Prithusen had stifled his conscience for the sake of Seero. It was because of Seero’s obduracy that he had lost Divya. By losing Divya he had also lost the long-cherished dream of his life. He could not tolerate Seero’s blatant indiscretions. Exercising his right as a husband he once rebuked her. Seero burst into tears and denied the truth of the accusations. Then, finding submission to her husband unbearable, like an angry snake, she hissed back at him, ‘I am no slave that you have bought. It is you who are dependent on me. I am not a pet that you can keep on a leash in your house. Nor am I a slave kept for your physical enjoyment. Don’t you sleep with prostitutes? How many slave-girls have you to keep you company in bed? There is no end to the women who do different things to satisfy your desires! You’re not the only man in the world. There are many others like you, and better than you. I’m not the slave-wife of a Brahmin family. I have the blood of a Greek conqueror in my veins. I’m not a brood mare from whom you can breed foals, so that they can pull the chariot of your family. If you insult me, I can turn the whole community against you. If I can have you appointed as the Commander-in-Chief, I can find another to replace you. Oh, what will happen to me when my grandfather is dead?’ She began to cry bitterly.

Prithusen’s eyes burned like hot coals. His fingers itched to grab Seero’s throat and throttle her. His hand dropped to the hilt of his sword to cut off her head, but then, the image of his dispassionate, far-sighted father and that of the aged President, with his retinue of Greek nobles, appeared before his eyes! Prithusen heaved a sigh of impotent rage and resigned himself.

Seero was not somebody that he could crush in his fingers. The vast authority of the President of the Republic stood like a shield before her to protect her. Greek nobles were there to stand by her. She would not become docile under his authority. She was conscious of her strength and was prepared to exercise it against him. For twisting her neck, Prithusen would have to pay with his own neck. At the earliest opportunity, thousands of Brahmin swords would flicker like hot tongues, thirsting for the blood of Prithusen and his family.

For several days Prithusen brooded, sometimes his unseeing eyes fixed upon distant objects, at other times with his head bowed. At last he came to the conclusion that his wise and shrewd father was right; there was only one reality in life, and that was power. And the thing that would bring him satisfaction was the exercise of power. Power was the force that moved the world. Had he wielded absolute power, as the kings of the Maurya dynasty in Magadh once did, he would have had Seero burnt alive on a pyre for her sinful behaviour. No, tied to a post, a frightened Seero would have gazed on silently. He thought of Divya, as the First Consort, how she would have nestled in his arms. And he would have made Seero wash their feet!