QUOTE : At first I thought you were your mother, come to free me from my hell. Like an angel. You take after her, though you are as young as I remember.”<br />I stared at my ash-covered feet, and the hair that fell in a mussed braid by my side. I thought of Bharata’s dead walking past my bedroom while I slept. I thought of Vikram weeping for his dead mother while I kissed the Dharma Raja in a winter room. I was no angel.<br />“Who rules in your stead?”<br />“The <i>yuvuraja</i>, Skanda,” said the Raja, thoughtfully tugging on his beard. Death had not relieved him of all his habits. I almost smiled to see the familiar gesture. “I hope he remembers all I have said. Sometimes I expect to see him across my cell. And I do not know if he will be young as I remember him, or old because time has passed and I am here.” He looked at the ground. “Do not pity me, daughter. Everyone comes here. Some merely stay longer than others.”<br />We stared at each other through the glass. I could feel his eyes searching me, trying to match up the memory of when he had last seen me to the person who stood before him now.<br />“Partnered with Death itself,” he said, repeating a part of my horoscope. A harsh laugh escaped him. “I understand now.” The Raja moved away from his mirror wall, his eyes twinkling as he bowed low.