As Mantharā, the hunchbacked maid, walked before Kaikeyi, her beauty seemed to shine even brighter, as if she possessed the thousand magical arts once held by Shambara, the lord of the asuras. These arts, along with thousands more, had entered Mantharā’s heart, and her back, long and curved like a chariot’s yoke, was unmistakable. Kaikeyi praised Mantharā, acknowledging that wisdom, knowledge of statecraft, and magical arts all resided within her. She promised Mantharā a golden garland and declared that, when Bharata was anointed and Rāghava had gone to the forest, she would anoint Mantharā herself with pure, refined gold. When Mantharā’s desires were fulfilled and she was delighted, Kaikeyi vowed to smear her back with gold and adorn her face with a beautiful jeweled tilaka. Kaikeyi continued, saying she would have splendid ornaments made for Mantharā; dressed in fine garments, Mantharā would move about like a goddess. With a face shining like the moon and incomparable beauty, Mantharā would walk with a noble gait, causing envy among her rivals. Other hunchbacked maidservants, adorned with all manner of ornaments, would serve at Mantharā’s feet, just as Mantharā always served at Kaikeyi’s. Thus praised, Mantharā found Kaikeyi lying on a pure couch, like a flame upon the altar. Mantharā spoke: "When the water is gone, a bridge is useless, O blessed one; arise, do what is auspicious, and seek out the king." Encouraged by Mantharā’s words, Kaikeyi—her eyes wide and unspoiled by pride in her good fortune—went with her to the chamber of anger. The noble queen, worthy of the finest, removed her hundreds of thousands of pearl necklaces and splendid ornaments. Golden-hued and influenced by Mantharā’s words, Kaikeyi sat down on the ground and spoke to her: "Here, O hunchback, you may report to the king that I am dead; but when Rāghava goes to the forest, Bharata will obtain the kingdom. I have no desire for gold, nor for jewels, nor for food and drink; this is the end of my life if Rāma is anointed." Mantharā, bold in speech, again addressed the queen, offering both helpful and harmful advice concerning Rāma: "If Rāghava surely attains this kingdom, then you and your son will suffer. Therefore, O noble lady, strive so that your son Bharata will be anointed." Deeply wounded and struck again and again by Mantharā’s sharp words, Kaikeyi placed her hands on her heart in great astonishment, angrily reproaching Mantharā. She repeated, "When I have gone from here to the realm of Yama, you will report it, O hunchback; or, when Rāghava has gone to the forest for a long time, Bharata, his desires fulfilled, will prosper. I do not desire bedding, nor garlands, nor sandalwood, nor ointments, nor food or drink; I wish for nothing here, not even life itself, if Rāghava does not go to the forest from here." Having spoken these dreadful words, the radiant queen cast aside all her ornaments and lay down upon the bare ground, as if a celestial nymph had fallen. Her face was darkened by rising anger, and the finest garlands and jewels had been thrown aside. The king’s wife became despondent, like the sky veiled in darkness with its stars obscured. Listen now to the tenth sarga in the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kāṇḍa. When Kaikeyi was harshly reproached by the sinful hunchback, she lay on the ground like a celestial nymph struck down by poison. Having firmly decided what must be done, the radiant queen slowly revealed everything to Mantharā, with discernment. Distressed and determined, bewildered by Mantharā’s words, Kaikeyi sighed long and hot, like a serpent maiden. For a moment she pondered a course that would bring her happiness; devoted to her friend and her own interests, she made her decision after hearing Mantharā’s counsel. Mantharā was exceedingly pleased, as if her aim had been achieved. The queen, now angered, made her resolve firm. Weak and dejected, she lay down on the ground, her brows furrowed; her splendid garlands and divine ornaments—cast off by Kaikeyi—fell to the ground. She lay fallen in the chamber of anger, her garments soiled, making the earth appear unsightly, just as stars do to the sky. Her hair was bound in a single, tight braid, like a kinnari bereft of life; the great king had already ordered Rāghava’s consecration. The self-controlled king, worthy of bringing joy to his beloved, entered the inner apartments. The illustrious one entered Kaikeyi’s finest chamber, which was like the sky with pale clouds and the moon seized by Rāhu, filled with peacocks and barhin birds, resounding with the cries of cranes and swans. The chamber echoed with music, filled with hunchbacked and dwarf maidservants, adorned with bowers and painted chambers, beautified by campaka and aśoka trees. It was furnished with platforms of ivory, silver, and gold, graced with ever-flowering, fruit-bearing trees and pools of water. The finest seats of ivory, silver, and gold were covered, and the chamber was supplied with various foods, drinks, and all kinds of delicacies. Adorned with precious ornaments, like the abode of the gods, the great king entered his splendid inner palace. Yet the king did not see his wife Kaikeyi on the excellent bed. Filled with desire and longing for pleasure, the lord of men searched for her. Not seeing his beloved wife, he asked after her and became dejected, for never before had the queen stayed away at such a time.