Kaikeyī, troubled and anxious, began to ponder deeply on how she might secure the kingdom for her son Bharata, ensuring that Rāma would not ascend the throne by any means. As she wrestled with these thoughts, her confidante Mantharā, ever watchful and intent on harming Rāma, spoke to her with cunning words. “Kaikeyī,” Mantharā said, “listen closely and heed my advice, so that only your son Bharata will inherit the kingdom. Why do you not recall—or why do you conceal—the matter that most concerns your own interest, when you wish to hear from me? If you desire to hear what I have to say, O playful one, then listen well; I will tell you, and once you have heard, you must act accordingly.” Hearing Mantharā’s words, Kaikeyī stirred from her well-spread bed and spoke, eager to hear more. Mantharā, seeking to sow discord, continued, “Long ago, during the great war between the gods and demons, your husband Daśaratha, accompanied by the royal sages, took you with him to aid Indra, the lord of the gods. You traveled southward, Kaikeyī, toward Daṇḍaka, to the city called Vaijayantam, where the shark-banner was raised high. There, a mighty demon named Śambara, master of a hundred magical illusions, fought fiercely against Indra, undefeated by the gods. In that terrible battle, the demons drove away the men and, at night, mercilessly killed the wounded and sleeping. Amidst this chaos, King Daśaratha fought valiantly, his powerful arms shattered by weapons. O queen, you carried your unconscious husband from the battlefield, protecting him even while he was 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 did not know of this, O queen, until you revealed it to me before. Out of affection for you, I have kept this story in my heart. Now, you must prevent the preparations for Rāma’s consecration and turn them back. Ask your husband for those two boons: let Bharata be anointed king, and let Rāma be exiled to the forest for fourteen years. In that time, while Rāma dwells in the forest, your son, beloved by the people, will become firmly established. Today, enter the chamber of anger, as if enraged with Daśaratha, and remain hidden on the ground, wearing soiled garments. Do not look upon him or speak to him; when the king, longing for you and sorrowful, 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, he would even give up his life. The king cannot transgress your word. Understand, with your gentle nature, the power of your own good fortune. Daśaratha would gladly give you pearls, gems, gold, and jewels—but do not set your heart on these. Remind him of the two boons he granted you during the battle between gods and demons, O noble lady; that promise must not be broken. When Rāma himself raises you up and the king is present, then choose this boon: let Rāma’s exile be for fourteen years—nine and five—and let Bharata be made king, O bull among kings. During these fourteen years, while Rāma is away, your son will grow strong, take root, and remain established. O queen, ask for this boon—the exile of Rāma; thus, all your son’s desires will be fulfilled. With Rāma exiled, he will no longer be a threat, and Bharata, free from enemies, will become king for you. By the time Rāma returns from the forest, your son will be firmly rooted both within and without. Surrounded by loyal friends and men, your son will be secure, and I believe the king will be without fear when the time comes. Restrain the king from his resolve to anoint Rāma; you have been led by her to accept misfortune disguised as fortune.” Delighted and convinced by Mantharā’s words, Kaikeyī spoke to her, for she had been led astray by the hunchback’s counsel, as a young girl is swayed. Astonished and radiant in her beauty, Kaikeyī said, “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; you alone are ever devoted and well-wishing towards 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. Your face is pure as the spotless moon—indeed, you shine, Mantharā; your polished hips are adorned with a jeweled girdle.” Thus, Kaikeyī, swayed by Mantharā’s counsel and praise, prepared to follow her advice, setting the stage for the fateful events to come.