This was the first time she had stepped beyond the Iron Curfew without one of her consorts or good-mother Kunti, and it had all been thanks to the request for an audience, by Lady Satyabhama. Draupadi had been surprised to receive her message, for ever since her arrival, Lady Satyabhama had looked daggers at her. Nevertheless, Draupadi was still excited.

Heading out had been difficult. In the house they had been graciously gifted by Krishna in the First District, everything was noise and confusion. Horses were being saddled and led from the stables, wagons were being loaded, and everyone was in an uproar to be off to Hastinapur for Arjun’s trial. Arjun himself was to travel with Yudhistir and Sahadev on the griffin Krishna had lent them. Bheem, Kunti, the Twins and Draupadi, were to travel by road, with a mighty escort. Leaving in the midst of all the preparations felt irresponsible, but a Princess must always uphold the courtesies, and Draupadi resolved to behave like one, present circumstances notwithstanding.

The Iron Curfew looked daunting as her carriage crossed it. Yudhistir had told her that it was built of stone, thick enough to withstand the most withering fire and munition attack. A moat encircled the Curfew like a snug necklace. It would have looked beautiful had it not been for the clouds of dust rising from the work going on in the underground tunnels inside the First District. Draupadi had been forced to veil her face even inside the palanquin as she had crossed the digging sites, the tunnel dust stinging her eyes worse than sand.

She stretched out her legs on the soft padding of the palanquin. The Merchant Street in the Second District was less likely to offer a bumpy ride, tempting her to lie down, but she could not forget the etiquette demanded of her. Consort to a Rebel Prince, after all. Princes, she corrected herself.