“Perhaps we should table this for now,” Nayan suggested, “and revisit it after the wedding. You may even find your new responsibilities leave you no time for this old role.”

If he weren’t also a naga, Asha’s glare would have poisoned him as surely as her bite. “You would take this from me, too?”

Her mother hissed, long and menacing, her slit-pupil eyes ablaze. “Enough. You will come with us now and attend the remainder of your fittings and consultations. Each and every one.”

Even Asha, who Venkat had never seen back down from anyone, dropped her gaze.

“Don’t worry,” he said as cheerily as he could. “I’ll take care of the runners.”

Her parents joined their palms in acknowledgment to Nayan, then ushered her out. The archives, with its many shelves of books and dreamstone vials, seemed to balloon in their wake, and Tanvi made a forlorn figure against its backdrop.

“You can’t punish her,” Venkat said as soon as the doors had closed again. Tanvi picked at her wrist like she was grabbing for something he couldn’t see. Her bracelet.

The guilt gnawed at him. Even if she wasn’t burning out, this addictive behavior was Jai all over again. And Venkat had made it worse each time he’d reinforced her need to earn boons.

Nayan regarded Madhu’s smug grin with impatience. “You must control your temper in public, old mother.” She muttered an apology. “Go now and call an emergency meeting of the council. Their Majesties must be apprised of the situation.”

“As you wish,” Madhu said, and left.

Nayan took so long to speak again that Venkat wondered if he’d have to repeat himself. “Whom should I not punish?” Nayan asked at last.

“Either of them!”

Nayan turned a contemplative expression on him. “Your compassion is what sets you apart. Without it, your dreamsmithing would suffer. Yet with it, you suffer. A conundrum.”

He plucked the quill from the inkwell on the desk and twirled it around. Unlike Chintu, he didn’t spill a single drop of the golden ink. “Think of it not as a punishment but as a correction. Asha must learn that there are greater things than her own desires. She represents not only herself but also the people of Nagalok.”

“But what if she doesn’t want to?”

“Few of us choose our duty,” Nayan said coolly. “It is instead chosen for us.”

Venkat wanted to keep arguing. That wasn’t fair at all. But Tanvi needed him, so he changed the subject. “I have a request.”

“Ask, my son, and perhaps I may even grant it.”

Venkat motioned to Tanvi, who startled, her lips parting.

“So do not punish this one?” Nayan half smiled. “Interesting. Go on.”