The heavy teak doors of the bridal bath groaned shut behind the four maids, sealing Priya inside a world of steam, clinging jasmine scent, and whispered obscenities. The ancient bathing chamber was a cavern of pink marble, lit only by oil lamps set in niches. Their flames trembled, casting writhing shadows across the walls. A sunken pool, already swirling with milk, rose petals, and threads of saffron, dominated the centre of the floor. Priya stood naked at its edge, still wobbly, every inch of her skin singing with the memories of rough touch of his hands. The maids Ganga, Savitri, Lakshmi, and the eldest, Kesar Bai circled her like vultures.