‘Do not distract me. Pray answer!’ she pleaded.

He had foreseen this the moment he himself had set eyes on Karna. He had of course, heard tall tales of his skill with the bow. He knew Karna’s weakness lay in Resht politics and his obsession with becoming the best archer. But nothing had prepared Krishna for how handsome he was even though he had been fair-skinned.

‘Well,’ he began, ‘it is so that men who call them inferior can feel superior.’ Krishna rose from his seat, suddenly restless. ‘Reshts are as pious as Namins; as hard working as Ksharjas. They have their own important role in the system we have in place, and are supposed to be accorded the respect due their station. But Reshts suffer from a curse for which there is no reprieve: they are poor; made deliberately so by the oppression of Ksharjas and Namins over the centuries.’

Draupadi was listening raptly. ‘Unfortunate souls,’ she uttered sadly, quite unable to imagine the gallant Karna as poor or unfortunate.

‘That is where men like Karna come in. He is a crusader, fighting for the rights of the Reshts; fighting the world, all alone.’

Krishna was sure by now that Draupadi was thoroughly enamoured with the Resht; a vigilante fighting against the oppression of the ages. Karna sounded like a hero. But that was the thing about heroes. They died.

As if on cue, a putrid smell filled the room, making Draupadi gag. She hastened to the basin filled with jasmine water, and sprinkled some on her face.

Storm is finally here. ‘I see Lord Karna has thoroughly charmed you,’ he said. ‘I do see in you the resilience you would need if you were to wed him. I think you should choose him if it comes to it.’

‘I should?’ Draupadi asked, confused. ‘Choose a Resht? Is that even possible?’

‘Why does the Princess of Panchal need to spare a care about hardships? Imagine your life as the spouse of a revolutionary, Draupadi,’ Krishna offered. ‘It will be the stuff of legends.’

‘Like Ram and Sita?’

‘Better, I daresay. Like Sita, you will spend most of your life in thatched huts, cooking on dung fires. But true love can turn anything fragrant. You will, of course, have to wait to draw water from the well, for the higher caste women draw water first, but what of it? His good mother and you could take turns. Afterall, you will be sharing the same space and she will be your new mother, considering the Queen would never be allowed to visit you. But that is the charm of young love – it conquers all.’

‘Surely it will be different if the Resht is a Highmaster?’