“No. It won’t.” Luntok’s voice rang out with surprising force, reverberating across the hollow walls of the veranda.

“And why not?” Gulod asked, watching Luntok with beady eyes. He stared at the younger man, for once intrigued by what he had to say.

“The servants’ entrance is too far from the great hall,” Luntok explained, exasperated. “There will be dozens of people flooding in and out. Unless, of course, we have the numbers to subdue them all⁠—otherwise, we’ll be caught in seconds.”

After Luntok’s interjection, they sat in silence for a brief moment. A quiet breeze broke the thick night air, rustling through the canopy of palms that shielded them from view.

Imeria cast him a curious glance. Something burned behind the dark film over his eyes, a thirst she had never seen in him before. “What would you suggest, then?” she asked.

“We ought to maintain the element of surprise as long as possible. It is our biggest advantage.” Luntok leaned over the table, the muscles in his cheeks pulled taut. He knew something⁠—something they could use to their advantage⁠—but why wasn’t he sharing it?

“Datu Kulaw could take out the guards posted on the outer wall. Then we could climb the gates,” Vikal said tentatively, even though they all knew it was a terrible idea.

“No. We absolutely are not doing that.” Roughly, Luntok brushed his hair away from his face. He reached for Imeria’s wineglass and swallowed its contents in a single gulp. Then he turned toward his mother, his brow furrowed in turmoil.

Ah. She understood now; this was about Laya.

Luntok knew that if he betrayed Laya’s family, he risked losing her love forever. Imeria had made her choice long before. As for her son⁠—maybe he’d convinced himself there was a path to Laya that didn’t begin with treachery. Luntok may have coveted the throne⁠—and the right to kingship of which the Gatdulas had robbed him⁠—but Laya was the only prize he’d ever wanted.

Imeria yearned to reach out and calm the warring thoughts in his head. Instead, she prodded him. “Tell us, Son. What do you mean?”

“No one is climbing the walls.” Luntok kept his lips tight, as if to seal himself from the storm waging inside him. Imeria’s heart rate quickened as she watched the thoughts settle in his eyes. Finally, Luntok understood. Fate had only ever given him one path. Now was his chance to carve it straight to the throne, to justice for the south, to the princess who belonged to him. Laya had been his tipping point, the sole force strong enough to blow him over the razor’s edge. Having her was the one battle he couldn’t bear to lose.