At that moment, Manthara reminded Queen Kaikeyī of a conversation from the past. She recalled, “You once replied, ‘I will accept them when I desire,’ and your great-souled husband agreed with you. I did not know of this until you told me before, O queen.” Out of deep affection for Kaikeyī, Manthara had kept this memory close in her heart, and now she urged, “Stop the preparations for Rāma’s consecration and turn them back.” Manthara advised Kaikeyī to ask her husband, King Daśaratha, for two boons: to have Bharata anointed as king and to send Rāma into exile for fourteen years. She explained, “For those fourteen years, while Rāma dwells in the forest, your son, beloved by the people, will become firmly established.” She instructed Kaikeyī to enter the chamber of anger, as if enraged with the son of the lord of horses, and to remain hidden there on the ground, dressed in soiled garments. “Do not look upon him, nor speak to him,” Manthara continued. “When the king, longing for you and filled with sorrow, comes to you, stay weeping but do not address him.” Manthara reassured Kaikeyī, “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 bear to look upon you when you are angry; for your sake, the king would even give up his life. He cannot transgress your word. Understand, with your gentle nature, the power of your own good fortune.” Manthara reminded Kaikeyī not to set her heart on pearls, gems, gold, or various jewels that King Daśaratha would give her, but rather to remember the two boons he had granted her during the battle between gods and demons. “Remind him of those, O noble lady; that promise must not be broken.” She continued, “When Rāghava himself raises you up and the great king is present, then choose this boon. Let Rāma’s exile be for fourteen years—nine and five—and let Bharata be made king on earth, O bull among kings. For those fourteen years while Rāma dwells in the forest, your son will grow strong, take root, and remain established.” Manthara urged, “O queen, ask for this boon—the exile of Rāma; thus, all your son’s desires will be fulfilled, O desirous one. With Rāma exiled, he will no longer be Rāma, 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. Gathered with friends, self-possessed, and surrounded by loyal men, your son will be secure, and I believe the king will be without fear when the time comes.” She pressed Kaikeyī to restrain the king from his resolve to anoint Rāma, saying, “You have been led by her to accept misfortune in the guise of fortune.” Delighted and convinced by Manthara’s words, Kaikeyī spoke to her, for she had been led astray by the hunchback’s counsel, like a young girl. Kaikeyī, astonished and of surpassing beauty, 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; and 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.” Kaikeyī praised Manthara’s appearance, saying, “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, Manthara; your polished hips are adorned with a jeweled girdle. Your thighs are well-set, and both feet are long and extended; you, Manthara, clad in fine linen, have graceful thighs. When you walk before me, O exceedingly lovely one, you shine; the thousand magical arts that were with Shambara, lord of asuras—those arts have entered your heart, and thousands more besides; that very back, long and curved like a chariot’s yoke, is yours.” Kaikeyī continued, “Wisdom, knowledge of statecraft, and magical arts all dwell in you; here, O hunchback, I will bestow upon you a golden garland. When Bharata is anointed and Rāghava has gone to the forest, O beautiful one, I will anoint you with pure, well-refined gold. When you have achieved your desire and are delighted, I will smear your back with gold; and on your face, a beautiful, jeweled tilaka. I will have splendid ornaments made for you, O hunchback; dressed in fine garments, you will move about like a goddess. With a face shining like the moon and incomparable beauty, you will walk with a noble gait, making your rivals envious. Other hunchbacks, adorned with all ornaments, will serve at your feet, just as you always serve at mine.” Thus praised, Kaikeyī spoke these words to Manthara, as she lay on a pure couch, like a flame upon the altar. Manthara reminded her, “When the water is gone, a bridge is useless, O blessed one; arise, do what is auspicious, and seek out the king.” Encouraged by Manthara, the queen—her eyes wide and unspoiled by pride in her good fortune—went with her to the chamber of anger. There, the noble lady, worthy of the finest, took off her hundreds of thousands of pearl necklaces and splendid ornaments. Golden-hued and under the sway of Manthara’s words, Kaikeyī sat down on the ground and addressed Manthara.