I stepped out of Veer's room and into the corridor, the ruby ring heavy and warm on my finger, the deep red saree swishing around my ankles like a pool of blood. The house was stirring, the familiar sounds of morning, Papaji's stick tapping, Arjun's radio blaring some old Hindi song, the clatter of dishes from the kitchen where the servants were preparing chai. Everything was the same. And yet nothing was.

I was not the same woman who had crawled into this corridor seven nights ago, dripping with hunger and desperation, ready to devour any man who crossed her path. I was still hungry. The serpent still coiled in my womb. But now I held the reins. Now I could summon the hunger or dismiss it, wield it like a blade or sheathe it like a jewel. Veer had given me that. And I would honor his training by becoming exactly what he had declared me to be. A queen.