wore on a string about her neck as a ‘luck-piece’ (it had belonged to her mother and once been part of a set of Chinese counters) she had greatly enjoyed the dignity they lent her. It was nice to feel important for once, and she had revelled in that and performed her duties with becoming seriousness.
The ceremonies and festivity had continued for over a week, and when at last they were over and bride and guests had returned to their own homes, Kairi's borrowed finery was whisked away from her and returned to one of the numerous chests that filled the Rajah's treasury, and only tattered decorations, fading wreaths and a smell of stale incense and decaying flowers remained to show that the great occasion had come and gone. The Hawa Mahal and its Rajah relapsed into lethargy, and Janoo-Bai the Rani set about planning far more spectacular alliances for her own small sons.
As for Lalji, now that all the excitement was over he found that the dignity of his married state added nothing to his importance, and that for all the difference it had made to life he might just as well have done without those long, tiring ceremonies. He thought his wife was a stupid little thing and not particularly pretty, and could only hope that she would grow up to look more attractive. Dunmaya said she would; but then Dunmaya would say anything to please him. With the departure of the wedding guests his father had lost interest in him, and once again time hung heavy on his hands and he felt crosser and unhappier than ever. Wherefore he quarrelled with his suite and made life so miserable for Ash that it was some time during those dismal months, in the flat aftermath of the wedding, that Ash for the first time discussed with Sita the possibility of their leaving Gulkote.
Sita had been aghast at the idea. Not on her own account, for she would have sacrificed anything for his sake; but because she did not believe that he would be better off anywhere else, or that his present mood was anything more than a boy's natural reaction to the churlish behaviour of the Yuveraj, which would pass. Sita was fully aware of the Yuveraj's problems; there were few secrets in the palace, and though it angered her that he should vent his spleen on her beloved son, she, like Hira Lal, could not help feeling a certain sympathy for the motherless, neglected heir whose father was too idle to champion him and whose step-mother prayed for his early death. His fits of ill-temper and sporadic outbursts of cruelty were surely no more than could be expected of a boy caught in such an intolerable web of circumstances, and Ashok must learn to bear with them and try to forgive them. Besides, it was certain that the Yuveraj would never willingly allow him to leave, and he must not even think of running away; it would be impossible, and even if he should succeed, where could they go? Where else could they live in such comfort and security as here, in a Rajah's palace and enjoying the salary and status of royal servants?
‘Do they pay you then, mother?’ inquired Ash bitterly. ‘Me, they do not – though it was promised me. Oh, I am given food and clothing. But never money. And if I ask for it they say, “Later. Another time. Next month.” I have not so much as a pice to give or spend.’
‘But piara, we are both fed and clothed,’ urged Sita. ‘And we have a roof over our heads and a fire to warm ourselves by. Besides, do