“What sort of apple?” demanded the nagini with the copperhead tail. “Sweet? Tart? Crunchy or soft? We must have every detail.”

“I will do my best.”

Asha scoffed. “While the rest of you might well be content with dream desserts, I find myself peckish once more. It is grueling work, entertaining before one’s own nuptials.” She flipped her gleaming black locks over one shoulder. “While you tell them,” she told Chintu, “I will find a snack.”

He nodded, already deep into a description of his first succulent bite. “Such a flaky, buttery crust . . .”

On any other day, Venkat would be taking careful notes on Chintu’s experience of the dream. Not now, though. Not when he couldn’t stop picturing Tanvi among the trees. She needed help.

“Come,” Asha ordered, gripping Venkat’s elbow. “I need food, and you will help me find it.”

Then they were off, speeding as only a naga could. Even with Asha’s magic carrying him along, Venkat’s body vibrated like a car whose speedometer had gone into the red.

Ignoring the passersby calling her name, Asha rushed Venkat toward the carved golden double doors of the palace’s courtyard entrance. The familiar medallion with the device of the nagaraja and nagarani, tails corkscrewed around each other, greeted him from the center of each door before Asha led him through the scalloped archway and into the palace. She scarcely acknowledged any of the guards they surged past, only stopping when the two of them stood alone before one of the many benches dotting the pearl-and-emerald hallway. “This is not good, Venkat. You must find her.”

He fought to catch his breath. “I know,” he said at last. “What are we going to do?”

Asha pursed her lips. “I will do my best to shield her.” With a quiet sigh unlike the ones she put on for show, she murmured, “I do wish Chintu would choose his alliances more carefully.”

“We all should,” Venkat agreed. When Asha didn’t reply, he added, “What about you, Princess? Are you okay?”

“Why would I not be?” Her wan smile might as well have been propped up on stilts, but her chin lifted in its usual defiance. “We have no time for your silliness. Go now and find her.”

He didn’t have a chance to answer before she undulated away, the diamonds in her hair sparking under the elaborate sconces like extensions of her fury. She looked like the queen she’d one day become—Venkat had no doubt who the true ruler in that marriage would be—but he wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing.

Karan leered in his thoughts as Venkat hastened toward the runners’ quarters. Well, Asha would certainly be better than that. She was right; Chintu had terrible taste in friends.

The future would have to take care of itself. For now, Venkat had to find Tanvi.

13