The Rathore Curse

The carved sandstone walls of the Rathore haveli have absorbed generations of screams. Now they drink in Mira's quiet sobs as Vikram's diamond signet ring carves another tally into the teak bedpost-"nineteen marks, nineteen conquered." "Count," he whispers against her bleeding lip. "Or shall I subtract one from your sister's medicine fund?" Udaipur's golden prince hides a monster's ledger: - The *kohl* lining his eyes is mixed with the ashes of Mira's burnt textbooks - His "gifts" arrive in bloodstained velvet-a single pearl torn from her mother's stolen necklace - The servants' quarters reek of kerosene and kept secrets