Luntok must have slipped out before dawn, and he hadn’t wanted to disturb her. She ought to have been pleased with his tactfulness. Instead, she felt abandoned, as if a vital part of herself had been ripped away.

She wondered what was keeping him. The midnight feast was the most important ceremony that week. None of the datus, not even Luntok’s dreadful mother, would dare miss it. Not unless⁠—

“Could you pass me that yam cake over there?” Eti whispered, jolting Laya from her thoughts.

Laya turned to her little sister, who was sitting on her right. Sugar flakes and coconut sauce coated her fingers. A precarious pile of desserts teetered atop the napkin in her lap.

“What in Mulayri’s name are you doing?” Laya asked.

“Ariel. He must want to try some of this,” Eti said. When Laya didn’t budge, she reached across her and snatched a purple yam cake from one of the platters at the center of the table.

“You’re going to take dessert to him? Right now?” she said, incredulous.

Eti nodded. She tossed the yam cake in with the rest of her desserts. Carefully, she folded the napkin around the pile, tucking in the corners so none of the desserts would fall out.

Laya glanced at the back of the hall. Her mother was standing by the throne with her father and Maiza. They were whispering among themselves, likely discussing how to deal with Imeria’s absence, while the rest of the datus started to leave the table and make their way to the throne. In a few minutes, the ceremony was supposed to begin. Laya doubted it would start on time, as Imeria had yet to arrive.

“Fine,” Laya told Eti, nudging her toward the door. “But you have to hurry.”

“I will,” Eti promised. She grabbed the bundle of desserts and scampered out of the great hall. With her light tread and small stature, hardly anyone noticed her leave. The way Eti moved, she would make a formidable assassin, Laya mused, as she watched her disappear into the long shadows striping the room.

Long dinners made Eti restless, yes, but the true reason Laya let her go was because she thought Ariel was in desperate need of company. It pained her to think of all the hours the Orfelian had spent shut away in the sad, dusty eastern wing. She could no longer deny her growing fondness for him.

That afternoon, before getting ready for the midnight feast, Laya had sought him out. The pattern was becoming too comfortable, slipping into the eastern wing, her entire body hollowed out with loneliness. Initially, she went to Ariel to distract herself from Luntok’s abandonment. She should have known the Orfelian would surprise her.