A bittersweet warmth burst in Imeria’s chest. He leaned into her palm as she brushed a thumb over his cheek. Do you see now, my son? she thought, casting her gaze back to the skyline of Mariit. All of this belongs to you.

As Imeria drew Luntok into an embrace, Vikal burst onto the terrace. He bowed before Imeria, breathless. “Datu Kulaw.”

“What is it?” she asked, perplexed. Rarely did she see Vikal so flustered.

“We thought we’d find her hiding in a cupboard or in the gardens somewhere,” Vikal said, “but we’ve combed through every inch of the grounds. She’s gone.”

“Who’s gone? What are you talking about?” Imeria demanded.

Vikal met her gaze with tired eyes. “Dayang Eti. It seems she’s fled the palace.”

“The little one? She can barely wield,” Gulod scoffed. “If Laya were to escape, now that would be a greater concern.”

“Eti is a Gatdula all the same. She can’t get away,” Vikal said, lowering his head. “I’m sorry, my lady. I don’t know how we allowed this to happen.”

Imeria pursed her lips. It was dangerous to let one of the Gatdulas escape, but Gulod was right. Eti was a child, and she didn’t possess half the power of her mother or sister. Alone, she was no threat to them, but she was a loose end; one of their enemies need only find her and tug, and their fragile hold on the city would unravel.

“Rally the Royal Maynaran Guard, the ones we’re sure we can trust. We must secure the perimeter. No one will be allowed to leave the palace.” Imeria glanced back down at the labyrinth of streets below. Mariit was enormous, with plenty of nooks and shadows for a child like Eti to hide in. But, like her sisters, Eti had grown up sheltered in the palace; she would flounder without its protection.

“There was one more thing, my lady,” Vikal said in a grave voice.

Imeria’s stomach dropped. “What is it?”

“One of my men found this lying in the courtyard.” Vikal reached into the pocket of his trousers and retrieved what looked like a block of pure glass no bigger than an inch square. The pale morning sun glinted off its smooth surface. He dropped it into her hand.

Gulod leaned over Imeria’s shoulder. “Precioso,” he said with a gasp. “Imeria, you were right about that.”

Imeria’s fingers curled around the item. Her heart raced in excitement. “That means the alchemist was here after all,” she said, remembering Pangil’s letter. “Please tell me you found him.”

Vikal shook his head. “I’m afraid not, my lady. We swept the eastern wing several times. Someone had been living there recently, but there was no sign of the man. No trace of any more precioso either.”