According to Ki Joko Kuncoro, Herjuno’s vision was no mere dream. Nor was the beautiful woman an ordinary woman, but the Queen of the South Sea. Meeting her would lead to one of two outcomes: happiness or havoc.

‘She is zealous, merciless,’ he said. ‘Everyone knows that each year the South Sea demands life. Countless victims have been dragged beneath the waves. Not only those who dare to swim, but also those who simply sit and play with grains of sand. Before their death, they might hear a song, honey-sweet and seductive. A siren’s call. Then, as if sleepwalking, they heed the call of the sea. Some bodies are never found.’

‘I’ve heard of her. The princess who so desired everlasting beauty that she traded her life for the fate of shadows,’ said Herjuno. It sounded dreadful to me.

‘Actually, there’s another tale,’ said Ki Joko. ‘The Sundanese version. In the era of the Pajajaran kingdom, a princess suffered from a hideous affliction of the skin, an unnatural disease that could bring misfortune to the entire land. She was expelled from the kingdom by her ashamed family. She committed suicide, drowning herself in the clear waters of the sea. Water can salve scabies and sin. One day, when a royal entourage was praying in Pelabuhan Ratu, a beautiful princess appeared. The Hideous One had been transformed into a queen of the spirits and now held her throne in the South Sea.’

Herjuno nodded, frowning. I was startled. This story was no cheerier. Women so lacking in confidence that they kill themselves are no less worrisome than those obsessed with beauty.

‘So, she fell in love with Senopati, as he prayed for the prosperity of his people?’ I asked.

‘Yes, but maybe more than that. Senopati was meditating, gathering all his mental energy, seeking a strategy to oppose the northern kingdom. No one truly knows what happened. It is said that for three days and three nights, the Queen shared secrets with Senopati: political secrets, military secrets and carnal secrets.’

Three days and three nights. She certainly knew how to set the chess pieces of statecraft in motion.

‘And you must remember,’ Ki Joko warned, ‘never doubt her strength. She is a jealous woman; it is taboo for maidens of Kidul to wear orange or chequered cloth in the sea. It makes her angry, and when she is angry, she will devour anything. Livestock. Children. Babies. She is like Calon Arang, master of black magic. Her rage is blind. She can destroy you.’

‘What should I do, then?’ Herjuno asked.

Ki Joko shook his head. ‘History will repeat itself. Don’t you see? Senopati gained power by merging with Kanjeng Ratu Kidul, body and soul.’