Kaikeyī, filled with determination, declared to herself, “Today, I shall swiftly send Rāma away to the forest, and I will just as quickly have Bharata anointed as the heir to the throne.” Her mind raced as she pondered, “How can I accomplish this so that Bharata alone gains the kingdom, and Rāma does not, by any means?” Hearing Kaikeyī’s anxious words, Mantharā—ever watchful for mischief and intent on harming Rāma—spoke to the queen with calculated urgency. “Kaikeyī, listen carefully to what I have to say. If you wish for your son Bharata to be the sole heir, you must pay close attention to my words. Why do you not recall—or if you do, why do you conceal—the matter that concerns your own welfare, especially when you seek my counsel?” Mantharā continued, “If you truly wish to hear what I am about to reveal, then listen closely. I will tell you, and you must act as I instruct.” At these words, Kaikeyī, stirred by curiosity and concern, rose slightly from her well-adorned bed and addressed Mantharā, eager for her advice. Mantharā, intent on her scheme, spoke again, “Long ago, when a great war raged between the gods and demons, your husband, King Daśaratha, took you with him, along with the royal sages, to aid the lord of the gods. You journeyed southward toward Daṇḍaka, to the city of Vaijayantam, where the banner of the shark flew high.” “There, a mighty demon named Śambara—master of a hundred magical illusions, undefeated by the gods—engaged Indra in battle. The demons, in their cruelty, would drive away the men and, under cover of night, slay the wounded and sleeping with merciless force. Amidst this fierce conflict, Daśaratha fought valiantly, though his mighty arms were shattered by weapons. O queen, it was you who carried your unconscious husband from the battlefield, protecting him even as he lay wounded.” “Pleased by your devotion, Daśaratha granted you two boons, saying, ‘Whenever you wish, you may claim them.’ At that time, you replied, ‘I will accept them when I desire,’ and your noble husband agreed. I was unaware of this promise until you told me before, O queen. Out of affection for you, I have kept this story in my heart. Now is the time to act: prevent the preparations for Rāma’s consecration and turn them back.” “Ask your husband for these two boons: that Bharata be anointed as king, and that Rāma be exiled to the forest for fourteen years. During that time, while Rāma dwells in the wilderness, your son—steadfast in the people’s affection—will become firmly established as ruler.” “Today, enter the chamber of anger as if enraged with the king, and remain hidden there on the ground, dressed in soiled garments. Do not look at him or speak to him. When the king, longing for you and filled with sorrow, comes to you, remain weeping but do not address him. You are always dear to your husband—of this I have no doubt. For your sake, the great king would even enter the fire. He cannot become angry with you, nor can he bear to see you angry; for your sake, Daśaratha would even give up his life.” “The king cannot go against your word. You must realize, with your gentle nature, the power of your own good fortune. He would give you pearls, gems, gold, and all manner of jewels—do not set your heart on these. Instead, remind him of the two boons he granted you in the battle between gods and demons. That promise must not be broken.” “When Rāma himself comes to comfort you and the king is present, then ask for your boons: let Rāma’s exile be for fourteen years—nine and five—and let Bharata be made king over the earth. For those fourteen years, while Rāma dwells in the forest, your son will grow strong and firmly rooted in power.” “O queen, ask for this boon—the exile of Rāma—so that all your son’s desires may be fulfilled. With Rāma gone, he will no longer be a threat, and Bharata, free from rivals, will be king for you. By the time Rāma returns, your son will be firmly established, both within and without. Surrounded by loyal friends and men, Bharata will be secure, and I believe the king will have no fear for the future.” “Restrain the king from his resolve to anoint Rāma; do not let misfortune come to you disguised as fortune.” Hearing these words, Kaikeyī was delighted and convinced. Led astray by Mantharā’s cunning counsel, she replied with wonder and gratitude, “I do not disregard your wisdom, you who speak what is best among the best. Among all hunchbacks on earth, you are supreme in discernment, and ever devoted to my interests.” “I could not have understood what the king intended, O hunchback, for there are hunchbacks who are ill-disposed, crooked, and exceedingly wicked. But you are lovely to behold, bent like a lotus by the wind; your chest rises from your shoulders, firmly set within your breast. Below, your calm belly is modest like a well-formed navel; your hips are full, and your breasts are beautifully rounded.” Thus, Kaikeyī, swayed by Mantharā’s words, resolved upon the course that would change the destiny of Ayodhyā.