“Shubh Navratri, beloved citizens of Bhogavati,” King Vasuki began, his cobra-hood corona framing him like a halo. “Here we find ourselves again, giving thanks for another fruitful turn of the cosmic wheel.”

The speech continued, and Venkat knew he should be listening, but Karan’s insinuation had gotten to him. Why would Asha be called away now? Had something happened?

Only when the nagas around him traded surprised stares did Venkat snap back to the present. “I do not need to tell you,” King Vasuki said, “that our beleaguered realm has long been in need of glad tidings, and on this first night of sacred celebrations, it is my distinct privilege to deliver them to you.”

Glad tidings? Worry sparked in Venkat again. He could feel Karan studying him, so he smiled as if this pronouncement were exactly what he’d been waiting for.

Nayan appeared behind the balustrade, his head bowed, and knelt before the nagarani’s throne.

What was he doing there? Venkat couldn’t help feeling doubly betrayed. Nayan hadn’t mentioned any announcement, and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t had the opportunity.

“If the garudas seek to sow division among us with their assaults, then it is up to us to find ways to reunite,” Queen Naga Yakshi said, her soft voice as mysterious as the words it spoke. She signaled to Nayan. “Rise, Lord Nayan, and tell them of your triumph.”

What triumph? Venkat felt like the parrots on his clothes, repeating the words of others without understanding them.

Nayan stood, his palms pressed together before his face. A breeze blew back his black hair, and his smile was remote as his eyes raked the crowd below. He looked every inch the member of the royal family he was.

“Indeed,” he said, his gaze stopping briefly on Venkat’s, “it is my pleasure to have brought about the circumstances of those glad tidings.” Then he waved someone forward from the wings. Chintu and an older naga Venkat thought might be his uncle came to stand on King Vasuki’s right. “Many of you know that Prince Chintan of the clan of Anant Shesha has stayed among us as ambassador these last two years. It seems he has agreed to extend his tenure, for . . .”

Asha sauntered into view from the left, dressed in a sapphire-and-emerald silk choli worked through with gold. Her hair had been gathered in a loose bun studded with gemstone lotuses. Her parents followed her, all exultant smiles.

“Ah, Princess Asha,” said Nayan with another bow, “right on time.”

Venkat’s mouth grew dry with dread. Good news that included both Chintu and Asha? Asha, who couldn’t wait to be rid of the annoying prince just the other morning?