A jolt of excitement wound through Duja. She swept over to the edge of the table and leaned over the tray. The precioso lay in a dozen crystal bars of varying lengths, the smallest no bigger than her thumb and the largest measuring from the tip of her pointer finger to her wrist. The bars were as clear as glass. Duja marveled at how the light changed as it skated across their smooth edges and jagged tips.

“I didn’t know a drug could be this beautiful,” she said, resisting the urge to run her fingers over the bars’ surfaces.

“Precioso doesn’t always look like this. It’s rare for one to produce a sample of such pure quality,” Ariel said. Duja thought she heard a faint note of pride in his voice.

“Well, then. I shall consider myself lucky to have one of the best precioso makers under my employ,” Duja said as she appraised the Orfelian. Her brother was blessed to have found him. Ariel must have spent a great deal of time with Pangil. It made her curious. “You’ve been in my brother’s company. Is he well? Truly?” she asked.

Is my brother a better man? Duja yearned to know, but she didn’t dare ask Ariel that.

“The precioso has aided him. He lives without pain, healthier than many men his age. His tremors don’t trouble him as they used to. He can wield his powers without endangering himself and those around him. But I have warned him regarding overuse, as I’ve warned you, Your Majesty,” Ariel said. He never gave a dishonest answer. Duja liked that about him.

“I know, and I promise to heed your warnings,” Duja said, nodding. At least once a day, her husband continued to caution her about precioso, citing grim anecdotes from his research. Both he and Ariel made it abundantly clear that precioso was not the answer to all her prayers. Duja wasn’t looking for one. If she could control her powers for a few more years, she’d have enough time⁠—time to prepare Laya for her duties. Time to iron out any misgivings the court held about her daughter’s rule.

She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall above the cupboards. Two hours until midnight⁠—she needed to make her way to the great hall soon.

He followed her gaze. “Ah, yes. They are probably expecting you at the midnight feast.”

“Correct,” Duja said. She straightened, smoothing out the creases in her skirt. “I suppose Hari Aki has already informed you about the guests we will be receiving tonight.”

“I’m well aware, Your Majesty, and rest assured that no one will know I’m here. And it was, um, Dayang Laya who warned me,” he added as he braced his weight against the side of the table.

“Laya? Really?” Duja raised an eyebrow at him, incredulous.