As the venerable chief priest arrived, King Daśaratha rose from his throne to greet him with respect. After seeking his counsel, the king joyfully informed him that all preparations for the great event had been completed. Seeing the chief priest—his equal in wisdom and honor—enter, the assembled nobles and elders also stood to pay him homage. With his guru’s permission, King Daśaratha then left behind the gathered multitude and entered his inner chambers, moving with the majestic assurance of a lion entering the shelter of a mountain cave. Within the palace, which was crowded with women adorned in splendid garments and glittering with beauty, resembling the very mansion of Indra, the king entered. He shone amidst them like the moon rising into a night sky filled with radiant stars. Meanwhile, after the chief priest’s departure, Rāma, his mind calm and self-disciplined, bathed and, together with his wide-eyed wife Sītā, approached the sacred presence of Nārāyaṇa. With reverence, he took up the vessel of oblation, and following the prescribed rites, offered clarified butter into the blazing fire for the great deity. Afterward, he partook of the blessed remains of the offering, and, desiring his own welfare, sat upon a seat covered with sacred grass, meditating deeply upon Lord Nārāyaṇa. As the night waned and only one watch remained before dawn, Rāma awoke and saw to it that his house was thoroughly adorned in accordance with tradition. Seated for early morning worship, he listened to the melodious praises of bards, genealogists, and panegyrists, and recited his prayers with unwavering focus. Bowing his head in devotion to Madhusūdana, clothed in pure linen, he had the Brāhmaṇas recite the Vedas. Their deep, auspicious chanting, mingled with the sweet music of instruments, filled Ayodhyā with joy. News soon spread that Rāma and Sītā had completed their sacred fast, and all the people of Ayodhyā rejoiced. With the night ended and word of Rāma’s impending consecration circulating, the townspeople set about decorating the city. Temples gleamed like white cloud-peaks, crossroads and streets, shrines and balconies—all were festooned with flowers and banners. The shops of prosperous merchants, filled with every kind of good, and the splendid homes of householders were similarly adorned. Flags and banners fluttered from assembly halls and even from unmarked trees. The city rang with delightful performances as troupes of actors, dancers, and singers entertained the people. Everywhere—in the squares and in their homes—people spoke of nothing but Rāma’s consecration, eagerly awaiting the hour of his anointing. Even the children, playing in groups at their doorways, chattered excitedly about Rāma’s upcoming installation. The royal road was made resplendent, strewn with flowers and fragrant with incense, prepared by the citizens for Rāma’s procession. Lamp-bearing trees were set up along the side streets, casting a gentle light to dispel the night’s darkness. Having thus adorned their city, the people of Ayodhyā waited in eager anticipation for Rāma’s installation as crown prince. Gathered in groups in the squares and halls, they spoke joyfully among themselves, praising their beloved lord. They said, “Ah, the great-souled king, the joy of the Ikṣvāku line, recognizing his own age, will anoint Rāma as king. Truly, we are blessed, for Rāma—wise in the ways of the world—will be our protector for many years to come. Rāghava, free from arrogance, learned and righteous, loving toward his brothers, is as affectionate to us as he is to them. Long may the blameless King Daśaratha live, for by his favor we shall witness Rāma’s anointing.” As the citizens spoke thus, people from the countryside, having heard the joyous news from every direction, streamed into the city. They came in great numbers, eager to witness Rāma’s consecration, and soon Ayodhyā was filled to overflowing. The crowds spread everywhere, and a mighty sound arose—like the roaring ocean at the time of the full moon. Ayodhyā, resembling Indra’s own celestial city, shone brilliantly, thronged on all sides by the eager and jubilant multitudes. At this time, a maidservant named Mantharā, who had long lived with Queen Kaikeyī, happened by chance to ascend a palace that shone like the moon. From her vantage, she gazed down upon Ayodhyā, its royal roads sprinkled and strewn with lotuses and water-lilies. She saw the city adorned with splendid banners and flags, fragrant with sandalwood water, and filled with people whose hair was still wet from ritual baths. The air resounded with the voices of distinguished Brāhmaṇas bearing garlands and sweets, the white doorways of temples gleaming, and the sound of all manner of musical instruments filling the streets. Elephants and horses, splendid and delighted, mingled with the bellowing of excited bulls and cows, and the whole city was alive with joy and celebration. Struck with astonishment at the sight of Ayodhyā so beautifully adorned and its citizens so elated, Mantharā wondered, “Absorbed in the highest joy and intent on gain, what great wealth is Queen Kaikeyī, Rāma’s mother, distributing to the people?