But then, he supposed, reaching for the dreamstone vial containing a piece of bark from a shalabhanjika’s tree, he’d never forged as fast or as much as he had these past few days. The water in his well of inspiration, almost tangible in its strength, had run dry. All he could think of was getting Tanvi a boon to restore her memories.

How was he supposed to do that with the dream trade on hiatus and the runners no longer selling their wares?

“More harmony it is,” he said, uncorking the vial before the qualms could show on his face.

Nayan paused his stream of directions. “You seem out of sorts, my son. Is something amiss?”

Venkat forced a laugh. “I don’t know how you do it. This is exhausting, and I feel like I’ve barely slept all week.”

He didn’t add that, when he had, he’d dreamed of his grandmother and her gold elephant necklace, and he’d woken with tears drying on his cheeks.

Nayan offered him a sympathetic nod. “It is not easy, and I have asked a great deal of you these last few months. I do know this. But when we bring peace to our people, the strain will have been worth it.”

Nayan’s quiet conviction, steadfast and unshakable, had always been enough to carry Venkat along. Now, however, he needed more. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always.” Nayan patted his shoulder. “What is it?”

“Aren’t you worried? We don’t have much stock left to sell, and the runners are bored out of their minds.”

He steeled himself to hear that Madhu had reported Bharat in spite of her promise. Or that she’d complained again about Tanvi distracting Venkat from his true work.

Tanvi. The sensation of her hand suddenly enfolding his while the monarch butterflies feasted on their banquet of topaz tears, both shocking and warming him, surged through Venkat like the incoming tide, and he had to wrestle back a smile.

He couldn’t risk exposing her.

Nayan contemplated him for a moment. “Ah. You are young, Venkat, even in mortal terms. Though they may loom large to you, the gripes of a few overly privileged nobles are nothing to fear. Once Asha’s wedding is upon us, and our project complete, there will be no need for the dream trade. You know this.”

“What about the runners?” Venkat countered. “The nobles can wait, but what if they can’t?”

A note of irritation entered Nayan’s voice. “My son, I have been patient with you, but your insistence on continually internalizing the state of our vessels grows wearying. They are a means to an end, and your energy would be far better spent on our actual mission.”