Manthara, the hunchbacked attendant known for her cunning and malice, was consumed with anger as she approached Queen Kaikeyi, who lay resting in her chamber. With a voice sharp and urgent, Manthara addressed her, “Rise, foolish woman! Why do you lie there so complacently? Calamity is upon you, yet you are blind to the misfortune that threatens to engulf you.” She continued, her words biting, “Though you seem blessed, you boast of good fortune where there is none. Your happiness is as fickle as a river’s flow in the dry season—never steady, always uncertain.” Stung by Manthara’s harsh speech, Kaikeyi felt a wave of distress wash over her. With concern, Kaikeyi looked at her longtime companion and asked gently, “Manthara, is all well? I see your face troubled and your heart heavy. Tell me, what weighs on you so?” Manthara, her voice trembling with anger yet skilled in persuasion, replied, her own sorrow deepening as she spoke, “O Queen, a great and unending disaster is upon you: King Dasharatha has decided to anoint Rama as crown prince. I am gripped by fear, sorrow, and burning grief. I have come here for your sake, for your suffering will be my suffering, your downfall my own, and your prosperity my joy. Do not doubt my loyalty.” She pressed on, “You were born into royalty and are chief among queens—how can you not see the gravity of royal affairs? Your husband, though he speaks of righteousness, is deceitful at heart. His words are gentle, but his actions are harsh. You trust him with your pure heart, and thus you have been deceived. Now he comes to you with empty comforts, but in truth, he will bestow all prosperity upon Kausalya today.” Manthara’s eyes narrowed. “That man, wicked in heart, will soon remove Bharata from the line and install Rama as king, leaving no obstacle in his path. An enemy disguised as a husband, and a mother who pretends to wish you well—such are serpents in a child’s embrace. So have you been held, Kaikeyi. Just as a hidden enemy or a neglected snake might act, so has King Dasharatha treated you and your son today.” She urged, “O naive one, always accustomed to comfort, you and your kin are being destroyed by the king’s soothing but false words as he places Rama on the throne. Act now, Kaikeyi! The time is right—save your son, yourself, and me, who stand witness to this astonishing turn of fate.” Hearing Manthara’s words, Kaikeyi rose from her bed, her face radiant with joy, like the crescent moon in autumn’s sky. Overwhelmed with delight and wonder, she rewarded Manthara with a splendid, divine ornament. Smiling, Kaikeyi spoke again, “Manthara, you have brought me the most pleasing news. Tell me, what more can I do for you? You have filled me with happiness.” She added, “I see no difference between Rama and Bharata; thus, I am glad the king will anoint Rama as heir. There is no greater boon for me than this. You, so dear to me, have spoken sweet and delightful words—words like nectar. For this, I grant you the highest boon—choose whatever you desire.” But Manthara, her envy undiminished, cast aside the ornament in anger and sorrow, and spoke sharply, “Why do you rejoice, foolish woman? Do you not see you are surrounded by an ocean of grief? Though I am overwhelmed by sorrow, I restrain myself for your sake. Why are you joyful when you should be mourning, having encountered such misfortune?” She lamented, “I grieve for your lack of understanding. What wise woman would celebrate the rise of a rival wife’s son, as if death itself had come? It is not only for Bharata that I fear, but for you as well—consider the sharing of the kingdom. I am distressed, for fear arises from those who foresee danger. Lakshmana is wholly devoted to Rama, just as Shatrughna is to Bharata. Even though, by order of birth, the succession should have gone to Bharata, the kingdom is being given to those two who are younger.” Manthara continued, “Fortunate indeed is Kausalya, whose son will be consecrated tomorrow as crown prince under the Pushya constellation by the foremost of Brahmanas. When the earth is filled with joy and Rama’s enemies are subdued, you will find yourself attending upon Kausalya with joined palms, like a servant. You and I, and all those with us, will become her attendants, and your son will serve Rama. Rama’s chief wives will rejoice, but your daughters-in-law will not be glad at Bharata’s fall.” Throughout Manthara’s tirade, Kaikeyi remained unmoved, her mind filled only with praise for Rama’s virtues. She replied, “Rama, the eldest son of the king, is righteous, virtuous, self-controlled, grateful, truthful, and pure. He truly deserves the succession. He will protect his brothers and servants like a father. Why, O hunchback, are you troubled by the news of Rama’s consecration? And surely, after a hundred years, Bharata too, the best of men, will inherit the kingdom from Rama, just as their father and grandfather did before.” Thus, even as Manthara’s words sowed seeds of doubt and fear, Kaikeyi’s heart remained steadfast in her love and trust for Rama, seeing in him no rival but only a son worthy of the throne.