Ishvari felt a sudden stab of envy for Sarahi’s freedom—the freedom enjoyed by the old aristocracy. The envoy and his wife could trace their bloodlines to Melukhha’s oldest families and many such ancient clans, as Ketaki had once mentioned, still practiced austerities to enhance their tantric practice. As Hariaksa had explained, once the fire reached the third eye, it was best not to ingest the flesh of animals that had died experiencing the agony of slaughter. As for Sarahi, Ishvari had met her just once, when the envoy had impulsively brought her along to their weekly meal. A pretty, slender woman with so sly a wit that Lord Kushal had ordered her to use it strictly within a circle of trusted friends, Sarahi had struck Ishvari as an original thinker, unafr...

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