Karna still could not believe he was seeing a real Rakshasa. It was often said that Man had conquered this realm by fighting against the Nagas, the Vanaras and the Rakshasas – the stronger, larger and faster races – by virtue of being blessed with sharper minds. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Men had achieved the feat by their sheer appetite for brutality. Man had conquered the new world in order to rule over all the other races, yet forgot to leave any space for them.

‘I can see a man churning kulfi!’ Sudama cried gleefully, pulling at Karna’s hand and dragging him relentlessly through the throng of Kings and Queens.

As they threaded their way through the tables, they came upon the crowning glory of the Fourth Order – an edible sculpture of the realm of Aryavrat. The rivers ran deep with some blue liquid that was being poured in by an Acharya standing beside the sculpture. Each major kingdom was represented by a crystallized gulab jamun with a sigil on its soft brown surface. The deserts to the West were adorned with brown jalebis, while the forestlands were packed with green sweetmeats made of pistachios and clarified butter. Yellow ladoos decorated the plains of the South, while dark green kalakand4 made up the forested Eastern Kingdom.

‘Uncle,’ Sudama said cautiously, ‘I think we should find another sweet table. There is no way we can eat from there without…’

‘Destroying the whole thing? Yes, I agree,’ Karna responded without hesitation. ‘I fear it is not for eating.’

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.