Sumanta, the illustrious charioteer, beheld the chief ministers—splendidly adorned and surrounded by horses, chariots, and elephants—all dear to Rāma. Passing through their midst from every direction, Sumanta entered the prosperous inner palace. Unstoppable in his purpose, he pressed on into a grand mansion, vast and resplendent like a mountain peak, its halls filled with treasures, entering as a makara would slip into the ocean’s depths. Crossing the palace entrance, bustling with people, Sumanta made his way to a secluded chamber, his movements guided by knowledge of ancient customs. There, vigilant young men stood guard, swords and bows in hand, their polished earrings gleaming, their loyalty to their master unwavering. Nearby, elderly men in saffron robes, staff in hand, stood at the door, while composed women’s overseers watched attentively. As Sumanta approached, all those eager to please Rāma rose swiftly from their seats, honoring him with reverence. Circling them with humility, Sumanta’s son respectfully announced, “Quickly inform Rāma that Sumanta waits at the door.” Eager to obey, they promptly conveyed the message to Rāma and his wife. Upon hearing the report, Rāghava, ever gracious, summoned the charioteer into his father’s inner chamber. There, Sumanta beheld Rāma, radiant as Kubera himself, seated upon a golden couch beneath a splendid canopy. Rāma, the scourge of his foes, was anointed with fragrant sandalwood paste, deep in hue and of the highest quality. By his side stood Sītā, holding a yak-tail fan, adorned and resplendent—like the moon attended by a beautiful star. With devotion and humility, the bard bowed before Rāma, who shone with his own brilliance, like the blazing sun, bestower of blessings. Honored by the king, Sumanta joined his palms and addressed the prince, whose face was bright with radiance as he reclined in ease: “O Rāma, son of Kausalyā, your father wishes to see you. Go there without delay, along with Queen Kaikeyī.” Hearing these words, Rāma, radiant and delighted, honored Sītā and spoke to her: “Devi, the king and queen are surely conferring together in my absence, discussing matters related to the consecration. My mother, the daughter of the king of Kekaya, ever devoted to my welfare, also desires my prosperity. By good fortune, the great king, together with his beloved queen, has sent Sumanta as a messenger, eager to fulfill my wishes. As the assembly is distinguished, so too is the messenger who has come; surely, today itself, the king will anoint me as crown prince. Well then, I shall go quickly and see the king. You remain here happily with your attendants and enjoy yourself.” Sītā, honored by her husband, followed him to the door, her dark eyes shining, uttering auspicious words. She said, “The king, worthy to perform the royal consecration, surrounded by Brahmins, is fit to install you, just as the creator installed Indra. Seeing you, consecrated and observing vows, pure, clad in splendid deer skin and holding a deer’s horn, I rejoice. May Indra protect you in the east, Yama in the south, Varuṇa in the west, and Kubera in the north.” Having taken leave of Sītā, who had performed auspicious rites, Rāma departed from his residence with Sumanta. Emerging like a lion from his cave, he saw Lakṣmaṇa at the door, standing with joined palms in reverence. As Rāma made his way through the middle chamber, surrounded by friends, he greeted and welcomed all the petitioners gathered there. The tiger among men, delight of the king, then ascended the splendid chariot, radiant as fire. The chariot thundered like a cloud, adorned with jewels and gold, its brilliance rivaling Mount Meru and dazzling to behold. Drawn by excellent horses, green in hue and swift as the wind, resembling young elephants, it was like Indra’s own chariot driven by the thousand-eyed god. Rāghava, ablaze with splendor, mounted swiftly and departed, his chariot resounding like a rain cloud in the sky. The illustrious prince left his residence like the moon emerging from great clouds, attended by Lakṣmaṇa, who held a decorated fan. Lakṣmaṇa, having mounted behind, protected his brother, and a tumultuous sound arose. As Rāma departed, crowds gathered all around; mighty horses and elephants, massive as mountains, followed in his wake. Hundreds and thousands of people trailed after Rāma, while warriors adorned with sandalwood and aloe marched ahead. Brave men bearing swords and bows advanced, filled with hope, as the sounds of instruments and the praises of bards rose up. Lion-like roars of heroes echoed along the road, and women, adorned and standing at palace windows, watched in admiration. As Rāma, the destroyer of foes, proceeded, women showered him with abundant flowers, delighting in his flawless form and noble presence.