"His Majesty only came to me once, as was his duty." She laughed but there was no mirth in her voice. "Remember I was only fifteen then. I knew nothing about lovemaking, though I tried very hard to please him. But by that time he was already entranced with Shirin. He began to call for her almost every afternoon."
"So what did you do after that?"
"I began to make love to the other women there. I suppose it sounds strange to you, but I found I actually enjoyed other women's bodies very much."
"Weren't you ever lonely?"
"A little. But I'm lonely here sometimes too." She paused and looked away. "A courtesan is always lonely. No man will ever truly love her. He'll listen to her sing to him and joke with him, but his heart will never be hers, regardless of all the sweet promises he'll think to make her."
Hawksworth watched her quickly mask the sadness in her eyes as she reached for the hookah. At that moment he wanted more than anything in the world to tell her it wasn't always true, but he knew she would hate the lie. Instead he took out his own betel leaf and cleared his throat awkwardly.
"You've never told me how you came to be called Kali. Mukarrab Khan said that's not your real name."
She looked at him and her eyes became ice. "He's a truly vicious man. What did he say?"
"That you would tell me." He paused, bewildered. "Don't you want to?"
She wiped her eyes with a quick motion. "Why not? You may as well know. Before someone else tells you. But please try to understand I was very lonely. You can't know how lonely it becomes in the zenana. How you long for a man to touch you, just once. You can't imagine. After a while you become . . . sort of mad. It becomes your obsession. Can you understand? Even a little?"