The palace was abuzz with excitement, and one of the nurses, overcome with joy, could hardly contain her delight. She hurried to tell Manthara, the hunchbacked attendant, of the great fortune about to befall Raghava—Rama himself. “Tomorrow,” she exclaimed, “under the auspicious Pushya star, King Dasharatha will anoint Rama, who is free from anger and without fault, as the crown prince!” But as soon as Manthara heard these words, her heart was seized by anger. With a swift, troubled descent from the palace, which stood tall like the peak of Mount Kailasa, she was ablaze with fury. Perceiving only misfortune, Manthara went at once to Kaikeyi, who lay resting, and addressed her sharply, “Get up, you fool! Why do you lie there so unaware? Danger is upon you, yet you do not see the calamity that is about to sweep you away.” She continued, her words harsh and biting, “Though you appear fortunate, you take pride in what will bring you ruin. Your fortune is as fickle as a river’s current in the heat of summer.” Struck by these stinging words, Kaikeyi was cast into sudden distress. Troubled, she turned to Manthara and asked gently, “Is all well, Manthara? I see your face clouded with sorrow. What has happened?” Hearing Kaikeyi’s calm concern, Manthara, still burning with anger but skilled in persuasive speech, replied with even greater agitation. Desiring Kaikeyi’s welfare, yet intent on turning her against Rama, Manthara spoke to stir her heart. “O Queen,” she declared, “a great and endless calamity threatens you: King Dasharatha has decided to anoint Rama as crown prince. I am filled with fear and sorrow, as if scorched by fire, and I have come to you out of concern for your well-being. Your sorrow will be my sorrow, your decline my decline, your happiness my happiness—of this, there is no doubt.” She pressed on, “You were born into royalty and are the king’s chief queen. How can you not see the seriousness of royal affairs? Your husband, though he speaks of righteousness, is cunning; his words are gentle, but his heart is hard. Because you are pure-hearted, you have been deceived by him. Now he comes to you with empty consolations, but in truth, he is casting you aside and bestowing all fortune on Kausalya.” Manthara’s voice grew more urgent. “That wicked-hearted man will soon remove Bharata from your side and install Rama as king, overcoming all obstacles. An enemy disguised as a husband, and a mother who pretends concern, are like a venomous serpent embraced by a child—so have you been held. Just as an enemy or a neglected snake would act, so today King Dasharatha treats you and your son.” She warned further, “You, accustomed to comfort, have been ruined along with your kin by the sinful one who, with sweet words, is placing Rama on the throne. Therefore, Kaikeyi, act quickly while you still can. Save your son, yourself, and me, who am witnessing all this in disbelief.” Upon hearing Manthara’s words, Kaikeyi, her face radiant, rose from her bed, her joy shining like the crescent moon in autumn. Overwhelmed with happiness and wonder at the news, she rewarded Manthara with a splendid divine ornament. Having bestowed the ornament, Kaikeyi, still delighted, spoke again, “This news you have brought me, Manthara, is most pleasing. Tell me what more I can do for you, for you have brought me such joy.” She continued, “I see no difference between Rama and Bharata, so I am glad that the king will anoint Rama as heir. There is no greater blessing for me than this. You, who are worthy of affection, have spoken sweet and delightful words, like nectar. For this, I grant you the highest and best boon—choose whatever you wish.” But Manthara, filled with envy, cast aside the ornament, her anger and sorrow undiminished. “Why have you, foolish one, rejoiced without cause?” she demanded. “Do you not realize you are surrounded by an ocean of sorrow?” She pressed her point, “Though I am overwhelmed by grief, I restrain myself for your sake, O queen. Why are you joyful when you should be mourning, faced with such misfortune? I grieve for your lack of understanding. What wise woman would rejoice at the rise of her rival’s son, as if welcoming death itself?” Manthara continued, “It is not only for Bharata, but also out of fear for Rama, that I am distressed about the sharing of the kingdom. Fear arises from the fearful, and I am deeply concerned. Mighty-armed Lakshmana is wholly devoted to Rama, just as Shatrughna is to Bharata. Yet, O beautiful one, though Bharata should have inherited the throne by right, the succession has gone to those who are younger.” She lamented, “Fortunate indeed is Kausalya, whose son will be consecrated tomorrow as crown prince, under the Pushya star, by the foremost of Brahmanas. When Rama rules the earth, joyful and secure, and all enemies are subdued, you will serve Kausalya with joined palms, like a servant. You and I, along with your son, will become attendants to her and to Rama.” She added, “Rama’s chief wives will rejoice, while your daughters-in-law will not be pleased at Bharata’s fall from grace.” Yet, as Manthara spoke so forcefully, Kaikeyi, filled with satisfaction, could only praise Rama’s virtues in reply.