“Yes,” Venkat said, his heart warming. “For you.”

The man smiled, his joy as brilliant as the heliodor vial he now held. “Many thanks to you, apprentice to Lord Nayan. May the gods bless your generosity.”

After that, Venkat dispensed the rest of the dreamstones as randomly as he could—a toddler, a woman amidst a large group of friends, a girl swaying along with her father.

Their wide eyes and elated exclamations told him everything: his grandmother had been right.

The whole palace, from servants all the way to the highest ranks of the monarchy’s advisors and kin, stood in attendance in the manicured gardens, which boasted a wealth of plants and flowers guaranteed to dazzle any mortal horticulturist. Venkat’s mother would have exploded from pure happiness at the incredible spectrum of colors, the alternately frilly and jagged shapes of the blue and green leaves, the vines that hung like streamers with blossoms of glowing suns and moons and ringing bells. The ever-present intoxicating perfume of champak and jasmine wafted over the gathering like an olfactory dream.

But if anyone else noticed, Venkat couldn’t tell. He was an island in a shimmering sea of scales. All around him, gorgeous yet grim faces tilted up toward the royal balcony, where two massive green-and-black thrones, each with a seven-headed cobra corona, awaited their occupants. Rumors about the attempted invasions floated above him, an ominous cloud, and no one, not even Asha’s gleefully gossiping friends, could ignore the somber presence of the guards.

A court messenger wove his way through the onlookers to Asha’s side. “Princess, you must come with me now. Your parents require your assistance.”

“More diplomatic duties?” Asha released one of her trademark sighs. “I suppose it cannot be helped.” She strutted away, leaving the messenger to scurry after her and Venkat to make small talk with her friends.

They moved closer, their brown-gold eyes kindling with interest. Venkat recognized Chintu’s friend Karan among them and swore he would get back at Asha later. “What is this?” Karan asked, gloating. “Or did she not tell you, her dear friend?”

Bansuris sounded, their haunting tones saving Venkat from having to do anything but smile politely. He hadn’t known Asha had been doing any diplomatic work, aside from entertaining Chintu. Not that he’d let on to Karan, of course.

Clad in fabrics so fine they rivaled Lord Surya himself for incandescence, King Vasuki and Queen Naga Yakshi settled onto their thrones. In fact, the raja of the nagas looked to have been gifted a full day’s worth of the sun’s rays made cloth, while his rani wore a winter’s measure of moonlight in the form of a silver sari. Ornate, gem-studded gold crowns sat heavy on both their heads, a perfect match for the lavish jewelry glittering on their necks and fingers and wrists. The plainest of their rings put the bangles Venkat had seen earlier to shame.