The simple question caught Venkat off guard. All the secrets he’d been carrying alone sprang up, eager to pour out of him—the dreamsmithing, his project with Nayan, his failures over and over again to forge something that could help Tanvi. He hungered to share his burden, even with Asha. But of course he couldn’t.

“I’m drowning,” he said instead. “Juggling the runners, everything with the council, Tanvi. She wants her memories back now. How am I supposed to do that?”

He’d expected Asha to commiserate, but she tsked and tapped him on the head. “Oh, silly dream broker, forever overcomplicating things.” She extended her hand, one of her rings twisted around so the cluster of rubies sat there like a dreamstone. “Tell me, what will you give me for such a rare vision?”

A boon! Venkat could have kicked himself. “You’re amazing. Thank you.”

She treated him to a pretentious grin. “It is my task as future queen to be of service.”

His amusement faded at that, and he clasped her still-upturned hand. “You don’t have to do this, Asha. Getting married, I mean. It’s not too late to say no.”

“The entire kingdom will be in attendance, Venkat. Many of the guests are already here. Have you not been paying attention?” The set of Asha’s jaw was dignified, even stern, and she pulled free of his grasp. When she spoke again, it was a whisper. “I could not withdraw now if I wished to.”

“Do you?” Venkat moved closer. “Maybe I can’t help, but you can still talk to me, you know.”

Asha beheld him with the proud bearing of the monarch she would one day be. No trace of her earlier emotions showed. “Certainly not. This is my duty to all of you, and I do not shirk my duty.”

After a perfunctory knock, the attendant stuck her head inside the room. “I am afraid your time is up.”

“Thank you for the message, Venkat,” Asha said, all bright scales and sunshine once more. “Please convey my parents’ gratitude to Nayan Uncle.” Aiming a perky glance at the attendant, she pointed to her goblet. “Udita, would you be a dear and procure more jewel-lychee cordial for me? I find I have quite the thirst.”

Venkat took his cue and left.

“I would like to see you add more harmony throughout, a subtle yet pervasive sense of concord.” Nayan trailed his fingers down through the air. “Like the drifting of a leaf in the wind that, though unseen, bears it across an entire city.”

A week ago, Venkat would never have supposed making things from scratch could feel like a chore. It had always been his art, his secret joy. Now even his beloved beautiful workshop failed to lighten his mood.