But they were not disappointed for long. Next to the Aryavrat sculpture was a more proletarian sweets section with a board that read: Sixth Gourmet Sigh. There were gulab jamuns topped with dried nuts encased in shells of gold leaf that could be eaten, jalebis painstakingly assembled with honey paste into the shape of stags, a whole herd of them, with raisins for hooves. There were ripe water-melons, their green heads cracked open to reveal the coral flesh inside, every black seed having been meticulously extracted. Every exposed surface bore the Panchal sigil – the Stag.

Sudama took a saffron-flavoured pot of cold kulfi while Karna helped himself to halwa, the carrot-based pudding which was a recent invention of the Fourth Order. ‘Get me a kulfi too,’ Karna called after Sudama, grinning, as the boy hurried off to try another flavour. Karma had forgotten all about his queasiness, as well as the fact that he was supposed to be royalty attending a stately dinner.

From the corner of his eye, he spied a handsome man walking towards him with an intent stare. His angular features and the erased caste sign on his neck bespoke his Mathuran blood. Curiously, he wore a long peacock feather in an ornate silver band around his forehead. Karna did not trust this man one bit. The last King who had, had died by his hand.

KRISHNA approached Karna, a bowl of grapes in his hand. A faint smile hovered on his lips; the sort of smile one might see on a crocodile that has spied a particularly bold swimmer. Storm was right beside him, almost unrecognizable in a Balkhan dress coupled with a short jacket. It was form fitting from bust to waist, with a flowing skirt below. A sash was draped over her right shoulder, held fast with an army of pins. To a stranger, Storm might have looked elegant. To anyone who knew her, it was downright comical.

‘Lady Storm, may I introduce you to Lord Karna of Hastinapur, Highmaster of Anga? His reputation with a bow precedes him.’

‘My Lord honours me.’ Karna blushed at Krishna’s compliment, but turned to Storm and bowed awkwardly.

Storm scowled till she remembered Krishna’s instructions. ‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Karna.’ She did not bow. She probably could not. Calm’s heavings on the strings of her corset gave her little choice. She could, however, have blushed as Krishna had taught her, or inquired about Karna’s well-being. She did not. All those classes tossed aside, she dragged Krishna by the elbow to one side. ‘Can you please dismiss me? My lungs have emptied out! I cannot breathe in this damn fucking corset!’

‘Unless it is cutting you in half, it isn’t doing the job.’

‘But I am not able to eat what I want!’

‘Eat? Storm, do you see any other woman eating anything here? You are moving in royal circles, and royal women do not eat in public. It makes them look human, and mystique is in fashion right now.’