She sat down in front of the dressing table once more. She applied a little more mascara to her eyelashes hoping to hide the red eyes. After the reception, the children had dropped her off in this room filled with her dowry. The bed was neatly made and flowers hung from all the corners of the room. She was waiting for her husband. Sheela, her eldest niece, had teased her before herding all the other children away, “Enjoy your first night with your husband. Forgive me, but I will never get to rib you again.” She got up from the seat and went over to the bed. “Hide your emotions as much as you can. Concealment is a woman’s highest virtue.” Her mother had lectured her after the marriage had been fixed. Your brothers and I have raised you like a princess but things will not be the same when you go to your husband’s home. Don’t do anything that will embarrass us. Always treat your parents-in-law with utmost respect, no matter how they treat you. You will be at their mercy and they can easily make life much harder for you. Love the children, the children will love you back. But save the best for your husband. Treat him like a prince, comply with all his desires and demands. Stand up for him in private, but do not show your affection in public. Remember, your husband is your God. Last night, she had come to bid good-bye to Naani. “Please forgive us, Naani. Please promise me that you will not make a scene if your husband turns out to be the older brother.” “But maa, how am I going to live with an old man?” “Shh, whatever he is, he is your husband. Now promise me.” Unable to turn her mother down, she had sobbed, “I promise.” She took out the pillow from underneath the quilt and pressed it on her lap. If her husband turned out to be the elder brother, there would be no end to her miseries, she thought. His parents did not like him. He had rebelled against them to work outside the family. Their age difference would only worsen their relationship; he wouldn’t be able to understand her desires or fulfill them. She jumped out of the bed when she heard the knock. She tried to prepare herself mentally not to betray her emotions as she walked to the door. She stopped breathing when she unlocked the door. “Please come in,” she could barely hear her own voice. “Look up, I want to see your face,” her husband said softly. Eyes closed, she lifted her head. “You are not going to keep me from seeing those eyes, are you?” the man’s voice could not conceal his excitement and nervousness. She opened her eyes slowly and saw a handsome, young man smiling at her. His hair looked stupid with the coif on. She smiled and began to cry. “Don’t cry. Trust me, I will take care of you until I breathe last,” he said as he pulled her towards him. “What should I call you?” “Naani,” she said shyly.