The palace chefs had prepared Venkat’s favorite foods: crispy masala dosa, pongal garnished with ghee, pillowy idli, and steaming sambar. Though obviously not like the Prithvi equivalent, it all looked and smelled fantastic, a rich combination of spices and hues and textures to rival any feast he’d extracted from a dream. But Venkat didn’t want to waste another minute. “I’m not really hungry.”

He’d forgotten who he was talking to. Madhu cocked her head at him, the wrinkles deepening around her severe gold-brown stare. “Enjoy,” she repeated.

“How often do we have the chance to break our fast together?” Nayan put in.

Never, Venkat said silently. That was exactly what worried him.

He tore off a piece of the masala dosa and dipped the bite into a dish of jewel-coconut chutney. It was tangy and savory, and the fresh idli was spongy enough to sleep on, but the entire meal might as well have been unseasoned khichdi. All he could taste was dread. Had Madhu seen? Did Nayan already know?

While Madhu hovered, eager to swoop in with more food, Nayan recounted his conversations from the night before. Venkat only half listened until he heard a familiar name. “Asha will need to be vigilant. Chintan’s friends leave much to be desired.” Nayan’s baritone laugh rang through the chamber. “Would you believe that scoundrel Karan imagined he might ingratiate himself with me by alluding to his friendship with the prince?”

Madhu snorted. “I do believe it.”

Venkat coughed hard and gulped the cool jewel-fig water. “What did you say to him?” he choked out between spasms.

Nayan’s tone grew sharp. “I suggested he tread with care when trading on authority not his to claim.”

Madhu smiled, and that simple but predatory twist of her lips left Venkat’s palms damp with sweat. Anyone who thought she was a harmless old grandmother deserved what came to them. “Indeed.”

He’d never had any illusions about what it took to hold down an office like Nayan’s, with all the upstarts and opportunists and people blatantly out to wrest some power for themselves, but it was rare that he saw this side of it. Nayan really did keep him shielded. And Venkat didn’t want to be on the receiving end of anything like that.

Which was why he had to speak up.

He shoveled more food into his mouth while doing his best not to think about Jai or Tanvi. With Madhu monitoring him, however, the last thing Venkat wanted to do was eat. It was hard enough not to fidget. Under the table, where no one could see, he tapped out a rhythm on his leg.

Nayan swallowed the last of his dosa and wiped his fingers on the napkin Madhu offered him. He turned an inquiring gaze on Venkat. “Would you like anything else?”

Venkat’s cup clattered on the table in his haste to put it down. “No, I’m done.”