“You’ll call again, right?” Nitya’s expression had gone remote, but the hope in her voice tore at Tanvi. “And tell me more about Nagalok?”

“If you don’t tell Mom about me. I’m serious.” No way could she handle that.

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Then yes,” Tanvi said, and oddly enough, she meant it. “I promise, too.”

27

Venkat had had to monitor Asha’s schedule closely for two days before he managed to corner her. She’d been walled away behind a never-ending roster of wedding preparations, many of which didn’t even pretend to be anything more than a glamorous excuse to keep her under constant surveillance. He felt like the hero of one of Bharat’s video games, trying to dodge all the sentries, attendants, relatives, and even friends who’d been enlisted to sequester her and ensure her safety until after the wedding.

The guard barring the doors to Asha’s apartments, a nagini in the equivalent of her twenties, scowled at him. Her armor clinked as she changed position. “The princess is not taking unscheduled visitors.”

“I’m here on behalf of Lord Nayan,” Venkat said smoothly. “He wishes for me to look in on Her Highness during what must be an intensely stressful occasion for her.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie; Nayan had instructed him to be Asha’s support, hadn’t he?

“Then why did you not send a messenger earlier?” the guard asked. Judging from her dubious stare, she was going to report this to Madhu.

Let her. Venkat had his excuse: he was worried about his friend.

“You question Lord Nayan’s motivations?” He paused long enough for the accusation to register, then declared, “A quarter hour will be more than sufficient.”

“Fifteen minutes and not a moment more,” the guard snapped, “not even for Lord Nayan.”

Venkat rewarded her with his most charming smile. “You do us a kindness, indeed. Lord Nayan never forgets that.”

The guard’s dour face softened a degree, and she even inclined her helmeted head before unlocking the suite and gesturing to the attendant waiting there. “Fifteen minutes.”

“Her Highness can be found resting in her sitting room,” the attendant announced. “I will accompany you there, but mind you do not tax her strength.”

Venkat nodded and followed her.

Asha’s apartments were grand even by palatial standards, with their gilt-trimmed mosaic ceilings, ornate decorations, and gold-and-silver-worked fabrics in every shade of the gemstone spectrum, and Venkat had always enjoyed his visits here. Today, however, they felt like an endless warren, made worse by glimpses of ladies-in-waiting sorting through her clothes, organizing her jewelry, and other tasks as mysterious to him as dreamsmithing would be to them.

No wonder Asha relished her trips to Prithvi so much. They were the one time she could truly be alone.