It was nearly 6 a.m. and Devdutt hadn't read beyond the first page of his textbook. He was not prepared to take a test. To be honest, his mood and manners of late, made him appear prepared for little else in life; having spent most of it within the impregnable walls of the fortress. He was a clever young boy and could think on his feet, but he was never given the opportunity to prove his abilities, thanks to His Majesty's loving ways. Everything had to be fetched for the boy. He wasn't allowed to eat, sleep, play or even bathe without ample supervision. He was to be kept warm all the time and he was not to come in contact with anyone without the King's orders. Guru ji, along with everyone else who cared for him, were often asked to wash their hands and feet before picking up the boy from his silver cradle.
As a baby, Devdutt was a lot darker in colour than his parents. This made the King wonder if he'd grow up to look even half as pleasant as any of his kin. Devdutt had lovely features, but the colour of his skin bothered the King a lot. His mother, the Queen, was like a newly blossomed fragrant jasmine, white and pure and had taken the King's breath away at first sight. Devdutt's grandmother was a lean woman, not too tall, but had fair complexion and beautiful, almond-shaped eyes. Devdutt had inherited that from her and the King took comfort in seeing such features on his darling boy's face. The King would often ask the servants to bathe the boy in milk, to improve his complexion. He'd make trivial demands of the staff and scold them when he didn't see improvements.
Guru ji and Dai Ma had been opposed to the King's overcautious approach to raising the boy from the very beginning. They had made their objections known to the queen, who was no stranger to the virtues of self-sufficiency. She was the youngest of four children and the only girl in the family but was raised like a boy. Having lost her mother at birth, she was always in the company of boys. Her father and brothers treated her less like a delicate little flower from the royal garden and more like a young soldier awaiting training and toughening up.
Her days were always spent in training with her brothers at the palace's gymnasium. And she disliked every bit of it. Physical training, horse-riding, martial arts and various other kinds of combat lessons took up most parts of the day, leaving her very little time to groom herself to appear more princess-like. When she was younger, she had wanted to participate in everything her brothers did. Her brothers loved her and would take her on their every expedition outside the Kingdom. When they went riding into the woods, she'd sit behind her oldest brother and hold him tight. She was their pet and they wouldn't let her out of their sight for a single moment.
As she grew older, her interests had moved from combat to caring for her soft looks. Like most young girls her age, she now preferred spending her days trying out pieces of jewellery from her mother's vast collection. She loved her long, dark, silken hair and would spend hours in front of the large, ornate mirror in her chamber, braiding it differently, adorning it with jewellery and flowers. Her intricately embroidered skirts and blouses and her fair complexion had begun to demand more attention than the unflattering combat clothes, footwear, heavy armour, and accessories. She no longer desired to run across open fields in scorching heat and stab shoddy looking dummies propped up on sticks. Most importantly, she no longer desired to come back home weary and covered in dirt, after a day's lessons in the sand pit. Her hair would look dull and matted, her face sweaty and dark, her nails and hands dirty and full of cuts and bruises from handling the weapons incorrectly.
She was blossoming into a beautiful young woman. At the age of twelve, she had grown as tall as her third brother and could match his physical strength in sword fights. Her older brothers would often tease the youngest for failing to overpower her despite the obvious differences. On those days, she'd forget all about her desire to dress and appear more feminine. But on most days, she would wake up without the will to run, jump, ride and wrestle like the boys. She had stopped taking her lessons seriously and had questioned the need for them until the day she had had a brush with danger.
The queen's support had meant a lot to Guru ji and Dai ma, who pampered Devdutt just enough to remind and reward him of his birth but not as much as to render him feeble and unfit to function on his own. As the prince of Makrai, Devdutt was treated like royalty only to keep up appearances but outside of the plain sight of a plebeian audience, Guru ji and Dai Ma wouldn't let him be waited on hand and foot. Devdutt was their beloved child and they treasured his every breath as the only heir to the throne of Makrai, but they wanted the boy to be able to live without anyone's assistance.
When the king's decision of sending Devdutt away was made public, Makrai's courtiers, loyal servants and well-wishers were shocked and distressed, but Devdutt's circle of guardians weren't the least bit shaken. They had prepared him for eventualities, and they had faith in their charge. When Devdutt left for school, they were proud of what he had become under their watchful eyes. Like the young Banyan that had grabbed hold of the earth beneath it and was steadily shooting up towards the sun, he had grown tall, lean and physically strong. His state of mind was their only cause for concern, but they were confident that he could survive any kind of adversity, despite the obvious handicap - of him attending an all-white school.
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Hint: The action of raising or caring for offspring