I... have never lied to you, about myself, nor anyone. But there is... a great deal about me you do not know. [ Lakshmi leans forward on her elbows, hooking them on the inside of her legs. Wishing she had something to hold, tap her fingers against, give her something to do that wasn't just sitting and talking about miserable things she did her best, to cut apart from herself, remove to fractions that were easily digestible.

If she does it now, it is because if she is to make this the whole way through in a sensible, useful manner, it still must be held at an arm's length. ]

I am Jhansi ki Rani, the Maharani, Queen of Jhansi, who was Manikarnika, or Manu to those that knew her as a young woman, born to a Brahmin family, whose father and mother were servants, that became Lakshmi Bai when she married the Maharaja Gangadhar Rao Newalker according to all proper costume. Who bore him a son, who lost that child and her husband and was made a widow and sole regent of the throne so that their adoptive heir might one day come to rule. [ She tenses, loosens, tenses again. A cut on the roof of her mouth, imagined or otherwise, that she presses her tongue against. It would heal, if only she would stop - ]

But... that was not to be, for me.