Shall I go first or follow, my sister?"
Her voice lingered on the word. It was precious to her. It was
like clear water, laying away the stain of the shameful years.
"Your arm is strong," answered the Queen. "I go first. Because
the King's son is safe, I bless you. For your love of the King, I
love you. And here, standing on the verge of life, I testify that
the words of the Blessed One are truth - that love is All; that
hatred is Nothing."
She bared the breast that this woman had made desolate - that,
with the love of this woman, was desolate ho longer, and,
stooping, laid her hand on the brow of Mindon. Once more they
embraced, and then, strong and true, and with the Rajput passion
behind the blow, the stroke fell and Sundari had given her sister
the crowning mercy of deliverance. She laid the body beside her
own son, composing the stately limbs, the quiet eyelids, the
black lengths of hair into majesty. So, she thought, in the great
temple of the Rajput race, the Mother Goddess shed silence and
awe upon her worshippers. The two lay like mother and son - one
slight hand of the Queen she laid across the little body as if to
guard it.
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