Chapter 2: Forgotten Names and Palace Games

It was only when the guards stopped me in front of the royal study that I realized: maybe I’d agreed too quickly. My bare feet echoed on the cold corridor, the air thick as monsoon humidity before the first thunder. The guards didn’t even glance at me. In my faded silk, I was invisible—just another shadow in the palace.

But Rajmata had given me a whole box of soan papdi. Amma’s voice echoed: "Don’t eat someone’s salt and then turn your back, beta." I gripped the half-empty box, duty pressing on me as hard as hunger. I scratched my head, then spun around and shouted towards the royal study, "Raja Saheb! Raja Saheb! Main Shalu hoon! Darwaza khol do na!"

My words bounced off the high ceiling, scattering dust motes in the sunbeams. The guards shouted, "Arrey, kya tamasha hai! This is the royal study, not a bazaar!" Their faces reddened, moustaches twitching. "Bas, ab yeh bhi dekhna baaki tha," one muttered, raising his lathi. Fear prickled my skin, but Amma always said: "Jo chahiye, maang lo, beta."

I darted around the pillars, sari flapping, feet slapping on stone. "Raja Saheb! Raja Saheb! Shalu aayi hai, kuch poochhna hai!" My voice rose, half-hopeful, half-desperate. Servants peeked out, shaking their heads.

A stern voice thundered, "Who is making such a racket?" Suddenly, the study doors opened. Scented air—attar of roses and sandalwood—washed over me. Ministers, courtiers, and Raja Saheb himself emerged, his golden sherwani shimmering with five-headed peacocks. He looked every bit a king: tall, tired, and grave.

I panted, waving at him. He paused, surprise flickering across his face. The others murmured, staring as if I were a ghost. I grinned, "Raja Saheb, please tell them to stop chasing me. Shalu will die of thakaan!" He signaled the guards to step back, frowning—not unkindly, just confused. "You are Shalu? Kaunsi Shalu?"

I bent low, touching his feet as Amma taught me, forehead brushing the cold stone. "Shalu, east wing. Amma is Meera Bai." Some courtiers exchanged pitying glances. "Kaunsi Meera Bai?" Raja Saheb asked absently.

The old munshi whispered, "She was once a maid, served Maharani. Displeased Your Highness her first night, never called again. Later, she had Princess Shalu, but no name was given." The silence felt like a slap. I stared at the marble, wishing I could melt into it, Amma’s words echoing in my mind.