A woman carefully applied kajal to the bottom rims of her eyes. She put her finger in a bowl of powder and colored the part of her hair red and finished with a small mark on her forehead. There was a knock at the door. She turned away from the mirror. The door cracked open. “Madam? They are calling for you,” a quiet voice came, evidently from the help. “Teek hai,” she answered, her voice low and husky, but not ugly. She looked back to the mirror and gave herself a vague smile, but it was filled with more danger than mirth. She stood effortlessly from her pad in front of the mirror and placed the end of her flame red sari over her head with false modesty. Her anklets jingling, she descended downstairs from her quarters.
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