At the auspicious moment, the new Laureate of Art was brought to the dais in a palanquin decked with white flowers. Mallika, with loving attention, helped her alight from the palanquin and escorted her to the seat of honour reserved for the Court Dancer. For this occasion, Mallika had dressed and decorated her successor with her own hands. The face of the successor was hidden behind a veil of strings of pearls. The people, with intense curiosity, were waiting for the ceremony to end, so that they might have a glimpse of the new Laureate of Art.

A Brahmin priest, reciting couplets from the Vedas, placed before Mallika a platter with portions of raw rice, sandalwood, a few blades of grass, and ceremonial rouge made from saffron and herbs. Devi Mallika, with the third finger of her right hand, anointed the forehead of her successor, whose face was still hidden behind the veil of pearls.

The sound of conch shells, kettledrums, trumpets and flutes reached a crescendo. Members of the gentry rose from their seats and, one by one, placed gift offerings on the dais for their first glimpse of the new Chief Courtesan.

After anointing her forehead, Devi Mallika knelt down and in homage touched her own head to the feet of her successor. The impatient crowd began to clamour for a glimpse of the new Laureate of Art.

At a sign from Mallika, the herald blew his conch shell. A hush fell on all sides. Mallika parted the veil of pearl strings and thus revealed to the audience the face of her successor. Facing the congregation, Mallika went down again on her knees and bowed her head in obeisance. Holding their breaths, people looked on at the new light of the town.

The silence had lasted for a few seconds, when a low murmur began to be heard from the side where the nobility was sitting.

‘Divya! The great-granddaughter of the Chief Justice! Divya! A Brahmin girl! The granddaughter of Vishnu Sharma! Divya! A high-born girl! A Brahmin girl!’

Hearing the noise, Mallika raised her head and noticed the agitated confusion that had set in among the members of the nobility and the high-caste families. In a moment, a shout was heard:

‘A Brahmin girl cannot be allowed, in Madra, to become a courtesan, a mere object of pleasure and entertainment for the people. She cannot be allowed to disgrace the caste religion!’

It was the voice of Acharya Bhrigu Sharma, who stood with his arm upraised, trembling with rage.

Like a thunderclap in a valley surrounded by high mountains, his loud protest began to echo and re-echo on all sides. In the ranks of the nobility, several swords had been drawn and were being flourished above the heads of the audience. Soon after, many more swords flashed in the sunlight.

Devi Mallika stood speechless, as though petrified by the rising tumult that surrounded her.

Divya sat silent, her head bowed.

Then Divya got up from her seat and walking calmly with measured steps, went to one side of the dais and stood before the audience. She raised her hand, indicating to the people to be silent. The tumult subsided abruptly.