Rich People Problems-Kwan 2017 (WWT)

known as Jai Pol, the Gate of Victory. Soon they were strolling hand in hand through the
interconnected network of palaces and museums that made up the fort complex,
marveling at the intricately carved walls and expansive courtyards that afforded
commanding views of the city.
“This is incredible,” Astrid said in a hushed voice as they entered an elaborate chamber
where the walls and ceilings were made entirely of mirrored glass mosaic tiles.
“Well, they don’t call this the most beautiful fort in Rajasthan for nothing,” Charlie
said.
As they strolled through a reception hall where every surface—from the walls to the
ceilings to the floors—was painted in dizzyingly colorful floral patterns, Astrid couldn’t
help but comment, “It’s so empty. Where are all the tourists?”
“The fort’s actually closed today, but Shivraj had the place opened just for us.”
“How sweet of him. So this fort belongs to his family?”
“Since the fifteenth century. It’s one of the only forts in India that’s still controlled by
the original ruling family that built it.”
“Am I going to get the chance to thank Shivraj in person?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you—we’ve been invited to the private residence at Umaid Bhawan
for dinner tonight with his family.”
“Great. I wonder if they are related to the Singhs—you know, Gayatri Singh, our family
friend who throws those fabulous parties where she displays all her jewels? Her father
was a maharaja of one of the Indian states…though I can’t recall which one at the
moment.”
“Maybe. I think many of the royal families of India intermarried,” Charlie replied a
little distractedly.
“Are you okay?” Astrid asked, noticing his change of mood.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. There’s this amazing room that I’m trying to find for you—I know
you’ll love it. I think it’s up these stairs.” Charlie led her up a steep staircase that wound
around in a teardrop shape, and at the top of the stairwell they arrived at a long narrow
room flanked by arched windows along every wall. In the middle of the room was a
collection of golden baby cradles, each more ornate than the other.
“Is this the nursery?” Astrid asked.
“No, this is actually part of the zenana, where the ladies of the palace were cloistered.
This building is called the Peeping Palace, because the ladies would come here and peep
down on the activities of the courtyard below.”
“Oh, that’s right. The royal wives and concubines could never be seen by the public,
could they?” Astrid leaned out a window framed by a distinctive Bengali-style eave,
peeking through the little star-patterned holes in the screened window. Then she opened
the shutters completely, taking in the view below of the grand marbled courtyard
surrounded on three sides by palace balconies.
“Hey, do you want to get your hands painted with henna?” Charlie asked.