Two years had passed since the catastrophe on the plains. The haveli was quieter now, a tomb built around a cold, enduring rage. Nakul, the Pradhan, had adhered to a strange, brutal penance. He had not touched Pankhudi.

The reason was twofold: the doctor, brought in secretly from the city, had warned him that her small body could not withstand another pregnancy yet, given the internal damage from the miscarriage. And the second reason was Nakul's own perverse, possessive fear of hurting his "little lamb" again. He had broken her once; he would not risk her life to his lust again.